Midnight: A Foxvalley Thriller (First Draft)✔

Epilogue

May 29, 1:47 A.M.

Foxvalley, Colorado

Sheriff Henderson tripped over his own feet when he reached the doorway of the sheriff's station front door. He bled form the back of the head. His head beating, pain rushing through his forehead. The surroundings around him blurred. He reached for the door handle into his office. Standing behind the door stood a short chubby man in a blue plaid shirt. "Mr. Becker, what're you doing here?" Henderson asked, leaning himself against the wall.

"I heard a loud sound outside my house. It hurt my ears. I called but no one answered," Alfred Becker answered, "Sheriff, are you okay? You're bleeding," Budsworth touched the warm blood leaking down his forehead. Something grave wrong happened. He just walked, no, more like stumbled four miles from Holt's house to the Sheriff's station. He awoke about two hours ago, searching for Queens, but couldn't find him anywhere. Did his assaulter kidnap Queens after knocking him out? Could've been the same person who burned the library to the ground, yet in the mist of all this mystery he manage to nod to Alfred's question.

Henderson made it to his desk without falling. He opened a compartment and pulled out a bottle of Ibuprofen. Alfred watched him pop a couple into his mouth before snapping the cap closed and placing the bottle back into the compartment. He slammed it shut and gazed back up at Alfred. The room continued to swirl around him. "Sheriff, are you sure you're okay?" Alfred asked again.

Henderson nodded and swallowed. He stood, knees wobbling underneath him. A couple headlight shined in through the window as Henderson's patrol car pulled up into the parking lot outside the station. A women, Haylee, stumbled out of the front seat car door. She leaned, one hand along the hood of the car. Her eyes wide, full of panic. She bursted through the front door. Her heavy breathing alerting both of them. "Mrs. Leeway, where you've been? Budsworth went looking for you. We're is he?" He asked, "and what did you mean, my deputy's dead?"

"They're... they're all dead..." she said, "all of them..." Henderson and Alfred's worried gazes met. Henderson stumbled to his rifle shelf. He grabbed a rifle, and turned to look at Haylee. "Where did you last see Budsworth and Ben?"

"Out on state road 9 between Canon City and Foxvalley,"

"My house isn't far from there," Alfred said, "what if they took refuge there. Shit, I think I may've locked the door."

"Don't worry. Alfred, I'm winded, so i want you to drive me up there. If we don't find anyone there we'll check out your house," Henderson explained, "Mr. Leeway, I want you to head to the clinic. Hopefully someone there can help you." She nodded, tossing his car keys towards him. She escaped through the front door as he caught it. On his way out the building he handed the keys to Alfred.

The sheriff's patrol car rolled over the asphalt of the road. The houses surrounding the town vanished, replaced by pine and oak trees. Headlights illuminated the road ahead of them. Rain continued to fall. Water scattered across the windshield. Wipers flashed by, shooting the droplets form the windshield, cascading onto the wet road. Alfred, behind the wheel, slowed to a crawl. Something laid across the road in front of them. The rain and fog clouding the area made it difficult to see what the object could be.

Henderson's headache remained, beating through his brain. The dizziness he felt before recovered. He grabbed the flashlight from the glovebox in front of him. He grabbed his rifle and pulled on the door handle. The passenger side door popped open on his demand. He pressed a button along the top. A blinding blue blasted out the mouth of the flashlight, shining onto the object lying on the road feet ahead of them.

He stepped closer the abomination. Pink fluid rolled over the road. His flashlight shone its beam on a death deer lying on the road. A huge slit slicing from the chest to the neck. Blood seeped out onto the road, along with bulges of pink muscle. A buck alter lied, bloodied, on the asphalt inches away, disconnected from the rest of the body. It looked as if something snapped it. Red streaks of blood painted it, indicating what ever attacked it probably bleed, maybe left a trail. Henderson never saw anything that could slice through the muscle of a deer chest like that.