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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
A renowned inspector begins an investigation after a gruesome attack. But, this is no regualar attacking. The victim is viciously gouged and drained of all his blood. The inspector must now find the culprit before there are anymore of these attacks.

Submitted: July 09, 2012

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Submitted: July 09, 2012



It was a darker summer night than usual in the small rural town of Weinsdale. Normally, being such a tiny community, the locals would be out and about socializing and bartering amongst themselves, but tonight was different. Not one of the townspeople were roaming the streets, except one.

A young man, only about eight teen was walking along a narrow alleyway. Although, it was no ordinary walk. He was limping. From afar, it seemed as if he was some drunk making his way home from a party, but it was far from. His leg had multiple gouges in it, as if he was attacked by starving wolves that inhabited the surrounding forests. He continued his painful journey through the pitch black alley. Each excruciating step he took slowly brought him to the exit, then he could finally acquire aid from one of the houses across the street.

Relief overcame the pain as he stepped into the dimming light of the street lamp. He was finally free from the harsh pain, or so he thought. Just as he stepped over the curb a figure appeared in the shadows surrounding the small proximity of light from the lamp. Overcome from hope, the man didn't  notice the silhouette to his right. He hurried his pace towards the nearest house, but he then collapsed from a severe sting from his knee. The pain didn't give up, it continued biting at his leg as he rolled in agony. The figure came closer, coming right up to the man. As he endured rolling around in search in of ease from the pain he saw the figure towering above.

" Oh, thank you so much. Please help me." he pleaded.

The figure just stood there.

" What are you doing? Help me please." he begged once more. He then looked right at the figures face and all light that remained was diminished. It was his earlier attacker. It reached down and clutched the man's neck. He was finished.


Inspector Garrott drove down Sailsley street and pulled over beside a group of officers. As he stepped out of his cruiser, he was met by the rounder one in the group.

" Sir, glad you could make it. It's such an honour to work with you on this one." he said through his thick, grey moustache.

" Yeah." Garrott grunted,barely taking notice to the round man." Now, will you excuse me?"

"Oh, yes sir. No problem sir." the round man said as he shuffled out of Garrott's way.

Garrott approached the group of the officers, and at first sight of the renowned inspector they immediately stepped aside. Appearing from behind the officers was the remains of a body. The blood was entirely drained from the body, causing the blackened skin to shrivel. Garrott almost shrieked at the sight of it, which was rare from an officer of his experience. He then noticed multiple slits in the skin. He had seen nothing like it before.

" Sorry fellas. But I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I work alone." he said, still examining to body.

" Yes sir. Come on boys." the round man responded. He and the other officer's then entered their cruisers and departed.

Garrott was astonished. He had no idea what could have done this. He continued to examine the crime scene, then he noticed something strange. Footprints, bare bloody ones leading away from the body. He began to follow the footprints. They didn't go on for very long, leading straight into an abandoned shop. There was bloody hand prints covering the surface of the door. Wanting to continue his persue of the culprit, he slowly opened the creaking door. As he cautiously entered he was tackled and dragged into the shop. He reached for his gun, but he was stopped by a sudden pain. He couldn't move. He turned his head with his last strength. A gouged-face elderly woman was there. He began to bleed out rapidly, and with his last breath he heard her speak.

"Feed, Bethenny, feed."

© Copyright 2019 Stuart Bourke. All rights reserved.

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