'36-year-old man dead after horrific bear attack near Bath. The father of two was found dead in Royal Victoria Park in an apparent bear attack early this morning, his body mutilated and his heart missing.'
"Bear attack," I muffled to myself as I shut my laptop. There hadn't been a bear sighting in the United Kingdom in over 500 years. But I wasn't surprised that the local authorities had attributed the murder to a bear. What else could have inflicted such wounds? In their eyes, nothing. But to a trained eye? A lot more.
This wasn't an isolated incident. If it had been, it might not have caught my attention. But the number of odd attacks happening all around Somerset had worryingly increased the past few months, and I could no longer ignore them.
"Come on, Dee, let's go pack our bags," I said to the giant ball of white fur lying at my feet.
She jumped to her feet, now fully alert, and started barking, apparently not so excited at the idea of flying to England.
Dee had always been by my side for as long as I could remember. We grew up together, and were as close as could be. She always had my back when we were out hunting, and was a trusty ally when it came to tracking creatures. Despite her good looks— she looked like an arctic wolf with her thick, shiny white fur and bright blue eyes, she was as protective as a mama bear, and wouldn't let anybody come near me, snarling at anyone until they turned away. Her protectiveness was more often than not useful as she saved my ass more than once, but it was also a burden. She didn't make it easy to make friends when she threatened to rip their hands off if they came a little too close to me. But with a life like mine, making friends was the last of my worries. Always being on the road, never staying in the same city for more than a month, or until a case was closed was straining, but it was my life, and had been ever since my parents were killed by a creature when I was fourteen.
I wasn't with them when it happened. I was down the border in Wyoming, spending Spring break at my uncle's, Richard. I owed him everything. After the passing of my parents, he took me in without a shadow of hesitation and offered me love and the comfort of a home when I needed it the most. He was the one who told me the nighttime stories my parents liked to share with me were true, and trained me to defend myself in case I would ever be confronted with what killed my parents, or another creature. He was the one who made me who I am today.
A Hunter.
He had tried to shield me from this life, to have me lead a normal life but how could I, knowing how terrifying the outside world was? The knowledge that blood-thristy creatures lived among us, that their kind had killed my parents was enough for me to give up the idea of a normal life.
Rick was a Hunter, and a skilled one. He taught me everything I knew, despite him forbidding me to hunt. 'It's too dangerous for an inexperienced teenager', he'd said. Of course I didn't listen and after almost getting killed by a vampire when I was sixteen, he made me promise to never go hunting again. And I agreed. Thinking about that night still made me shudder. I had never been so close to death then, and the frequent nightmares I still had to this day were a constant reminder. I gave up hunting for two years. Two full years of going to school, never spending more than six months in the same city or school, making it impossible to make friends. We were constantly on the move, running away from invisible forces as I called them. I never understood Rick's obsession to move us across the country so often. I never complained about it, too grateful to have a roof above my head and food in my belly. About the not-hunting part though, I complained quite often. I could feel it in my blood, the urge to hunt, to rid the world of the evil that roamed it.
To find the creatures that killed my parents.
The chances to find them were slim considering the number of years that had passed and the distance I had travelled since then. And I also didn't know much about the attack.
It took Dee and I a couple of days to reach the United Kingdom. I hated leaving her in a cage for such a long trip, but there was unfortunately no alternative this time. Crossing the Atlantic ocean by boat would have taken a lot longer, and I wasn't sure passengers would have appreciated being snarled at by my travel companion.
The last time I was in the UK, I was a baby. My parents moved us to middle of nowhere Canada before my first birthday, looking for a quieter life. And that was exactly what they found in Blue River. Lost in the Rocky Mountains, there was absolutely nothing to do in our town except watch vegetables grow. I hadn't missed the quiet town after I moved to the US to live with Rick. Only the memories of the time I spent with my parents.
"Second door on your right," the middle-aged lady behind the reception desk said, her arm stretched in that direction.
I smiled politely and gave her a small nod before making my way to the Chief's office. I needed to learn what the police knew about the 'bear attack' and gather enough information to be able to find the creature who killed that innocent man. A case always started at the police station.
I knocked on the door before pulling at my pencil skirt. It had a bad habit of sliding up, but money was tight and I couldn't afford a tailored suit.
"Agent Parker, please come in," whom I assumed to be the chief of the station said as he let me in his office. He closed the door behind him before turning around, glancing at me from head to toe not very discreetly. "I was surprised to learn that the FBI finds interest in a bear attack in my city", he said as he offered me a seat.
He walked around his desk and sat on the black leather chair facing me. The dark circles underneath his eyes and the unkept scruff on his jaw told me he hadn't had a good night of sleep in a while. He was looking at me the way most law officers did, with intrigued and sceptical eyes. I couldn't blame them, I was barely twenty-five and pretending to be an FBI agent. Some questioned it, but most went with it, too scared of being reprimanded by the Bureau.
"Is that what you classified it as?" I asked as I sat down on one of the two chairs facing his desk.
"That's what the autopsy report said, yes. The injuries couldn't have been inflicted by a man. We thought of a wolf maybe, but the force required to leave such–" he hesitated, as if lost for words. "I've just never seen anything like it."
I could tell by looking at him that he'd indeed never faced any creatures before or the aftermath. His aging skin was paler now, his eyes wide as he thought of the victim. Seeing a body in such a state was traumatizing, I knew it from experience. And it never got easier.
"Did you find any footprints near the body? He was found at Royal Victoria Park, correct? Has any DNA samples been retrieved from the wounds?"
"There was little left of the body, Miss– agent," he quickly corrected himself, his cheeks warming to a brighter colour. He cleared his throat and added, "It was pouring that night and our team wasn't able to find anything on the scene."
"Not even on the body? I am sure your medical examiner must have found hairs of some kind, no?"
I really wondered how the British police could think a bear attacked a man in Bath, or even in the country. They must have known how insane that sounded. Bears had been extinct in the United Kingdom since the 16th century.
"Nothing identifiable," he answered, frustration clear on his face.
My eyebrows furrowed. It was nearly impossible that a creature hadn't left some kind of DNA on the body. Skin, hairs, a claw maybe?
"Where's the body now?" I asked and the look on the man's face changed to disapproval.
"At the coroner's office. But trust me, agent, you do not want to see it."
"I'd like to be the judge of that, if you'll allow me," I answered, a little too harshly.
I knew he was trying to protect whatever innocence he thought I had, but that innocence had died with my parents.
The ride to the coroner's office was filled with small talk. It turned out, Chief Turner was a lot more aware of the world than I expected. He knew the bear theory was ridiculous, but he also didn't know any better.
"You don't seem to think a bear did it," he said as we stopped at a red light. "I wouldn't have believed it myself if it wasn't for the state of the body."
The car started again when the light turned green.
"But if the FBI's on the case, I am starting to think we might be wrong."
I stayed silent when he turned his head to his left to look at me. He smiled.
"Let me guess, confidential?"
"You guessed right," I answered with a soft laugh.
It didn't take long for us to reach the building where the coroner's office was located. I followed Chief Turner down the long corridor in the basement of the building, the temperature considerably chiller than outside. I tried to hide the shivers that trembled through my body not only at the sudden change in temperature but also at what the place represented. The smell of death mixed with chemical scents. We entered the room at the very end of the hallway and were hit by a smell ten times stronger. How could anyone work here? I faced death on a daily basis, but the smell of a rotting creature was nothing compared to that of a corpse.
The room was large, white walls were covered with either square metal doors or cabinets and sinks, and counters were covered in bottles and medical instruments of all sorts.
"Jerry", the Chief of police said to the redhead man dressed in a white lab coat sitting on a stool, his back to us.
The man turned around, eyebrows raised until a smile appeared on his lips at the sight of us. Or rather at the sight of Chief Turner. Judging by the way they were looking at each other, the two must have been friends.
"Chief," the man, who couldn't have been over forty, answered as he walked around the two mortuary trolleys sitting in the middle of the room to meet us near the door. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"This is Agent Parker, from the Bureau," Chief Turner said, bringing the redhead's attention to me. He nodded at me in acknowledgment, and his lips curled into a small smile. His eyes were bright and kind, and I wondered how someone who looked so full of life could work in such a place. "She's requested to see John Fridman's body."
The same way Turner's eyebrows furrowed when I asked him to see the body, Jerry's face couldn't hide his surprise.
"Why is the Bureau interested in a bear attack, and in England out of all places?"
"Don't ask me— I said the same damn thing," Chief Turner answered with a jaded shrug.
"May I see the body please?" I asked to hurry things up just as a ringtone started to echo in the cold room. Chief Turner dug his hand into the front pocket of his uniform to retrieve his ringing phone.
"I have to take this," he said after looking at the screen. "I'll let you two at it. Might want to bring a bucket for the lady," he added before leaving the room, the door softly shutting behind him.
"There is not much left of it," Jerry told me as he walked to the end of the room.
He stopped in front of one of the dozens of metallic doors covering the wall and opened it before sliding the metal bed out of the wall, a form-less mass covered with a sheet lying on it. My stomach churned before I even saw what was left of Mr. Fridman.
"Are you sure you'd like to—" he hesitated.
I could tell by the look on his face that what I was about to see would probably haunt me for a long time. But I needed to see it if I wanted to find out what caused the injuries.
I nodded, my lips sealed tight, trying to resist the urge to spread the content of my stomach on the sparkling clean floor just at the smell of the remains. Jerry sighed and pulled the sheet away, revealing what had to be the most horrifying thing I would ever witness in my entire life. The body was unrecognisable. A gaping hole replaced the victim's face, his skull crushed into dust, his torso barely attached to his hips by some bare muscles. His rib cage and stomach had been ravaged, what looked like stew laying where his organs should have been.
Again, I had to refrain from getting sick at the sight. Even I had never seen such gruesomeness before. Whatever had done that to the poor man was barbaric, and clearly not human, or animal.
"I did warn you," Jerry said, empathetic. I ignored his comment.
Once the initial shock passed, I looked more closely at the victim's legs. They were streaked with bloody marks that cut through the muscles and the bones. What creature was so powerful that a strike could cut through muscle and bone? Not one I had ever met, that was certain. I would probably have to call for backup on this case if I didn't want to end up like Mr. Fridman.
"Did you perform the autopsy yourself?" I asked Jerry when I judged I had looked at the mass of flesh for long enough.
"Me?" the man answered with a chuckle as he pulled the sheet back on the remains. "Nah, I'm just Doctor McAlistair's assistant. He's away at the moment. Often leaves the city on a whim and comes back a week or so later. Perks of being the medical examiner and not the assistant," he continued with a sarcastic laugh.
I didn't need to be psychic to know that the man didn't value his boss very much. And was obviously jealous of his peer.
"Will covered for him— I mean Dr. Stoker," he said, pushing the bed back inside the tiny chamber inside the wall and locking the metallic door behind it. "He's a surgeon at Royal United Hospital. Often covers up for Dr. McAlistair. He was the one who examined the body and wrote the report, so he's the one you'll wanna chat with."
Chief Turner joined us while Jerry was giving me Dr. Stoker's contact information. I thanked the man and let the policeman drive me back to the station where my rental awaited me.
I had a million questions to ask Dr. Stoker, but they would wait. A long and hot shower was my priority after standing in that death room for so long.
--
I am so excited to be back with a new book! This one is already almost completed and you won't have to wait months to read all of it. I took inspiration for this book from my recent reads: From Blood and Ash, ACOTAR, A Discovery of Witches and other super popular Booktok books. I hope you'll it as much as I do!
A note on Ghost of You and Spies & Lies: I promise I'll finish those stories at some point in time.