Sanctuary
I hunt a monster, the memory of which plagues me.
The elusive attacker, which seemed to be mainly nocturnal, was a source of anxiety for the Fairton community. It was active all throughout that winter, and no one was able to catch sight of it or (as some intended) to take a shot at it. The one exception to this was a certain Mr. Blake. Mr. Blake was my grandparents’ next-door neighbor and he claimed to have seen an immense bear-like creature fleeing from his pig pen after having killed one of his hogs. He speculated that he had interrupted the beast in the midst of one of its feasts.
No one took Mr. Blake seriously at the time, and when the winter passed into spring, the attacks ceased. Soon another summer arrived, and with it came more priceless moments spent in our forest meeting place. The summer came and went. Unfortunately, so did our relationship.
I do not know whether anyone has ever said it out loud or committed it to writing, but I know from experience that young love burns hard and then dies out quickly. By the time winter arrived, we were barely on speaking terms. I will not go into details other than to say that her jealousy destroyed our friendship. That is all that needs to be revealed.
One day she did not appear at the bus stop. Her failure to come to school was unusual given that she was rarely absent from her classes. When she did not come to school the second day, I became uneasy. On the third day a rumor went around school saying that she had gone missing from her parents’ home. She was officially declared missing on the fourth day. Her parents were unable to locate her and county authorities asked all the residents to be watchful and report any sightings.
On the fifth day I knew I was going to have to do something that I truly did not want to do. I had to go check our meeting place. Was she camping out there? Was she running away from home? Or was it something much worse—something unspeakable? Various scenarios ran through my mind. I just had to find out if she was there. I was still afraid to go into the woods alone, but I knew it had to be done.
As I feared and suspected, I found her there. She was dead, of course, and her skin was as white as an unpainted porcelain doll. There were two puncture wounds on her neck. She had a novel and a notebook next to her. It looked like she had been about to write me a letter, but she did not have the opportunity to get started. She only had the chance to write my name. I suppose she was interrupted during the process.
Terrified, I ran home and immediately told my parents what I had discovered. After that time my memories are somewhat vague. I do remember that I was treated like an outcast from that point until I left the county. The general consensus of many residents was that I must have had something to do with the death. After all, I found her. My name was clearly written on her notebook. I must certainly be guilty.
Fortunately, law enforcement was professional. The investigators and detectives did their duties well. I was questioned and it was determined that I was clearly not connected in any way to any murder. The cause of death was eventually determined to be not homicide but hypothermia, though I knew this to be false. I will never forget those puncture wounds.
As someone who was guilty in the eyes of so many, I was basically confined to our property and was home-schooled for the next two and a half years. I found the curriculum to be easy, and I finished high school a few months earlier than I would have in public school. By that time I had already started to develop a plan for my life, and for now Fairton would play no role in it.
A major part of my plan was to join the army when I was legally able to do so, and two weeks after my 18th birthday I left home to serve in the military. I enlisted as an infantryman, and as soon as I met the qualifications I applied to and was accepted into the army’s sniper school. Afterwards there came the practical application of my training, in Iraq, where I plied my skill set.
After eight years I separated from the service and almost immediately had to attend my grandfather’s funeral (my grandmother had already passed away). I then took a break from life, staying with my parents for a time before doing anything meaningful. My folks had moved out of the state and far away from Mackenson County not long after I did, hurt and unable to forgive all those people who spoke so negatively about us.
I had plenty of money in the bank, enough to live on for years if I was frugal. One day I had been pondering on the careful use of my money. That very same month a lawyer’s office called: My grandparents had left me their estate. Their big Victorian house, the farmhouse where I grew up, and the 20 acres of woods were mine. I also inherited a staggering two million dollars. I was the sole heir.
I spent the rest of that first year buying a house and re-acclimating to civilian life. When not busy, I immersed myself in the study of cryptids—non-human creatures that have been reported but not proven to exist. From tales of ghosts to stories of Bigfoot type creatures, I consumed every bit of information that I could find.
Of particular interest to me was a creature described as “the howler,” though I could find little information other than a report on the thing’s appearance. It was supposed to be tall, large, and bear-like. Another cryptid that I discovered was called “the bear beast.” It too was described as an immensely tall creature resembling a bear. Then there were numerous tales of “wild men” and other things that were dreaded and feared by the Native Americans which had previously inhabited the land. I found all of these to be interesting because they were said to haunt the woods of Texas.
I returned to our Fairton home-place the next summer and met with the owner of a local landscaping business. I hired his company to maintain my property, and they carry out the upkeep to this very day. I also retained a house keeping service. With the exception of the winter months, someone arrives once every four months to clean the interiors of both of my Fairton homes.
As for those winter days, these are the times when I occupy the property. Since I have been coming back to Fairton, no one has ever discovered my identity. Perhaps those events that took place during my teenage years have been forgotten, or perhaps not. Whatever the case may be, I return to my ancestral home every year after the first freeze. If anyone knew why, they would probably think that I have taken leave of my senses. It matters little to me. Plenty of residents had already questioned my sanity all those years ago. I am accustomed to it.
When I first came back to Fairton, I spent some time in the woods, carrying out another part of my overall plan. I have 20 acres with tall enclosed (and well camouflaged) deer stands built on every four acres. I also built hog pens near each of the deer stands. Eventually I will put hogs in one of those pens, but as of yet I have not done so. If my hunting season does not go well this year, I will probably bring the hogs in next year. I am, of course, as I went on to explain to Thomas, engaged in monster hunting.
I am almost 35 years old and have never had a wife or any other serious relationship other than the one of which I have previously spoken. Now I consider myself married to a goal: Every winter I post myself in one of the stands and I wait. I wear two 44 magnums, holstered, and I keep a semiautomatic 12 gauge shotgun close by; it is loaded in series: Buckshot, slug. My main weapon is a 50 caliber bullpup sniper’s rifle. It’s powerful enough to be defined as an anti-material weapon, which means that it can destroy equipment, but mine is used specifically as an anti-monster rifle.
I got a fleeting glimpse of it, just once, but I did not have enough time to shoot it. It is indeed a creature, an animal, about nine feet tall. It is gray in color with long, shaggy fur. Its footprint looks almost human, but much larger and with distinct claws on the ends of the toes. It is muscular, bi-pedal, and very fast. It does look like a bear of some sort, but it is obviously not, as its head resembles a jackal. Its two fang-like teeth are clearly visible.
I will keep coming to Fairton for as long as possible. It comes during the winter, and I come during the winter. I will keep hunting the monster that troubles this area, the thing that destroyed so much of my youth. When will I stop? I will not stop. I will not stop until I kill it or it kills me.
The End.
© 2023-2026 Ren Adama
