The Write Place

The officer drove through the night, going as quickly as the road would allow in the mountainous forests of West Virginia.  He had responded to calls like this a thousand times before in his career.  Though the anxiety had never left, he had gotten used to it.  He prepared himself as always for what may lay ahead.  A peeping tom, a violent criminal, he could only guess. The roads at least were familiar, he thought to himself, slowing down as he neared the turn.  He knew the house would be right around the corner.

“Dispatch I am on site now,” he said as he pulled the car to the side of the road.  The long, country driveway opened up to his right. “Dispatch I am stopping at the edge of the driveway.  I have what looks like the suspect heading in my direction across the road.” 

The officer leaned forward in the car, eyes fixed on the tall dark figure.

“Good grief the sonofagun really is that big,” the words escaped his lips without a thought. He unbuckled himself as he opened the door, taking as little time as possible to get into position.  “Gotta be him, dispatch I am attempting to detain the suspect. Send backup, he’s as big as they said.”

He took aim with his handgun, being sure to hide behind the car door.  The tall dark figure had hidden itself behind the line of trees alongside the road. 
“Stay where you are with your hands up!” he shouted at his suspect. The lack of response confused him.  The Officer began to think something was off, more instinct at first than anything.  Then he noticed the creature wasn’t just tall, but too tall.  Then he saw the eyes, red like lights of their own. Something crackled over the radio, a call to return but he could not make it out.  Not with the figure that stepped into the headlights now staring back at him absorbing all of his attention.  The thing was easily nine feet tall, hairy, appearing both like a man and an ape.  Its face was uncannily human, and it stood just like a man. But everything, everything else was wrong, the officer thought to himself.   He felt his heart racing, pounding in his chest as he stared at this thing before him. 

“What the?” he asked.  The thing walked forward letting out a bloodcurdling roar, unmistakably the threat of a predator.  The officer fell backward, his body leaving his control in panic.  It’s amazing how much can run through your mind, he thought to himself.  His wife, children, all his time on the force.  He could even smell the cookies his mother made when he was young. He would have laughed at the absurdity, but he knew he stared death in the face.  Everything came to him in an instant as he wondered if there would ever be another day for him.

Gun fire cracked from the property, ripping into the creature’s body.  The blood shot out from the creature as the high caliber rounds thudded into it, followed by what he recognized as M-series assault rifle munitions fire. He froze, unsure who, or even at this point what, would be coming to what he hoped was his rescue.

“Keep your distance from him 5-0.  Pour it into him!” to his relief a human voice said.  He could hear the footsteps and other commands coming from the same distance amidst a few more shots.

“Move, move, he’s going down,” another voice said as the creature tottered and fell.  The earth shook as the monster collapsed.  Coming to some sort of reason again the officer looked up to the right to see men kitted in military gear.   By his count there were eight, one with an M82 rifle, one an M249 light machine gun, the others carrying assault rifles.

“Would you look at that, hollow points work on his soft fleshy body,” said the lead man as he stepped up to the now fallen creature. “Humans One, squatch nothing.”

“But an ugly corpse,” added the tall man with black hair, holding the M82 at the ready. “Reports appear right, he’s the one.  Right height, and that nasty scar on his face.”

“Form the perimeter. Suits are coming soon,” yelled a man coming up from where they had appeared, revealing his position in the pecking order. “Make sure he’s in the big sleep.”

“First time huh pig?” said the first man, his blue eyes dazzling in the light of the night before firing into the downed creature’s head.  In spite of the slur, the officer could see this rather large man was charismatic.  Though at the moment he didn’t especially appreciate it.

“What was that thing?” the officer said.  His voice still poured confusion and the high anxiety of an encounter with death.

“Are you asking because you don’t know or because you can’t believe it?” said the man who appeared in charge. “Because you won’t’ get an answer either way.”

“Well, he’s what you think,” said the tall blond haired, blue eyed man, grinning wide as the squad secured a perimeter. “But nobody told you that because nobody was here.”

“Pardon his sense of humor, he’s charming when you get to know him.  But alas you won’t,” added the black-haired man.  All wore camo in clothing and paint upon their faces.  They had rushed in with nods down, though they were beginning to pull them up indicating their hunt was over for now.

“The report was one.  I guess that’s my prowler?” the officer said as he began to pick himself up.

“Sure was,” said the lead.

“That thing, in the hills?” he said in shock. “I was just on him tonight. How long were you on his tail?”

“Don’t ask questions when you don’t need the answer.  You will just make trouble for yourself.  You will know what you need to know, we’ll know the rest. Your captain will be talking to you soon enough Officer O’Neil,” said the squad leader holding out a hand to help O’Neill up.

Their lead officer wore no insignia, in fact none of them did.  They somehow had his name while Officer O’Neill only knew he wasn’t supposed to know anything. The officer could tell these were men, as it were, who were never here. Taking the man’s hand and standing up, he saw the man eye to eye.

“Evening O’Neill,” said an approaching white haired police officer, his captain insignia plain even in the night.

“Well, it is that.  This is what I think it is?” Officer O’Neil asked.  His voice betrayed his bewilderment, and his gasping for air his exhaustion after the encounter.

“Not now, O’Neill.  This was the lurker.  We’ll get debrief in an hour.  Looks like these gentlemen will want to talk to you” the captain said, pointing to a newly arrived black SUV before walking him over to the captain’s car.

“Why is it always a black SUV?” O’Neill said as he walked away.  The large blue-eyed man must have overheard him and let out a hearty laugh.

“Bad luck for the copper tonight, Leflore,” Jaeger said, walking over to his companion who had put himself out of earshot of the officers.

“Worse for the squatch.”

“Just how we like it, Leflore,” noted their commanding officer.  He walked over, setting himself between the two large men.  He was not short, but next to the two one would make that mistake.

“Every time McCready.  Bergs on tag and bag tonight?” asked the tall blond soldier.

“Sure, is Jager.  He’ll get used to it, has to since he’s got more of’em coming. And he has Petersen to wipe his nose and show him how it’s done in the field.  Not the same as in training with a long dead one. First with a fresh skunk ape is always, well memorable,” McCready said. “And it is tradition to give the noobs meatwagon duty for the first time with every one of them.”

“Not as good as your first with a lady,” Leflore said, smirking to himself.
“No, vastly inferior. Typically, more hair than the ladies. The kid will work out, I think.  He was good in Kandahar, and that was years ago.  Proved himself a few times,” McCready said, turning briefly to look at Officer O’Neill and his captain being approached by men in black suits. 

“Hope the suits go easy on the guy.  They’re more rigid than their pressed shirts.  Seems like all they know is force,” Jaeger shook his head at the memories.  It was default, so it seemed to be rough on a guy in the wrong place at the wrong time. 

“Just pisses everyone off and they end up on a forum like reddit or 4chan.  Most people respond to force, but they respond better to a little honesty and understanding,” McCready said.

“Thanks mom,” said Jaeger.

“Your welcome sonny boy,” McCready said, with the casual air of familiarity.  A young, fatigued figure walked over to the three, facing McCready.  His rifle hung on a strap as he poured water over bloody combat gloves.

“Don’t inform the Henderson’s but Harry is dead, tagged, and covered.  He’s ready for forensics when they come.  Sucker weighs a ton, not that that’s news,” he said.  McCready reached out a hand to the young man.  He received it, and the two shook in the light of the night.

“I’ll pass it onto the Old man.  Good shooting kid.  Welcome to the squad Umberger.”