Chapter 434

The night had shifted in ways Grace Miller couldn't describe. It felt thick in the air, the kind of weight that made your skin crawl. The clouds above swirled like something unnatural was stirring within them.

It wasn't the normal ominous weather; this had the feel of something darker, deeper. Something far more sinister was at work here.

Morgan's Creek, the sleepy town that should've been free of such madness, now clung to a whisper of terror. Grace wasn't one for superstition, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something unnatural was creeping through the very bones of the place.

She stood in her dimly lit office, staring at the case board before her. Photographs pinned haphazardly—bloody, grotesque images of pigs, but the animals weren't simply dead. They had been mutilated, butchered in ways too grotesque to comprehend.

She'd seen a lot in her years with the department, but this? This was different. She couldn't explain it. Pigs were slaughtered—more than once—yet each time, they seemed to come back, not in their original form but transformed, monstrous versions of what they once were.

The first incident had been small, unnoticed in the larger scheme of things. A farmer found his prize pig slaughtered, its body eviscerated, left to rot. The police had written it off as the work of wild animals. But then another body was found, and then another. They all seemed too similar. Distorted pigs.

Dead, and yet alive. When their bodies returned, something was off. Eyes too wide, skin stretched too thin, jaws too elongated. Each encounter seemed to bleed into the next, one unnatural transformation after another.

Grace's stomach tightened. "This isn't right." Her words seemed to hang in the air as if they might come back to haunt her.

"Grace."

She snapped out of her thoughts and turned. Ethan was standing in the doorway, his features drawn tight. His eyes had that haunted look, the one that came after too many sleepless nights. He didn't need to say anything. The dread in his expression spoke volumes.

"It's happened again," he said, his voice grave.

Grace didn't ask where. She didn't need to. Ethan pulled out his phone and handed it to her. The screen was lit up with an image, and it was everything Grace feared.

Another of the pig-human hybrids was out in the open again. The creature stood in the center of an empty street, its body a sick parody of humanity, its skin stretched taut over its bones. The face, still too much like a pig, too much like something else, stared at the camera with those unnerving eyes. Cold. Watching. Hungry.

Grace's gut twisted. This wasn't just a string of bizarre murders. This was something far worse. This was a warning.

"Goddamn it," Grace muttered, pushing the phone back into Ethan's hand. "Why is it still happening?"

"I don't know," he replied. "But they're getting bolder. They're hunting now, Grace. It's like they know we're on their trail. And they're toying with us."

"Yeah, they're playing a fucking game." Grace's teeth clenched, her anger bubbling over. "And we're losing."

Without another word, she grabbed her jacket and the keys to the patrol car. Ethan followed her, both of them knowing that the time for talking was long gone. They needed answers. Now.

The streets outside were cold, empty. The dim streetlights cast long, jagged shadows across the cracked pavement. It felt like a town that had been abandoned for years, even though the reality was much different. People still lived here, but you wouldn't know it by the way the place seemed to sag under its own weight.

Grace pushed the accelerator down, her eyes scanning the dark streets for any sign of movement. The only sound was the soft hum of the engine and the occasional distant scrape of a branch against a wall.

Ethan spoke first, his voice rough. "Do you think it's just some... sick game? Or is there something more to this? These... things aren't just killing. They're evolving. We've never seen anything like it."

Grace didn't answer right away. She focused on the road ahead, her mind racing. "I don't know. But it's almost like they want us to come for them. The question is... why?"

She didn't finish her thought. The patrol car screeched to a halt. There, in the middle of the road, was a body. But it wasn't like any body she'd seen before. It was a pig, or what was left of one. But this was different. The body was twisted, like a mockery of the creature it had once been. Its legs bent the wrong way, the eyes too wide, the skin stretched far too tight.

Grace's stomach lurched. "Shit," she muttered. "This is it. It's here."

Ethan was out of the car before she could even finish the sentence. He rushed to the body, his flashlight sweeping over the scene. Grace followed, forcing herself not to flinch as the stench of death hit her full force.

The pig's body twitched as if it were still alive, and Grace's heart skipped a beat. Her hand went instinctively to her holster, but she knew her gun wouldn't help here. It never had.

Ethan bent down, inspecting the creature, but before he could say anything, the body lurched forward, its head snapping up to look at them. The eyes were no longer vacant. They were alive. Alive with something terrible.

"Run!" Ethan shouted, his voice sharp.

But Grace was already in motion, grabbing Ethan's arm and pulling him backward. The thing—this abomination—lunged forward with a terrifying speed. Its mouth opened, but there was no human scream. Just a guttural, guttural noise that made Grace's blood freeze.

Ethan managed to break free from her grasp and dove to the side. The creature missed, its claws scraping along the concrete with a screeching noise.

"Get down!" Grace shouted, pushing him to the ground as the creature whirled around for another strike.

The next few moments were a blur. The creature wasn't acting like a regular animal—it was intelligent, too intelligent. It circled, its eyes scanning them, waiting for an opening. It wasn't just attacking—it was hunting them. And it wouldn't stop until it caught them.

Grace scrambled to her feet, her mind racing. She had to stop it. This couldn't go on. Whatever this thing was, it wasn't just some mutated animal. It was something far more dangerous.

Her eyes scanned the area, looking for anything she could use. Her breath came in short gasps, her pulse pounding in her ears. She spotted a bottle—broken glass—but it was something. Without thinking, she grabbed it, holding it up like a weapon.

But before she could do anything, the creature lunged again, its jaws snapping at her.

Ethan fired his gun, the sound of the shots ringing out, but it barely fazed the creature. It just kept coming.

Grace had no choice. She had to do something. Anything.

She ran at the creature, desperate. Her breath was ragged as she shoved the bottle into its mouth, forcing it open. There was a brief moment of resistance before the creature collapsed back, stunned. It was enough. For now.

"We need to get out of here," Grace said, panting. She pulled Ethan to his feet, half-dragging him toward the car. "We can't fight it here. We need to figure out what the hell is going on."

Ethan nodded, his face pale. They both knew they couldn't outrun whatever this thing was, not on foot. They had to go back to the church. That's where it all started. Maybe, just maybe, it was where they could end it.

They sped down the street, their car barreling toward the old church that sat at the edge of town. It had been abandoned for years, but there was something about it. Something that felt like it was connected to all of this.

As they pulled up in front of the church, Grace felt a chill creep up her spine. The doors of the church were wide open, but there was no sound. No movement.

"We've got company," Ethan said quietly, his hand resting on his holster. His eyes were scanning the dark interior of the church. "Let's not make this easy for them."

Grace nodded. They couldn't afford to take any chances now. Not when they were this close.

The air inside the church was stale, thick with the smell of mildew. The place felt abandoned, yet it also felt... watched. The floor creaked under their feet as they stepped inside. A flickering light caught Grace's attention, drawing her gaze toward the altar. There, in the shadows, something was moving.

Her heart skipped a beat. The man was back. The one she had seen in the photographs. The one who seemed to control all of this.

"You've come," the man hissed, his voice like a rasp. He was hunched over, his face twisted in a way that no human face should be. "Too late."

The church began to feel smaller, suffocating. The air grew thicker, more oppressive. The pigs, their heads hanging from the rafters like grotesque trophies, watched from above. Grace's skin crawled.

"This ends now," she said, more to herself than to the man.

The ground trembled beneath their feet as the pigs' heads began to twitch, their eyes snapping open, and their bodies followed suit. A terrible screech echoed through the building, and the creatures that had once been pigs began to move.

But Grace was ready. They all were. The time for running had passed.

The final battle was coming.