The Truth

Chapter 1: News

The smell of coffee hit his nose as he pushed open the door. A small chime rang and the cashier, a young blonde girl, looked up and smiled pleasantly. She waited until he reached the counter.

"The usual, Mr. James?"

He smiled back at her and withdrew a crisp five-dollar bill from his wallet.

"That would be wonderful, Dina."

He waited and then took his drink, an iced London fog in a slender clear glass. He made his way to his normal seat, a small table in the corner by the window, perfect for when it rains. He then pulled out the day's newspaper.

He was young, only 25, but the locals always made fun of him, ever since he moved in six months ago, for his old style of life. He loved a good cup of tea, a newspaper or a history book, and to go to bed at 9 PM sharp.

He settled into his chair and flipped to the second page of his paper.

"It's just terrible. She was so young too." Two women at a table behind him whispered back and forth. He tried to focus on the article but found himself drawn into their conversation.

"They say it was probably a wild animal. No human could do that." One of the women shared. The other shook her head, a sad look on her face.

"No human would do that." He thought to himself, mentally correcting the woman. Sure, a human could probably do whatever the woman was talking about. Humans are capable of terrible feats, if they have enough time, skill, or determination. He shook the thoughts from his head and focused back on his reading. He finished his newspaper and drink faster than usual.

He left the coffee shop and walked down the street to a small convenience store. He grabbed a half gallon of milk, a pack of gum, and a blank notebook. As he walked towards the counter, he could hear two other customers talking in low voices.

"Are they going to send someone out to investigate? Isn't it dangerous?"

He ignored the whispers and placed his items on the counter. An older man with gray hair and ice blue eyes looked up from a book. He smiled, put the book down and stood to man the counter.

"Daniel my boy! How have you been this fine day?" He seemed so cheerful that it almost pained Daniel to ask.

"Good, but did something happen? Everybody in town's been whispering."

The old man stopped scanning the pack of gum, the smiled faded from his face.

"Ah. So, you haven't heard yet."

Daniel shook his head and the old man leaned forward over the counter and lowered his voice.

"A young girl, Carly Manson, was found dead last night. They think it was some kind of animal, she was really torn up. Poor thing." The old man shook his head, his face grim. "And what's worse is her little brother was there to see the whole thing."

Daniel raised an eyebrow. A witness?

"If her brother saw, why do they only think it was an animal?"

The old man shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"Well, you see...he said it wasn't an animal. Apparently, it looked like a man, but with long claws and sharp spikes sticking out of him. I guess whatever he saw was just too traumatic for him."

Daniel frowned for a second and decided to question further.

"If it really was a man, wouldn't the brother have seen his face?"

The old man studied Daniel's face for a moment, wary of how long the conversation was lasting. Daniel put on his best concerned but confused face. He wanted to know more.

"He says the man was wearing a hooded cloak. The only thing he could make out in the darkness was the man's smile." The old man backed up a step and looked away. "Just thinking about it gives me chills." He said under his breath.

"And that's all I really know right now. I'll spare you some of the more graphic details I've heard."

Daniel's eyes widened and he put up his hands and waved them back and forth.

"Ah! No...thank you...I'd rather not hear any more details!" He sputtered.

The old man smiled at Daniel's actions and turned back to the cash register.

"That'll be $5.40. I hope you have a good day, despite what happened. Be careful on your way home."

The old man's cheerful demeanor returned as he said his goodbyes. Daniel smiled, gave the old man a slight nod, and made his way out of the store.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The way home was uneventful. Daniel tried to maintain an average pace and not run all the way home. People would think that was strange. There was nothing strange about him. He was average. Just a web developer who worked remotely and moved out to the small town to find some peace and quiet.

He walked into his home, making sure to lock the door behind him. He put the milk in the fridge, placed the new notebook on his desk and then walked to the bedroom. He stood there for a second, thinking, then he walked to the closet. He hesitated for a second and then ripped the door open. Clothes hung neatly from hangers and lay in organized piles on shelves. There was one pair of hiking boots sitting on the ground, perfectly centered in the closet. They were clean. Spotless, like they had never been worn. Daniel knew different. He reached down to pick up the boots and brought them into the kitchen. He flipped one over and walked over to the knife block. One knife was missing. He checked the drawers and counters, then breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted it sitting in the dish washer. He took the knife and walked back to the shoe. Careful not to cut himself, he separated the sole from the rest of the shoe. He then proceeded to deconstruct the pair of shoes, cutting apart each piece until he was only left with an unrecognizable pile of rubber and leather. He threw the piles into the trash and walked back into the bedroom.

He scanned the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing. He walked to the bathroom. It too looked normal. Plain, and clean. He moved on to the laundry room. He rummaged through the laundry basket, only finding the articles of clothing worn the week prior. He opened the dryer and found what he was looking for, a black hooded jacket. He held it in his hands and stared. After a moment he walked back to the bedroom and threw the jacket on the bed. He walked back to the closet and found the oldest pieces of clothing he owned. He threw them onto the bed next to the jacket. He moved back to the kitchen and grabbed a medium sized garbage bag. He took the time to fold each piece of clothing and place them neatly in the bag.

Next, he walked back to the bathroom and bent to open a cabinet tucked under the sink. The space was full of cleaning supplies of every kind. He began to clean. He was sure he cleaned the night before, but cleaning again never hurt. He scrubbed down every surface, swept every corner, looked in every nook and cranny for something he might have missed. It took hours. It was as good as it was going to get. He sighed and went to bed. His sleep was far from restful that night.