The Maple Ridge Entity

I arrived at Maple Ridge Elementary School with about twenty other squad cars having already arrived. I was welcomed to a crowd of wailing parents demanding to know the well-being of their children.

"I'm very sorry. I don't know," was all I could say.

Lacey, the poor woman that discovered this tragedy, had curled herself into a ball. Officer Johnson attempted to console her, but all she would do is rock back and forth repeating, "My baby," over and over. She stunk of vomit and blood.

The scene that welcomed me was surreal. First there was the blood, the stench of which hit me like a blow to face. The bodies of students littered the halls and classrooms. Their faces, those that had them, were twisted in pain and fear. The walls were marked with craters from where their little bodies made impact. I only pray their deaths were quick.

I stopped to inspect one such crater. Stuck within the cracks of the wall were bits of flesh and yellow hair. Over the crater, a large clawed, six fingered hand left is mark in blood. At the base of the wall was the headless corpse of a little boy. He was likely no older than eight. In his hand he clenched a pencil as a brawler might clench a knife. I remember being grateful that my daughter was home sick and not at school.

"Jesus fuck," said Officer Winters from behind me.

I motioned for him to check out the computer lab while I went to search the art room. Blood and vicera decorated the walls and whiteboard in a maddening art form that only the devil himself could appreciate. The teacher, Mr. O'Conner, sat curled up behind his desk. His knees were held tight to his chest. He was likely the last to die. His cowardice would have allowed him to hear the cries and screams of his student's, before succumbing to death himself.

I returned to the main corridor to meet up with Officer Winters and saw that Officer McCabe had decided to join us. Considering what we were investigating, I doubt the decision was his. Together we pushed through the first set of double doors to the left. This room would have been the gymnasium.

The bleachers had been pulled from the walls, bent, broken, and torn apart. Blood and bits of flesh created a macabre varnish to the remaining wood. A young girl, her upper half was tangled in the net of a basketball hoop. Her lower half had been split in two with one leg laying near my feet and the other one missing.

Next we searched the boys locker room. Seven little boys, the oldest being no older then ten, had been dismembered and shoved into the lockers or tossed aside. In the showers were the remains of an eighth little boy. He was left hanging by a noose fashion from his own intestines. I'm not ashamed to admit that I emptied my stomach right there on the floor.

I didn't need to go into the girls locker room to know what had happened in there. If the boys locker room was any indication, it was going to be just as bad. However, I did go in, on the slim chance that there was even one survivor. I knew I was kidding myself and a brief search confirmed it.

We searched every room of that school and every scene was the same. Students and faculty had been dismembered, crushed, or disemboweled and thrown aside like litter. But it was in the auditorium where things got really scary.

As we approached the Henry Merrick Auditorium we couldn't help but notice the bloody drag marks leading inside. Alongside the more prominent of the drag marks were the footprints from a set of size 11 children's shoes. I felt my heart racing, my breathing quicken, and I was shaking. My own body was telling me to get the hell out of there. McCabe eased open the door and I peered inside followed by Winters.

Every seat had been twisted, snapped, and turned inside out. The body's of little boys and girls were a mix of shattered bones and stripped flesh. Strewn over the floor were their internal organs, crushed and shredded. On the stage, crouched down in the shadows with her back to us, was a little brunette girl in a blue dress and black shoes.

"Hey kid," I called, "You okay?"

Still crouched, she turned her head in our direction. She looked at us with an unsettling smile and soulless eyes. A low rumbling growl echoed off the walls. She stood up and stepped forward. In an instant, she crossed the auditorium to stand in front of me. Then came the screams from my fellow officers followed by pops, snaps, and a sickening wet thud as their limbless bodies fell to either side of me. Six deep claw marks were dug into their vests.

"Hi Daddy," she giggled, then she was gone.

I immediately phoned my wife, but she didn't answer. Panicking, I ran to my car, threw on the lights, and drove home as quickly as I could.

"Lana, Sweetheart," my voice trembled, "Are you home, baby? Are you okay?"

She didn't respond. I ran through the house looking for her, calling her name, screaming her name.

"Gina," I screamed for my wife, but no answer.

Then I found her, in the basement. Her stomach had been split open, her internal organs spilled out beneath her. Her eyes and tongue were missing. Shocked, I fell backwards into the wall. I curled myself into a ball and let the tears flow until I lost consciousness. Now every time I close my eyes I relive it. I relive it all.