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.

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

the medics before turning and

onto its stomach, he coldly stated out loud, "Forced insertion wounds to the rectal areas. Looks

"So where the hell is this fellow that Cummins

that was located next to the steps. "Yep, it

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

did that to Cummins?" Fitzpatrick stepped up beside both men. "C'mon, Brice, you saw that faggot bastard, he was torn in

"Unless it was a pack of wolves,

one set of paw

"Well, let's only hope that this Mercer guy escaped while he could." Bruin

so a naked man." Fitzpatrick said. "His clothes are still

of an angry animal shot out from upstairs. Every officer and detective that was in the basement pulled out their weapons before racing back up the

room, to their stunned surprise, the sounds that they were hearing were coming from

stood in the middle of the living room and listened to the roars and growls of the beast that

"Is that

a bear sound like that before." One

to eavesdrop until the crashing of wood came into earshot, which was followed by utter silence. Bruin

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

Every man inside peeked out the window to see news vans and reporters all descend upon the residence like a swarm

the big TV star

The very last thing Bruin wanted at that stage was to speak with nosey reporters, or anyone else for that matter, but it was his

stepped outside onto the icy porch with his hands slipped tightly

B.O.D. kidnapper?" A male reporter asked

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

"Wait a minute, Detective, are we talking about the same Leroy Cummins that owns Cummins'

is correct." Bruin shook his head. "We discovered sixteen bodies located in Mr. Cummins' basement

survivors, Detective?" "Just one, so far," Bruin stated. "One Gloria Cohen

"What about

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

mentioned that Cummins was

Bruin held his tongue for a few seconds before uttering, "We are not releasing that

"Detective, there are rumors that an

working in conjunction with Cuyahoga Falls' authorities and

and stepped back into the frigid confines

the fuck did the bear story get out that quick?" Bruin snarled at Fitzpatrick who

probably saw the tracks, too. Look at this." Fitzpatrick said while holding