My trail has gone cold, the Keeper is either gone or staying real quiet for the moment. I feel like I’m close, the pain in my sinus getting more sharp as I move through the city.This may not be my white whale however, I’ve come across others, and have been disappointed over and over again.

Theres rumor of a spook haunting in some water logged cave out in the boonies according to the forums. This isn’t my game, but if their is some ghost laden shit hole in the ground it’s probably worth checking out. There is a kinship between my target and the dead, knowing more about them will only help me move forward.

I’m not quite sure about all this. First some secret agent shit with a computer nerd, then a down-low meet n greet in the warehouse district, now a search and rescue mission in Bugtussle, MI. The funding is mediocre, but most of us seem to have the gear we need. The crew I’m with is quite the mixed bag. At least we have some competence with Anton and Jim. We’ll see how the others pan out. I’m concerned about Drew. If he can’t pull his shit together we might be in trouble. I haven’t quite figured out what his place in the crew is yet. “Driver” it ain’t.

We have seen only glimpses of the bad guys and it doesn’t look good. Found a van that belonged to our Lost. Gear still mostly intact, indications of injury, no bodies. We’ve found several tunnels. Who knows what dug them. Our investigation had led us to believe that the Lost have been taken into those tunnels. I know following the bad guys into their den is a bad idea, but it’s the only lead we have…

We aren’t yet the wolves I had hoped. We have the fang and claw but do not work as pack. Yet. Some are new to this, to danger of death. It is familiar to me. I know it, from the old country. I can tell that Aaron and Jim are not new to it. The others, they are. They do knot know what it is to live under fear of death from time of waking to time of sleeping. If they survive, they will get harder. It becomes the normal. Drew woke up loud last night, with a scream. He had nightmare. The man with all the guns is nervous type. He drove too fast last night, got scared. I am hoping that they do not run away when time comes to fight. That we can not afford. There are six of us. The computer woman says that three figures are seen in one of the videos. We have number advantage if this is right, but we can not be sure. We are staring down hole, while everyone sits and thinks what they are doing here. No one wants to be the first in, no one wants to get stuck with whatever is inside. We will go, we will see what it is. And we will kill it. I hope that the reporter is still alive. But, if nothing else, we will do good work by destroying whatever monster is in the hole. I will say prayer for us, before we go in. I have much penance to do before I am done, and many more things to do that will need more penance.

Now it’s personal.

Last night, my partner Mark and I got a call to respond to an injury related to an animal bite at a camp ground in a rather remote area, north of Minneapolis. The dispatcher couldn’t provide any further information but said she heard a dog barking it’s head off in the background, so we treated it as low-risk call. Per usual, we beat the responding police officer to the scene. He must have been asleep in a parking garage somewhere.

It was strange. Usually when we show up, there are bystanders or relations of the victim standing around or waving us in, but there wasn’t anyone in sight. We found the right campsite (it was the only one occupied) and got out to assess the situation. Two cars parked in in the gravel area, two tents set up, a campfire burning with camp chairs set up around it…no people. Hell, there wasn’t even a cricket chirping. Mark called out for the victim, but we got no response. There was a dog leash attached to the bumper of on of the cars, but no dog… or snap for that matter, just a frayed end. On the ground in front of one of the camp chairs was an open cell phone.

Thats when I noticed the tracks. In the dirt next to the campfire were what appeared to be a persons bare footprints… if that person wore a size 20 shoe and had … talons. I pulled out my flashlight and looked closer. As soon as I illuminated the grass I found the blood. It takes an awful lot of liquid to saturate ground, and this ground looked like a maroon swamp. Mark and I looked at one another, turned and hauled ass back to the ambulance. He isn’t nearly as fast as I am and, I’m ashamed to say, I wasn’t waiting for him either. As I rounded the driver’s side, I heard a rush of wind, then a startled gasp from Mark… and then he was screaming, high pitched and piercing. Before I could get back around the side of the bus, the volume of his scream was changing, moving back toward the wood line to the east. Still, I was moving…

I can still see his face in my mind. His eyes were locked to mine, terrified, pleading. His face was distorted in pain and fear. He was draped over the shoulder of… some … thing, trying with all his might to wrest himself from it’s grasp. The thing was the shape of a man, but half again as tall, pale skinned and hairless. It must have been immeasurably strong to run carrying Mark like that. It made no sound at all as it rushed toward the trees. Just before it entered the trees, it turned and looked at me. That face… those eyes… My skin crawled and I felt a wave of pure malice wash over me… Then it was gone. That was the last time I ever saw Mark Smith alive.

I’ll tell you right now, I locked my self in that ambulance, put out an OH FUCK call on the radio and hunkered down to wait for the cavalry to come rescue me. They found Mark early the next morning in a small clearing in the woods about a mile from the campsite. Rather, they found what was left of him… Mostly his head was intact. That was about it. The rest had been… chewed on… like a drumstick.

Mark was my friend. We drank beer and chased girls together off duty. Hell, I used to date his sister and for a while it looked like we were going to be brothers in law. Mark deserved better than that. I have seen men die in the chaos of combat. I have never seen anything that approaches the level of horror and helplessness I saw on his face. It hasn’t been that long since I wore the uniform. I still have the skills, still have some gear. I can get the rest, they pay me pretty good here.

Whatever that thing was, it better have it’s affairs in order. It won’t be the first thing I’ve killed, or the last, but it’s going to be the next…

I don’t understand it. I have been involved in emergency medicine for years now, in every place from Kabul to Baghdad to East Minneapolis. I have never before seen the types of injuries and deaths that I’ve been seeing in the past 18 months. People with arms and legs ripped off. Corpses that are little more than lifeless husks, almost completely devoid of tissue and fluid. Yesterday, my bus responded to a suspicious death scene where the body was totally devoid of blood. Complete exsanguination should be impossible produce in a person. Even traumatic amputation leaves you a little blood. And the bites. I saw a teenager on an overlook the other day that had a bite taken out of his side you’d have though was made by Jaws. I have heard stories about the occasional bear coming into town and I have even been to a death scene where a bear attacked a hiker. I know what the bite marks look like and there aren’t any natural predators round these parts capable of inflicting bigger ones. Natural predators… So, here I am. There are things going on around here that defy my ability to explain. I am not stupid. When you rule out all other possible explanations, you are left with the answer, no matter how unlikely. I think there are monsters, and not the human kind. I’m scared. I am preparing for a fight. Fighting is something I know a bit about. Is there anyone else out there? Anyone else come to this same conclusion and can shed some light on all this? Tell me I’m not crazy…