The Beast of 1977 (Book 1)

Bruin and Fitzpatrick got out of their cruiser. Standing at the entrance of the tiny church was Brice, who was shivering like an overstuffed popsicle with his hands lodged securely inside his pockets.

As the detectives made their way towards the man, Linus couldn't help but to glance over at the white man and woman who were staring down at a mutilated cow on the ground.

There was something inside of Linus that wanted so badly to veer off over to where the couple was standing behind an old rugged, wooden fence. But with as much restraint as he could amass, the man maintained his course towards the long-suffering Brice and the tiny church he was standing in front of.

All three men entered the church through the double doors. Once they were inside, they caught sight of two, white officers who were conversing with an elderly white minister who was bundled up in a black winter coat.

Brice happened to look down at the carpet to find the same mammoth paw prints that he examined earlier, while Linus and Alan surveyed the freezing church.

"I sure hope to God no one was in here last night." Linus' teeth chattered while kneeling down to pick up even more strands of fur from off the floor.

"Guys, take a look at this." Brice said, pointing to the floor.

Linus and Alan made their way over to Brice's direction to observe what looked to be a smelly heap of waste.

"Is that what I think it is?" Linus turned up his nose.

"Yep," Brice replied in a snippy sort of voice while taking out a pair of small tongs from his coat pocket.

Linus and Alan looked on at the young man as though he were doing something wrong. They stood and watched as Brice poked and prodded at the dung like a science experiment until he was able to grab a hold of something.

"Do I even want to know what that is?" Alan cringed, too afraid to step any closer.

"You got it." Brice despondently replied as his tongs scooped up a partially eaten human thumb from out of the thickness of the feces.

Trying not to appear jarred by the scene, Linus too stood back and asked, "What is that over there?"

With his human body part still lodged in between the tongs' tight grip, Brice scooted forward and examined what appeared to be a glob of clear mucus lying on the floor, just a few feet away from the altar.

"Is it blood?" Fitzpatrick mumbled.

"It's blood, and then...some saliva." Brice answered.

"How do we know it's the saliva of the animal?" Alan questioned. "It did kill seven people last night. It could just be residue."

"True, but this is the only saliva sample that I've managed to collect all morning long so far. It looks as though the thing vomited. Most animals regurgitate their food, and then eat the remains."

"Excuse me, gentleman." The short, bearded minster approached the three men from behind. "Are you men police officers?"

"Yes, sir," Linus replied. "This is Detective Fitzpatrick, Brice, and I'm Bruin."

Longfellow." The genial man greeted, wiping the cold fog away from

"Mr. Longfellow, how old is this church?"

my," Longfellow pondered in his head, "this place has been around since 1883. It's

"No particular reason, I'm just

me, does anyone know just what it was that left those kinds of tracks, or what killed the Franklin's cow

still working on that, sir." Linus

look at this for a second." Brice stirred, crawling about on the floor in the direction of the

all gawked down at

the thing

to see a long, dark smudge streaked across the floor

leading out of this place either." Alan noted. "Judging by the direction of the streak, it looks as

"Who could've dragged something that

"We have no clue, sir." Linus replied while kneeling down and rubbing against the smudge. "It ends right here. Now, unless our friend can fly, there is

church has only one floor, Detective." One of the officers commented. "We searched

pastor and

"No, sir, Mr. Bruin," Longfellow scratched at his beard. "Last night we

forth until he found himself face to face with the crucified Christ

then turned around and wearily exhaled, "Somebody, please kick me in

trying to rack our brains over this, Linus." Fitzpatrick said while standing next to his exhausted partner. "The trail ends here. And we still got one fella that's

you tell me, detectives, did

"Yes, sir, we have two." Bruin

the good Lord." The

"Thank the Lord?" Linus smirked in a coy manner. "Where was the Lord when all of those kidnapped people were murdered? No offense, padre, but four little girls were eaten alive last night. It makes no sense

"Sir, the Lord works in mysterious ways. I cannot explain it, but his love does endure forever. I can only hope

Linus turned to Alan and whispered, "We

Alan grumbled before turning back to Longfellow and smiling, "Thanks for all your help,

"I'm here whenever you need me."

comin' with us, Brice?" Linus looked

Brice, with a plastic pouch in hand, said, "I think I'll hitch a ride back with some of the other officers. There's still a wealth

over at Alan before turning and walking out of the church. "Perhaps you're right about that guy, Al." Linus

wealth of what, poop," Alan asked with a snicker. "What the hell

fence was the couple who were still ogling down at the deceased cow in

rapid pace back to the cruiser gradually slowed the longer he stared on and on at the couple before he eventually paused and made a direct approach

"It killed our last cow." The middle-aged, ragged looking woman said without

looking down

"I was just wondering, do you two happen to live around these parts?" Linus

The woman turned her attention back to the dead animal while the man lifted his head to stare at Linus. His entire face was full of unshaven, silver fur that ruffled in the brazen wind. His brown eyes shot bullets at Linus like the question he asked was sinful. "We live around here." His

Unfazed by the man's piercing demeanor, Linus pulled out his badge and replied, "No, sir, we're Detectives Bruin