The Beast of 1977 (Book 1)

Completely deflated, Bruin dragged himself past the murder scene on his way back into the living room to find Fitzpatrick holding a tape recorder. He then watched as his partner pushed the rewind button and allowed the recording to play.

Everyone that was gathered in the living room stood and listened with disgusted faces as Cummins huffed and wheezed to a Chicago song playing in the background. It wasn't too difficult for everyone to figure out what the man was doing in the recording.

"Damn shit." Fitzpatrick growled as he placed the machine back down onto the glass table without stopping the recording.

"Hey, Jones," Bruin motioned to the floor, "there's a thing of Vaseline beside the couch there."

"Where's the fellow that he snatched yesterday?" One of the other officers asked.

"Maybe he's downstairs." Bruin miserably replied before starting for the bedrooms.

"I guess it makes sense in a way," Fitzpatrick mentioned while gawking about the sophisticated living room, "he's been using his own vehicles to snatch people."

"We've got a live one down here!" A voice gleefully shouted out from the basement.

Like little boys on summer vacation, both Bruin and Fitzpatrick raced through the living room, into the kitchen and down the basement stairs to see fifteen naked, dead bodies lying all over a bloodied floor, and one living, naked person curled up in a secure ball, holding her thin hands together as tight as she could while her blue eyes bulged out of her head in a horrific manner.

"Someone get Donaldson down here, now!" Bruin feverishly screamed as he got down to his knees and attempted to tenderly hold the woman in his arms.

"It's okay, honey. It's all over now." He gently reassured the girl while taking off his coat and wrapping it around her shockingly warm body.

Right around the corner at the top of the stairs was a plump, blonde white female officer. The woman came rushing down the steps only to stop midway at the sight of the sadistic death that took hold of her eyes.

"Shirley, come here, we need you to take her upstairs!" Bruin yelled.

But Donaldson appeared too afraid to make another move forward. She slowly began to back away until she stumbled against one of the steps behind her.

"Get your ass down here now, Donaldson!" Fitzpatrick furiously gestured with his left hand.

The petrified woman skittishly stepped down the stairs and approached the young lady on the floor. From there she coddled the woman in her arms like a child.

"Talk to her, Donaldson, she's a baby girl!" Bruin urgently ranted.

"Hold on...sweetheart, we're gonna get you out of here real soon." Donaldson stammered while caressing the woman's long, brunette hair.

With his hands shaking, Bruin stood back up and surveyed every corpse that was lying on the floor. Each body, including the young woman's, had deep puncture wounds to the stomach area.

Their pale, distraught faces told the story of their final moments of life. Handsome, young black men and pretty, young white women were all scattered from one end of the basement to the other. Even the overwhelming stench of the room couldn't tear the officers and detectives away from the bludgeoning sight of all the death that stared ever so lifelessly right back at them. Every moment passed by in surreal slow motion.

"There's Calvin over there." Fitzpatrick pointed straight ahead.

Bruin turned around and watched as the medics helped the young lady from off of the

and saying to an officer beside him,

he had overturned each corpse onto its stomach, he coldly stated out loud, "Forced insertion wounds to the rectal areas. Looks like our man raped his victims

"So where the hell is this fellow that Cummins

it came

retrieved the fur from out of Bruin's hand and sighed, "Linus, forensics fucked it all up last November when their supposed bear attacked those Jamaican guys. Everyone down at the lab was in such a hurry to get home for the holiday that they would have said an elephant did it. This fur resembles that of a wolf rather than a bear. You

that to Cummins?" Fitzpatrick stepped up beside

"Unless it was a pack of wolves, that's not too

only one set of paw prints tracked in the snow, Linus." Brice

only hope that this Mercer guy

he did so a naked man." Fitzpatrick said.

Right then, the bizarre roars of an angry animal shot out from upstairs. Every officer and detective that was in the basement pulled out

Once they made their way into the living room, to their stunned surprise, the sounds that they were hearing were coming

room and listened to the roars

"Is that a bear?" Fitzpatrick's

"I've never heard a bear sound like that

of wood came into earshot, which was

"That's not all." Another officer pointed to

see news vans and reporters all descend upon the residence like a swarm of

TV star here."

to speak with nosey reporters, or anyone else for that matter, but

cement feet, the detective stepped outside onto the icy porch

kidnapper?" A male reporter asked with a mini tape

"We received an anonymous tip. The tipster described a black male in his early twenties accepting a ride from a man that fit our description. Upon our

the same Leroy Cummins that owns Cummins'

"That is correct." Bruin shook his head. "We

so far," Bruin stated. "One Gloria Cohen was found alive, but in a shell-shocked

about this person that Cummins

able to locate Mr. Mercer. We're only hoping

"Detective, you mentioned that Cummins was found

for a few seconds before uttering, "We are not releasing that information at

"Detective, there are rumors that an animal, possibly a killer bear, murdered Cummins. Is

in conjunction with Cuyahoga Falls' authorities and informing residents to stay clear

Bruin turned and stepped back into the frigid confines of the house, leaving the ravenous

did the bear story get out that quick?" Bruin snarled at Fitzpatrick who was holding a Taser

"You know how some people are." He shrugged. "Someone else probably saw the tracks, too. Look at this." Fitzpatrick said while holding up the weapon.