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."

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

how old is this church?"

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

"No particular reason, I'm just fascinated with

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

"We're still working on that,

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

pastor all gawked down at the muddy carpet in

on," Linus panted, "look here. It appears as if the thing crashed through the window over there,

looked to their immediate left to see a long,

this place either." Alan noted. "Judging by the direction of the streak, it looks as though it were dragged

dragged

"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

floor, Detective." One of the officers commented. "We searched

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

Bruin," Longfellow scratched at his beard. "Last night we had our prayer meeting

forth until he

and wearily exhaled, "Somebody,

Linus." Fitzpatrick said while standing next to his exhausted partner. "The trail ends here. And we still got one fella

me, detectives, did the kidnapper leave any survivors?"

"Yes, sir,

"Thank the good Lord."

when all of those kidnapped people were murdered? No offense, padre, but four little girls were eaten

mysterious ways. I cannot explain it, but his love does endure forever. I can only hope and pray that the two survivors can pull their lives

rebuttal, Linus turned to Alan and whispered, "We need to get

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

here whenever you need me." The pastor

"You comin' with us, Brice?"

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 of info I need to collect just right

turning and walking out of the church.

what, poop," Alan asked with a snicker.

still standing behind the fence was the

Linus' once 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 towards their direction.

killed our last cow." The middle-aged,

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

wondering, do you two happen to live around these parts?"

to stare at Linus. His entire face was full of unshaven, silver fur that ruffled

the man's piercing demeanor, Linus pulled out his badge