As the afternoon wore on, a group of heavily armed thugs arrived at the site of the bloody overnight massacre. Riquelme didn't beat around the bush and sent his most capable men to investigate. "I want you to search every nook and cranny and find any clue as to what the hell happened here last night," he ordered in his booming voice as the men got out of the trucks.
The ruffians nodded silently and began to spread out, weapons at the ready as they inspected the area. A couple of them checked an alleyway where the shredded and mutilated bodies lay. They stifled retches at the sight of the remains and proceeded to look for any evidence.
One of them, the leader of that group, frowned as he noticed a small notebook in the pocket of one of the unfortunate victims. He picked it up with a look of disgust and began flipping through it. His eyes widened in surprise as he read the first few pages.
"Hey, Sancho, I think I found something," he called to one of his companions. The man in question approached, grimacing at the stench of blood.
"What is it, Zapata?"
"Look at this," Zapata showed him the notebook. "These are the notes that Negro and Güero took when they went to 'visit' the old lady at her store the other day."
Sancho frowned and took the notes to read them. They detailed the address, appearance and routine of Juana, as well as a description of her new employee.
"A tall, burly guy, with red hair and white eyes. Probably blind, nothing dangerous," Sancho read aloud.
Both men fell into thoughtful silences, pondering this information. Zapata took back the notebook and continued flipping until he came across a couple of final pages that made him burst into a dry laugh.
"Look at this, you idiots," he showed the pages to the others. "Looks like Negro and Güero managed to describe how that bastard attacked them too."
On the pages, written in a frantic, disorderly manner, it could clearly be read:
"Strong like a monster... attacked us brutally... broke my arm like nothing… we fled to the hideout... DANGEROUS."
After reading that last part, the men fell into a tense silence, their gazes turning to each other with growing bewilderment and fear. Everything seemed to indicate that this supposed "employee" had been the cause of the massacre according to what Beto had told them about a "lethal supernatural being." Zapata was the first to speak, resolute.
"Well, it doesn't matter if it's a monster or whatever. If that guy was responsible for massacring the guys, we have to find him and take him down before the boss does something worse to us."
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"But the notebook says he's dangerous and..." Sancho began to object.
"I don't give a shit!" Zapata cut him off brusquely. "Boss Riquelme wants answers about what happened last night and wants to put an end to this once and for all. So let's get moving."
With that, he began checking the notes again for any clues. Finally, he found the first pages with the address of the crazy old woman, capable of giving shelter to such a beast. One note said: "Employee living in attached house… ¿Did the old witch make a pact?"
Zapata smiled darkly as he read it.
"We already have a place to start looking, guys. Let's go."
♢♢♢♢
Meanwhile, Arnaud was resting as comfortably as he could in a small space under the wooden floor in the back of the warehouse. It was a tiny storage room where Juana used to keep things that were never sold and broken junk. She was a hoarder.
The small space offered him better protection from the sun than the main warehouse; it was the best he could find in the short time he had that morning. He sat huddled in a corner, legs drawn up and head bowed with a grim expression.
Suddenly, the faint sound of footsteps and muffled voices reached his ears from outside. He frowned deeper and sharpened his senses to the fullest, concentrating on catching any unusual scent or sound. He didn't have to wait long to begin distinguishing the effluvia of sweat and gunsmoke. He tensed suddenly, every cell of his body on alert at those unmistakable smells.
"Search every damn corner!" a bestial voice bellowed outside. "That bastard could be around here somewhere, and bring me the old woman!"
Arnaud clenched his jaws, fangs protruding and a muffled growl vibrating in his chest. From the footsteps and voices, there must have been at least two dozen men prowling the area. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, concentrating to the fullest to catch every detail...
Outside, Zapata advanced, leading his thugs as they carried powerful weapons and other tools. After examining the massacre site, all evidence pointed to the old woman's supposed "employee" being the culprit behind such a slaughter.
"You two, to the warehouse! The rest follow me into the house!" he barked orders as they moved toward the main building.
A pair of men broke off and cautiously approached the adjacent warehouse, scrutinizing every nook and cranny for the slightest clue. One headed toward the back where there was an old basement. With a gesture, he signaled for his companion to come closer as well.
They stopped right above the small underground storage room where Arnaud lay hidden. The latter held his breath, trying to repress his violent heartbeats so as not to give himself away. The first man frowned and stomped hard on the wood, making it creak.
"Hey Paco, don't you think the old lady keeps something valuable down here?" he inquired loudly.
His companion shook his head dismissively as he lit a cigarette.
"It must be a rathole, dude. The old lady keeps all her valuables on the shelves and in the store."
"Yeah but that monster attacks at night, don't you think the old lady could be hiding it in a hole like this?"
There was a brief silence in which Arnaud could almost feel the man's keen senses exploring the surroundings. Then, without warning, the man gripped his massive assault rifle and aimed it at the floor.
"Well, let's make sure."