Midnight: A Foxvalley Thriller (First Draft)✔

Chapter VIII: Truth hidden from sight

Foxvalley, Colorado

May 28, 7:12 A.M.

The rising sun casted rays of light into the gap of the small town of Foxvalley. Birds chirped happy morning songs, and the scissor sounds of crickets began to die away as the night drifted into its own nocturnal slumber. A light fog blanketed the mountains on both sides the valley. Budsworth drove up in front of the clinic. The door of the black Ford Taurus swung open. He stood up out of his car, slamming the door closed. The sun rays gleamed in his eyes. Searing pain shot through them at the sight of the white morning

The Foxvalley Medical clinic stood behind him. Henderson wanted him to come by to check on all the strange things happening to him. The puking of the blood, the nasty slash on his arm, and the tattoo. One of the front glass doors opened as Budsworth stepped in. It slid closed behind him and latched shut. Light from outside peeked into the waiting room with a dull white haze through the window blinds. A clock hanging on the wall above the information desk created the only sound, its soothing ticking continued through the silent ambience of the room.

Budsworth rolled up his black suit overcoat sleeves. Scabbing covered the cut he awoke with earlier that morning. The sound of footsteps approached from the hallway behind the door into the waiting him. Budsworth quickly removed the scabbing from sight, hiding it back under his sleeve. The door to the waiting room slid opened and Doctor Reynard stepped into the waiting room with him, her widened eyes gazing at him. They looked almost astonished. "Agent Budsworth, what are you doing here?" She asked. The sparkle lighting her eyes gave away that she enjoyed his company, and the grin stretching across her lips.

"The sheriff wanted me to step by here so you can take a look at something." Budsworth answered. Reynard gave him a strange look, one of her red eyebrows perked. She stepped up to the information desk, and placed a clipboard down beside the flat screen computer aboard the desk. She turned back to him, leaning her back on the edge of the clinic information desk.

"What is it?" She asked. Budsworth sighed, and rolled up his right arm suit sleeve. It revealed the scabbed slit in his arm. Light pink stained the skin surrounding the scabbing, painted by dried blood. Reynard's eyes widened and she took a few steps toward him. He held out his arm in front of her so she could have a closer look. "What happened?" She asked.

"I don't know. I woke up with it this morning," He explained. The image of the dead man downstairs flashed across his mind. The body laid out across the red painted floor. The skin torn and ripped to shreds; his lungs and intestines spilling into the outer world. Even Budsworth found it one the most sickening sights he'd ever seen, and he'd been an FBI agent for almost nine years. He'd never seen what he saw that morning behind the B&B desk. The strangest thing of the man's death is how it seemed connected to the nightmare he dreamt of last night. The hotel clerk looked as if he'd been mauled. He remember the image of the creature from his dream vividly. The hot pick eyes. The sharp, slashing teeth. Its terrifying long claws, shredding into his body. The blood He remembered how painful it felt, no dream is supposed to feel painful.

In his dream he remembered that, out of all his foolish attempts to stop the ending of his demise, the only one that succeeded was when he lunged out at it with his knife. The next morning a bloodied knife laid on the floor beside José's mangled body. A knife that could've, just perfectly, slit through his arm. It hit him, almost like a semi truck speeding 80 miles per hour, what if I did it? Budsworth looked back at the doctor who continued to examine the wound in his arm. He had to find a way to extract blood from himself without her noticing. He could extract a sample of his own blood, and hand her the blood from him and the knife, but she might be suspicious if both samples of the blood came from him.