Mr. Moriarty

December 6, 2013

English: Short Fiction
The Beast
The snowflakes fell onto the silent scenery. The lake was already covered in a thick layer of glass-like ice. As the snow hit, the flakes glided across the icy surface. Specks of black were scattered across the lake, fishermen trying to capture the swimming creatures below the surface. Tree branches swayed as gust of winds made them victim to their fury.
A sound came from behind, the pine boughs released their hold on the clump of snow. Quickly, I turned around. There was something hidden behind the dark green boughs with hints of white, from the snow that some how hung on, but as I looked over it moved. Slowly, he walked over. Could it be the damn raccoon that was scurrying through the garbage last night? Well whatever it was, it was gone now. The sound of a motor running grew louder as it came from behind me. Officer Warrick was on his way over, he really enjoyed using the new Ski-Doo Summit snowmobiles the taxpayers gave the police.
“Have you heard anything about the robberies back in town Jason?” Officer Warrick said.
“Yeah, what’s the news on those?” Jason said.
“We’re out looking to see if anyone knows anything that could help the investigation. So far nothing’s come up. Do you know anything that could of had to do with them?” he said.
“Well there was a highschool party going on that night, after the winter carnival dance. Maybe some kids were just being stupid. That’s all I can think of though.”
Officer Warrick gave the tip of his hat and drove off. Turning around was the hint of orange Jason had been waiting all day for. The flag of the ice fishing contraption swaying in the wind as it howled across the landscape. The water was piercing cold as it touched my hand. The line seemed incredibly loose. Has it been up so long that it was able to unhook itself? The end of the line confirmed his suspicions, the silver hook glaring at him, as if it was just trying to taunt him.
“This is the fifth time today! Damn fish!”
This put him over the edge, he grabbed the rest of the fish traps and put it on the sled. As Jason dragged the equipment off the lake he saw it. The camp had been broken into! A window shattered, the door was left ajar, and the trash cans were knocked over making it look like the robber made a run for the woods. Quickly, Jason dropped everything and ran into the camp. The furniture was thrown all over the room, couch pillows in the sink, picture frames laying on the ground, and even the couch was thrown on its back. The whole place was trashed. Nothing seemed to be stolen but even then, the damages were incredible. He grabbed the old-fashioned phone, and dialed “9-1-1”.
“9-1-1, how can I help you today?” the woman behind the phone.
“My camps been broken into, I can’t seem to figure out if anything was stolen but there’s been a lot of damage!”
“We’ve been getting calls all day about break ins, we’re in the the middle of an intensive investigation. I’m very sorry sir but we can’t help you right now. We’ll keep you posted as the investigation goes on.”
* * *
It’s been a month and there still has been no sign of the investigation getting any farther in their progress. The snow had been falling from the sky for the third day in a row. The light, white flakes falling to the ground, building up until the doorway was buried halfway. There was no point in going outside to shovel right now, this storm was only half way done! As Jason started to turn away from the window, some movement caught his eyes. There was something behind the pine tree. A face! There was a face between the branches! It was staring right at him. What was it? Covered in dark brown hair, extremely tall, probably around eight to nine feet tall. This sounded just like one of those things the neighbors kids kept talking about! Bigfoot.
Jason put his hand down, underneath the sink. Fumbling for the handgun that should be there, after a few tries of unhooking the latch that held the gun up against the sink the snap of the latch came and he put the gun to his side. Although there was a wall between him and this beast, Jason did not want to risk it. The staredown felt like it lasted forever. Slowly he started to move and once the beast saw the movement, and turned around and disappeared into the woods.
Was this real? Did he really see that? Is this a dream? Multiple questions filled his mind. Days went by while Jason just sat in his camp staring through the window at the spot where the head was. Occasionally he got up to put some logs on the fire or eat some food but his eyes were always on that spot. The day went on with nothing happening, just snow building upon more snow. Jason dozed off facing the silent scenery.
A loud pang suddenly woke him up, it was coming from the grandfather clock. He rubbed his eyes for a minute. As he took his hands away he could see them. Tracks, they were everywhere! Even on the porch… right in front of the window. It had been watching him sleep. The thought of the beast watching him in his most vulnerable stage sent chills down his spine. This could not be safe. There was a town meeting tonight, if he could rally enough people, they might be able to hunt this thing down. But the first problem would be making believers out of them.
After an hour of convincing with pictures of the footprints and the story, Jason finally rallied enough people for the hunt of bigfoot. The would go searching for it tomorrow. The morning couldn’t get any closer, however sleeping in the camp tonight was close to impossible for him. There was no way he was sleeping there, not after what happened the last night. Everyone understood that and he quickly got an offer to stay the night at the Robinson’s. Their camp was on the other side of the lake, this gave at least some comfort to him.
The following day he went back to his camp to grab the rifle he had just bought. As he walked up the pathway to the camp he could see another window had been shattered and there were even more footsteps. They were back last night too.
Everyone gathered around his camp examining the large, odd footprints. They started out the trek at 10:00 am and went on through the day. by 1 people started to give up. Jason had been walking for hours with his group. The tracks had been leading them up the mountain that overlooks the lake. Was it possible that they would ever find it? Just as Jason was ready to give up, part of the mountain caught his eye. A cave, the blackness of the rocks stuck out in the white snow worse then a flashlight in the night. Something about it was calling him towards it. More and more tracks started to appear as they worked their way closer to the cave. The cave was pitch black. It was impossible to see anything. Instantly Jason took off his bag and started shuffling through, in a few seconds there was light, he had found his flashlight. As Jason shined his light into the cave, he saw the face. The face of the beast was surrounded by several more. They all gathered, huffing a puffing. There must’ve been 12! The group started to inch away, but with every step backwards, the beasts stepped forwards. There was no distance being added between them. The beasts steps started to get faster until they were in some kind of jog. Jason raised his rifle, time slowed as he took aim at the beasts head. Then pulled the trigger.