Chapter 3

Detective Smith left the library armed with the mysterious deed Mariel gave him and started walking. Where he needed to go next couldn't have been more obvious. He reached the fenced off dirt path once again, hesitantly considering what he was about to do. Like he had previously worried, he would need a warrant from the mayor to be able to investigate the path without losing his job. But would anyone really believe him? If he told anyone at town hall what he had read and seen he would be laughed out of the building. But the detective knew that the answers he was looking for were beyond that barricade, it was almost like something was calling him. So he hopped the fence and once he was on the ground he could tell that the path was much longer than he anticipated. He began to walk.

The periwinkle sky began to fade into purple and the air started to cool. Though, Smith couldn't help but notice the unusual silence. There was a breeze but the trees never swayed. There wasn't a single sight or sound of any animal, not even a cricket. There was only the sound of the detective's shoes walking along the dirt.

Yet he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.

Eventually Detetive Smith reached the end of the path and came upon a cabin. He could hear classical music coming from inside. Although it was muffled, it sounded loud against the otherwise dead quiet. Not taking any time to waste, detective Smith flung open the door and stepped in. A man with jet black hair, who surprisingly didn't seem bothered by Smith's sudden appearance, sat in a leather chair and sipped tea as Danse Macabre played on a phonograph.

" Took you longer to get here than I had expected, " The mysterious man remarked as he set his cup on a small table beside him. " Then again, you were never really supposed to find out about this place,"

" Who are you? " Detective Smith asked.

" Straight to the point now, are we? " the man responded without breaking his eerie grin. " The name's Vincent. And guessing as to who you are, that should ring a bell, shouldn't it? " It took a moment, but the detective recognized who he was now. At least he suspected.

" You're… but… but how? How could you possibly still be alive? " Vinicents grin turned into a sinister smile.

" The same way you won't be, " Vincint said, suddenly leaping from the chair and snatching the unknown author's journal from Smith's hands before running out the door.

Detective Smith gave chase, but it had already turned to night. He could barely see through the darkness and stumbled upon rocks and ran into twigs. Yet Vincent leapt through every obstacle like a gazelle. Eventually Vincent fled into a small shed. When Smith went after him, it was completely empty except for a trap door on the ground. As much as he pulled and pried, it remained sealed. Suddenly, a loud shriek shook the ground and trees. The inhuman sound bounced across the walls of the shed and the floor seemed to dance underneath Smith's feet. Disoriented, Smith exited the shed to find a giant feathery beast perched upon the trees, along with a murder of crows that let out a screeching symphony that pierced his soul and told him to run.

As the cracking of trees and branches sounded behind him, the detective ran and ran. His vision blurred with fear and he wasn't paying attention to where he was going. His mind was empty and he couldn't think and as he ran through branches and thorns that cut his face, legs and arms and made him bleed he never slowed down.

After what felt like an eternity, detective Smith came upon a clearing riddled with the rotting remains of what used to be buildings and an old stone fountain. The moon shone bright and full, but Smith had no time to gander. He quickly scanned his surroundings for something, anything, that could be of help. He spotted an old rusty ax and just as he grabbed it, the beast slipped out of the night and darted straight for the detective. Smith got ready to strike, but it was too fast. Its talons sliced through his stomach and knocked him to the ground. But detective Smith wasn't about to go down without a fight. He was going to end this. Right here. Right now. He held off its claws with the handle of the ax, just barely avoiding getting his head plucked off by its beak. He kicked the creature in the head and scrambled away and back to his feet. And without wasting a second, with what little strength he had left, he plunged the ax into the monster.

Again

And again

And again

And again

And again until his arms were too tired to even hold it anymore. The blood of the giant crow seeped into the ground until there was none left.

As the adrenaline wore off, Smith felt a sharp pain in his stomach and only then realized his shirt and pants were drenched in his own blood. He fell to the ground and as he looked up into the night sky he felt the breath leave his lungs and his body getting colder and colder.