(22nd of May, 1999)
It was a little over 9PM. Blood soaked the concrete of a suburban garage. Police tape drawn all around and nearly every officer in Small Pines had responded to the call. The victim of this violent crime was a teenage son. His father was missing. Two boys from a couple blocks over were missing. Ricky and Daniel. Unrest and tensions were high in Small Pines. This little town in Maine that hadn’t seen real crime in decades was now in the throws of a slowly unfolding hellish nightmare.
Officer Kimberly McKnight stood staring at the stars. Actually beyond that. An aurora borealis, a beautiful phenomenon. A stark contrast to the grizzly events behind her. A local detective (Small Pines’ only detective) was in the middle of examining that crime scene as the officers kept the perimeter. One of these officers being Frank Houseworth. Her partner. Walking up beside her offering up a cigarette and a light. Kimberly who didn’t really smoke… took him up on it.
“What a weird night… Weird now for the Northern lights to show up…”
“They’re just particles Kim…”
Kimberly gazed at Frank as the two sucked down their cigarettes. “You called me Kim.” Something Frank didn’t often do. Opting to keep things professional most of the time.
“Yeah well- it’s a weird night.”
The two continued to smoke while admiring the beauty of the aurora borealis. The Northern lights. They were both a little shaken up considering recent events. And it wasn’t just them. The whole town of Small Pines were on edge. They both thought it was “kind of nice” to stand back and watch something so beautiful for a moment.
“They’re bringing in an outside specialist.”
“A specialist?”
“Yeah. Some detective from Waterville, Maine.”
“Crime isn’t rampant there. What could he offer?” Kimberly asked.
“They have damn near ten times the population. I’m sure whoever they send will be more prepared for this then what we have.” Kimberly looked defeated. “Besides I’m not so mad about it. Let them take care of it so things can get back to normal.” Frank said.
This is wrong… I’ll take the help, but we need to learn to stand on our own. I- I don’t understand. We’re the police. Why aren’t we doing more? Kimberly pondered.
“So what is the plan now?” Asked Frank.
“For me? First of all I’ll be carrying my gun off duty- at least for the time being.”
*Frank Sighing* “Yeah, that’s not a bad idea.”
“You?”
“Anna’s probably worried. Bobby and Lily don’t know what’s going on but- I- I should really be there with them right now.” Frank told her. “Need any ammo for that thing?”
Kimberly put her hand on her holster. The Beretta M9, a nine millimeter semi-automatic handgun. Standard issue for all SPD police officers. She had one magazine. She wondered how much ammunition she could need. But just hearing Frank ask that made her superstitious nature take over.
“I’ve got one magazine.” Denying the need for more. But not outright objecting his offer.
“I’ll bring a box of 9mm ammunition by tomorrow night.” Frank assured her.
“Thank you.”
10:17 PM
Pinewood Park… a beautiful spot with freshly cut grass and planted flowers. The epitome of peace placed square in the center of town. It had well kept brick paths making easy to traverse from all sides. It was really quite nice. It was popular among young teens over the weekend, and really popular with the town drunkard. The latter of which was stumbling his drunk ass through there tonight.
Strolling through this park at the center of town was Don Dougherty. The local town drunk. He was strolling and stumbling through the park. Far more than half in the bag by that point. His sung while staring at the Northern lights. His vision blurred and unreliable.
“Sweeet Caroline- BUH- BUH- BUH!”
He was singing and swaying back & forth. Just all around having fun despite being in the seemingly dangerous scenario of walking through the park alone. But that was never an issue in Small Pines. At least- not typically.
“Hands! Touchin’ hands. Reachin- Reachin’ out! Touch… huh?”
His singing ceased.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
“W- what is…” *Burp* “What’s that?” Don said pointing down the path despite nobody around to hear him or see what he was referencing.
A man walked through the park. A man? Was it a man or something else? Whatever it was it was shaking as it walked. Violently and sporadically. Its head was shaking in so many directions. Its arms were doing the same. Chest vibrating in blur. It was all a blur! A walking blur! Vaguely man, but Don couldn’t say. No one could…
“Woah man… He’s shaking!”
The vibrations of its body were so fast and violent that you could hear it. You could hear the air around it whirring… It was like bubbling TV static. It got closer- and closer. Then even closer to Don. Hear dropped his bottle of whiskey as the liquid spilled out onto the ground. He stumbled backwards in sober mind, but he was still drunk. He tripped and fell onto his ass and suddenly he was paralyzed.
“Ahhhhhh!” Don covered his ears and closed his eyes. “Go away!”
The sounds intensified as this blur of a- of perhaps a person, maybe not walked through and got closer to Don. Don sweating and shaking in fear as he sat, ass in the grass holding his eyes. Helpless as the sound grew louder by proximity. Please! Please! Please! He thought. But then he opened his eyes. The sounds dimmed a little. Then a little more. And he watched as the “shaking man” kept walking. Weaving in and around the trees. Until it was gone.
Don looked down at his bottle. “Jesus Christ save my soul. Let me cast the bottle aside!” But then Don really thought about it. “That was real right?” As he continued talking to himself.
(23rd of May, 1999)
A beautiful building downtown. Greek pillars lining the front, chiseled in Marble. City Hall. Normally you’d drive past this building on the way to work, but not today. Today there were families in protest. Security standing outside to prevent these people from coming in.
“WE WON’T GO! UNTIL WE KNOW!” Protestors chanted in unison.
“WE WON’T GO! PROTECT OUR HOME!” They continued. And this had been going on for hours. Reporters from towns over were here to ask the mayor, Keith Sikes one simple question. And that was ‘Why? Why didn’t he come out about two boys missing sooner? Why keep them in the dark, and now a teenage boy is dead. A father is missing. Two sons are missing. Why?’
The reporters asked these questions to the camera while people watched at home. People like Dani Gomez and her husband Emanuel. Their kids not understanding what’s going on. Playing with their toys in the background.
“You going to talk to them Keith?” Police Chief Bill Strauss asked him.
Mr. Mayor. Keith Sikes sat at his desk with his face buried in his palms.
“Mr. Mayor?”
“Yeah… I- yeah.”
“So you’re going to go out there and talk to them?”
“Ugh. I don’t know. Can you?”
The chief stood in the Mayor’s office trying to convince him to speak to his people. He’d originally held back on mentioning the disappearances of Ricky and Daniel the previous day out of fear it may cause civil unrest. Thought it would blow over but now…
“WE WON’T GO! UNTIL WE KNOW!” Protestors chanted in unison.
“WE WON’T GO! PROTECT OUR HOME!”
The Mayor could hear this from outside his shiny office. Clean and pristine, nothing like this messy situation he’d found himself in. He sat there indecisive when finally his secretary had some good news for him.
“Mr. Mayor. Detective Drew from Waterville is here.”
Mayor Sikes jumped from his chair. “Yes. Yes! Bring him in Molly!”
Walking around from behind his secretary was Detective Dwayne Drew. A tall man, muscular but bearing a few pounds of fat too. He was rough and tough. A former United States Marine. He’d fought and Vietnam and has been in the police force for damn near 30 years. Having solved almost half a dozen murder cases in his time as a detective.
“I hear you’ve got a murder on your hands Mr. Mayor?”
“Oh boy do I…” The Mayor said as he walked up and shook the detective’s hands. Using both of his hands to shake one of Drew’s monstrously sized hands. “A little more.”
“Maybe worse to come from the sounds of it.” Drew said as the Mayor’s heart sunk. “But don’t worry. I’ll get to the bottom of this. What do we know so far?”
“Oh- uh… of course. Bill.” The Mayor said, gesturing to the police chief.
The Police Chief went on to explain to Detective Drew of the murder, and the missing boys and father. Informed him where and how close the incidents were to each other. All the while Drew paced around the office. Coming to a counter where a picturesque bottle sat, filled with finely aged bourbon. He sniffed it and smiled. Pouring it forth from its clear bottle and sipping as the Chief continued.
“I see…” Drew said as he sipped. “Any abandoned buildings within a fifty mile radius around the crime scene?” He asked.
“A few. Maybe a house and the old church.” The chief said. “I’ll get you a map and mark the locations.” He told Drew.
“Good idea!” Said the Mayor.
“Yes, that’ll be helpful. Well I better get to work.”
“I’ll go tell the press!” The Mayor said as he scurried out of the room.
Drew sighed. “He seems really beat up doesn’t he?”
“Yeah… something like that.” Bill replied.
Drew headed to the door. “Well I’ll go check the crime scene out first I suppose. I’m going to need a guide though. An officer who knows the area. Someone spunky I could work well with.”
“Sounds good. And I think I have just the gal.” Bill said plain faced.
“Gal?” Drew said skeptically.
7:45 PM
The old church. It was a run down beaten mess. Wooden columns were splintering and collapsing. Roots and vines wrapping up around it like tentacles squeezing a sailor’s dinghy. It was dark on the inside. Musty and muggy. The fabric on the pews was stained and ripped. Completely abandoned on the south side of town in favor a shiny new church that had been built on the northern side. Light spilling in from the open doors. At least they were until a man stood at the entrance.
He walked in and saw the chipping paint and cobwebs filling the room. Stepping onto the carpet and walking down the aisle with these heavy combat boots. The man adorned a gray trench coat, scarf, and a hunter’s cap. His bright, blues eyes peering around from the sea of gray that was his outfit. And suddenly he stopped walking and fell to his knee.
“God damnit! Not again…”
He was suddenly his with a massive headache. His veins popping and his mind thrashing. His fingers wrapped around his head as if he had suddenly been swept with a massive brain freeze. One thought running through his head as this was happening. It’s close…
He kept walking until he made it to the podium. Staring there he saw the shattered candy glass of a decorative window showing the sacrifice of Christ. The man drew a cross on his chest with his hands and prayed. Then, as his head was down he caught a glimpse of a small shoe. Laying on the ground. He walked toward to reveal… the boys.
“…”
They lay side by side. Motionless on the ground. They were gone… The man’s eyes narrowing in sorrow. And as he knelt down to examine them he noticed. Their eyes… they were missing.