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."

My name is Pastor Gabriel Longfellow." The genial man greeted, wiping the cold fog away from his

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

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

"No particular reason, I'm just fascinated with old

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

working on that, sir." Linus seriously

a second." Brice stirred, crawling about on the

Linus, Alan and the pastor all gawked down at the muddy carpet in

the thing crashed through the window over there, took a stroll down the aisle,

to their immediate left to see a long, dark smudge

"There aren't any tracks leading out of this place either." Alan noted. "Judging by the direction of the streak, it

"Who could've dragged something

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

of the officers commented. "We searched every

the pastor and asked, "Sir, was there anyone else

"No, sir, Mr. Bruin," Longfellow scratched at his beard. "Last night we had our prayer meeting at six. I locked

with a sharp eye, Linus began to pace back and forth until he found himself face to face with

The detective then turned around and wearily exhaled, "Somebody, please kick

to rack our brains over this, Linus." Fitzpatrick said while

me, detectives, did the kidnapper leave

sir, we

"Thank the good Lord." The pastor

was the Lord when all of those kidnapped

does endure forever. I can only hope

turned to Alan

outta here." Alan grumbled before turning back to Longfellow and smiling,

"I'm here whenever you need me." The

"You comin' with us, Brice?" Linus

to his feet, 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

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

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

As they made their way outside, still standing behind the fence was the couple who were still ogling down at the deceased cow in the

back to the cruiser gradually slowed the longer he stared on and on at the

killed our last cow." The middle-aged, ragged looking woman

Linus stopped short of the fence before looking down at the animal that had

you two happen to

full of unshaven, silver fur that ruffled in the brazen wind. His brown eyes shot bullets at Linus like

demeanor, Linus pulled out his badge and