The Chronicles of Beast and Man (2 page)

For the most part, everyone in Medusa liked and respected Rod as a person as well as a police officer, but there were a few people who didn't care for him. It might be because of his young age of thirty five, or his sometimes cocky attitude, or just out of pure jealousy. Some people even had a little nickname for him. These people only called him this behind his back of course; the nick name was “the boy king.”

On his way to work Rod could not help but think about the sadness he saw in Dusty's face. Rod had never had a dog, so he supposed that he couldn't relate to the situation. Perhaps there was a unique bond between a dog and his master that Rod just could not grasp. On the other hand, Rod had never had to deal with a lot of loss in his life. When he was ten his grandfather had died, and he was devastated by that, but no one else in his life had left him. Despite this, Rod felt that he had an understanding of life and death. In his mind, there was little that anyone could do in the matter. All people have to deal with their own fate when it is their turn, whether they realize that or not.

Most days Rod did not have to think about such matters. He was happy with the way people viewed him. Often he was too busy to worry about such things. Medusa may only be a town with a little more than ten thousand people in it, but the day
-
to
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day responsibilities of acting Sheriff never seemed to end.

Rod pulled up in front of the police station and made his way inside. The mornings in Medusa were quiet. The only other person there at that time of day was Clara Awdry. She was the police department's part-time dispatcher who worked from five to ten o'clock in the morning.

“How has your morning been?” Rod asked Clara.

“Pretty slow.” Clara said, as she glanced away from the trashy romance novel she was reading at the time.

Clara had worked for the Medusa Police Department for fifteen years. She also worked part-time at the Medusa public library, week days from noon to five in the afternoon. Both jobs she started shortly after her husband Glenn passed away. Rod had only met her late husband a couple of times, but thought he had seemed like a kind and honest person, which was a good match for Clara. Despite her choice in reading material, Rod had no reservations about Clara as a person, or as an employee for the city.

At ten o'clock, Arnold Omaha would arrive and take over the dispatch responsibilities. Arnold had been a police officer in Medusa for more than thirty years, but retired to become the department's primary dispatcher.

Rod sat down at his desk and began reading through the little bit of paper work compiled from the night before. Of course, Rod saw nothing out of the ordinary for a Tuesday night. There was a speeder doing forty-five in a thirty mile an hour zone. The speeder had been pulled over on the highway, and Rod didn't recognize the name, so he assumed it must have been someone passing through. Deputy Stevens
'
had also documented an incident with a strange drunken wanderer. At least he seemed to be intoxicated based the conversation Deputy Stevens had with him. Even though it was a Tuesday night, this wasn't all that unusual. Some people like to consume alcohol no matter what day of the week it is. Rod supposed that everyone should just be happy that the gentleman chose to walk instead of drive.

After rifling through the paper work, Rod got up from his desk and filled himself a large cup of coffee. Once his cup was full, he moved over to the huge window, facing Main Street. Here he stood proud, watching the small town world pass him by. He took a couple sips of his coffee, and continued to present himself to anyone who passed. It was kind of his way of showing the early birds in town that he was there and in charge.

Rod then noticed someone staring at him with intense eyes. It was Daniel Montvale, a local punk who couldn't seem to keep himself out of trouble. Daniel was leaning against the hardware store gazing over at Rod through the window. The strong look on Daniel's face was strange and made the hair on Rod's arms stand straight up. Rod did not let Daniel know that he had caught him off guard. He only looked right back at Daniel as if to challenge him. Daniel squinted his eyes then ran his fingers through his long brown hair. Then he brought a cigarette up to his lips and took a drag. Daniel was only seventeen, which of course was not legal age to be smoking, but Rod did not feel the need to hassle him for the smoking offense at the moment. It wasn’t like Rod hadn't said things to Daniel in the past. He had in fact taken a cigarette out of Daniel's mouth and thrown it down on the ground. This took place at a party which the Medusa police broke up just on the outskirts of town. Rod also did not take the opportunity to harass Daniel because he knew there would be another opportunity later. Daniel was far too active of a young criminal to not get caught doing something.

The strange look that Daniel was giving Rod was a little more than unsettling, but Rod refused to give Daniel the satisfaction of knowing that he was bothering him. Instead of acting on the strange feelings that crept up inside of him, he only nodded back at Daniel. Rod had no fear of Daniel Montvale; this strange activity was just annoying, like a fly that won’t stop buzzing above your head. Rod was also not concerned because he knew that either he or one of his deputies would eventually arrest Daniel Montvale.

Daniel kicked his leg up and strutted away in a display of attitude. Rod, for a brief moment, wondered why in the world Daniel had been stalking the police station. He suspected that maybe the young man was debating retaliation for past arrests. If this thought were true, it would only be bad news for Daniel. Any crime that Daniel might commit against the police station or an officer would have a large price tag to go along with it.

Once the unsettling feeling that came from Daniel's unusual interest in the police station went away, Rod sat back down at his desk and went through a little more paper work. He had very little to go through. There had been a city council meeting last Thursday and Rod still hadn't read all of the transcripts from it. Though, he was only interested in the topics related to the police department.

Rod felt boredom beginning to set in and had the need to go on patrol. Going on patrol to Rod meant driving down Main Street, going around to the outskirts of town, than driving
back into town.

He would drive back into town from the east side, passing the Bartell meat processing plant. Bartell was the largest employer in Medusa, and for some, a source of pride for the town with its outstanding reputation.

On any other day, Rod would park where the highway and Main Street intersect to try and catch anyone who might attempt to speed through town. Today on the other hand, he wouldn't be doing that, because of his meeting with his friend Dusty Welker at noon. He would have to go to lunch a little early and skip out on trying to catch speeders. Rod's patrol of the town probably wasn't required, but he did it anyway.

Rod went to the Main Street Cafe, and had his usual cheeseburger with extra pickles, and a side of waffle fries. The Main Street Café is a down home restaurant filled with old fashioned décor (a butter churn, old cash register, decorative metal signs, etc.) While Rod ate, he glanced around the restaurant for an old flame from high school that worked there. When he couldn't spot her Rod assumed that she wasn't working and continued eating his lunch.

Once he was finished he laid down the money to pay for his meal including a tip for the waitress, and made his way out the door.

*

I
t was exactly twelve o’clock when Rod pulled up to the Welker's family farm. Rod parked and turned off the engine. He assumed that it would be a few minutes before Dusty got home for his lunch break. Rod turned on the radio and began searching through the local radio stations until he found Led Zepplin playing on the classic rock station. After enjoying the music for a couple of minutes, he began searching through his cell phone. He found a picture of Marcy Russell, who happened to be the same woman he was looking for at the Main Street Café earlier.
Six years ago Marcy married a well-to-do contractor by the name of Matthew Russell. Matthew was apparently good at what he did, but he was also known for being a dirty business man. Marcy and Matthew had two kids and were both respected in the community. Rod once asked Marcy why she continued to work at the Main Street Café, and she told him that she needed something to keep herself busy. Rod always thought that if he were her, he would be able to find something more interesting to do then work at the Café. But if that was what she wanted to do, that was her decision. The picture Rod was looking at was of Marcy making a silly face at the cell phone camera. Rod then moved on to the next picture, which was of Marcy in nothing but a bra, not revealing anything below the waste. Rod studied the picture taking in the beauty of her soft and lovely skin.

Dusty pulled up the driveway in his Chevy pickup truck. Rod powered down his phone and tossed it into the passenger seat. Rod got out of the vehicle and greeted his friend who still appeared to be mourning. The two walked out behind the large barn on the property and began to dig a hole. Rod had not realized how out of shape he was until he saw how easy it was for his friend to dig. Rod took several breaks to catch his breath, unlike his friend who continued to furiously throw dirt.

When the hole was finished, the two men went inside the barn where the dog’s remains laid. Rod had not been sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t what he saw. The mess of blood, fur, and bone was so gory that Rod could not believe his eyes. Rod knew that his friend might want an explanation, but Rod knew he would not be able to give one. This did not look like it had been done by coyotes. Perhaps such a terrible act could have been committed by a pack of coyotes, but not by one coyote alone. That would be the only explanation he would even attempt to give. After examining the devoured remains, they moved the tarp which the remains laid upon to the hole they had just dug. They dumped the body into the hole and began to bury it. Rod continued to sympathize with his friend, but felt that it did very little.

-

After leaving the Welker farm, Rod drove back into town and went down Main Street, then drove past the park, and began to make his way home. The entire time he was still thinking about what had happened to the Welker family dog. Everything about it was bizarre, so much so that it made Rod totally uncomfortable. It wasn’t long before Rod was back in his drive way, he exited his vehicle and quickly went inside. He did not waste any time heading to the bathroom and discarding
his sweaty dirty uniform, he then got into the shower. As Rod washed himself, someone outside approached the house. They gazed in through the living room window and saw no one. They crept around the house to the back door, and let themselves in. The intruder moved through the house searching for the unsuspecting Sheriff. Finally the intruder came to the bathroom where Rod was showering. Rod turned and was surprised to see Marcy Russell sliding out of her Main Street Café uniform. He immediately had an erection which Marcy of course noticed. After disrobing, she stepped into the shower with him.

“Hi, I didn’t see you working when I stopped for lunch earlier.” Rod said with a smile.

“I was in the back helping the cooks out a little bit.”

“A pretty thing like you doesn’t need to be hidden in the kitchen.” Rod said as he began to nibble on her neck. He then took a break from her neck and continued talking. “By the way, I thought we agreed not to meet at each other’s homes?

“I got off work early, and I didn’t think you’d mind.”

Rod of course agreed, but did not express it in words. He began to caress her soaking wet body inch by inch. For a moment, Rod thought that he heard Marcy purr. He whipped her around and began to thrust himself into her. Marcy was more than delighted at the excitement that she gave her old high school flame. This steamy shower session eventually moved to the bedroom, and when it was over, Marcy snuck back out of the house without being seen.

A
radiant full moon rose up in the night sky the same way it had twenty nine days earlier. The beast began to prowl the countryside, the same way it had during the last full moon. It was cunning and wise far beyond nature’s habitat. The hunger that dwelled inside the creature grew with each powerful step that it took. There was no question that it knew what it wanted, and exactly where to find it. The beast had a natural instinct that only something mythical and unholy could possess.

The beast began its hunt within the darkness of the woods lying east of Medusa Township. It moved swiftly, attempting to track any scent that might lead to unsuspecting pray. It would seem that the woodland creatures that inhabited these woods had become accustomed to its tactics. On this night the beast would have a great deal of trouble tracking down its
prey.
This did not discourage the creature one bit though. It knew that eventually it would find something unsuspecting. This was part of its usual hunting grounds, and the beast knew that other animals understood that as well. To it, half of the pleasure was the hunt itself, and it had never accepted defeat. Within its primal thoughts there was no such thing as defeat. Once the full moon rose, the hair and the teeth began to grow, and the only thing it understood was: Kill, Eat, and Repeat…