BloodFang

[ItsFulgrim]

Spring had finally arrived, shaking off the eerie remnants of winter with its crisp, chilled winds. The biting cold no longer echoed through the trees. Instead, the air carried the perfume of fresh flora, and the rhythmic songs of birds perched high in the branches. Peace had returned to the woods, drawing visitors from all corners of the country. Each came for different reasons, some to hunt, some to camp, others merely seeking the simple pleasure of a nature walk.

But tonight, the forest rangers faced something far graver than an untended fire or a lost hiker.

Jeremiah Sanders, veteran ranger of Fire Tower 5, had left his post in the dead of night after reporting screams deep within the forest. He was no rookie. The years had hardened him, carved instincts sharper than most. Suggestions that the cries were nothing more than a mountain lion or some stray wild animal held no weight. Sanders knew better, to his own doom.

He searched, combing the darkened trees for hours, long enough for the stars to trade places, long enough for exhaustion to gnaw at his bones. Then, as the first glow of dawn shined in the horizon, his frantic voice rang through the radio, calling for help. A desperate plea, cut short.

When they found him, they found the camper too, the one screaming for help. But neither had been left in one piece.

The scene was something beyond description, the kind of horror that made stomachs turn and voices falter. The gore was too vile for words, so instead, the rangers called for their own help. Whatever was out there, whatever had done this, was not an animal.


-


Hours later, the Chief had secured the area. No hikers, no interference. Nothing had been touched. Now, in the quiet confines of her office, she sat across from the one person she could trust to lead the investigation through the forest.

The kid looked like a younger version of herself, sharp eyes, determined posture. She stared at him, cool and unreadable, a silent warning in her gaze.

"You understand your assignment, yes?" Her voice carried a firm edge, respectful but firm. "No heroics. No talking more than needed. No opinions unless asked. And for the love of the Almighty in Heaven, absolutely none of that ghost nonsense. Is that clear, kid?"

The young man nodded, hazel curls swaying with the motion. "Crystal clear, ma’am. But, if I may, I do have a few questions."

She sighed, arms crossed, already knowing where this was going. "Go ahead."

"You saw the scene, right? I mean, is it really that far off to think it might be something... Supernatural?"

The Chief closed her eyes for a brief moment, as if asking for patience from forces beyond her control. Then, she exhaled sharply.

"Jesus Christ, give me a patience and not strength-" She said, on the edge of anger. "Listen. We don't have time for paranoia right now, and I assure you, the investigator will have even less time for it. Ghost stories are just that- Stories. I know you're trying to help. God knows I trust you, kid. But this? This crosses a line. Respect old Sanders' memory. Let the cop do the thinking. Your job is to guide them through the forest, make sure they don't get lost. That's it."

Her fingers resumed their quiet rhythm against the keyboard, typing up reports with delicate precision. The office sat in thick silence, save for the occasional sigh from the Chief. The young man mirrored her previous posture, arms crossed, waiting.

Waiting, for this investigator to arrive, trying his best not to let anxiety win him over, an easy task, probably.

 

[illirica]

There really was nothing out here.

There was the murder, of course. That was the whole reason that Amy Lopez had come out this way, but the drive down had been quiet and filled with nothing but trees and more trees. She wasn't sure if she liked it or not. She was a city girl; born and raised there, her family history a multi-generational melting pot that left her with one of those hard-to-place appearances that people would assume meant something based more on them than her, and killer recipes for fried chicken, pasilla mole, and marinara sauce. Black hair with a wave to it that curled more when it got humid, deep brown eyes, a complexion that was too browned to be just suntanned. Like a lot of people, she probably could have been stunning with the right clothes and the right cosmetics, but Amy preferred to invest her efforts elsewhere, which was why her hair was back in a ponytail and she was in uniform.

She had a murder to think about, after all, or a few of them. For a place with nothing going on, someone certainly was getting up to something. It wasn't her first murder, or even her second, or third - she'd been a police detective for a while now. Sometimes she got surprised when they called length-of-service out and she realized how long - but she'd done Criminal Justice at community college and gone right into the force at twenty, and now she was thirty-one and her dear grandma routinely despaired of her ever finding a husband and continuing the family line. Since Amy had four siblings and eighteen cousins on that side alone, she wasn't particularly worried about the issue, herself.

She was married to the job, and she knew it even if her grandma wouldn't admit it just yet. The force knew it too, which was why she was out here - if she was going to get tapped for more promotions at this point, she needed to diversify her experiences, and that meant taking on some cases outside of the usual things that cropped up in the city. When the little town had called this one in for help from the city, she'd gotten tapped to go out there and do something about it.

Amy probably should have had a partner with her, but the whole force was short-staffed and it wasn't like the victims were going to get any more deceased at this point. They'd assigned her someone to work with from the town - forest ranger, she'd heard. Someone who knew their way around the place. It'd be good to have a local guide, but she didn't know if this person was going to know anything about not contaminating the scene, so they'd undoubtedly have to set a few ground rules.

At least it wasn't too hard to find the building. There weren't exactly a plethora of them to choose from. She parked the car and got out, squinting against the sunlight, then went inside to the blast of air conditioning, finding her way to the right room by the simple expedient of asking, and tapping on the door frame as she entered.

"Hi. I'm Detective Lopez."

 

[ItsFulgrim]

The Chief stood from her desk with deliberate care, gingerly adjusting the position of her badge before saluting the detective with a respectful nod, a force of habit rather than genuine knowledge of the other woman’s rank.

"I am Melody Williams, Chief Ranger of this zone. Please, take a seat." She gestured to the empty chair across from her, voice measured but firm. "This here is my trainee, Jasper Lanes."

With introductions complete, Williams sank back into her chair, her movements precise, controlled. She retrieved several thick files from her desk, setting them down in front of the two, angled mostly toward Lopez, who would be leading the case. The documents bore signs of hasty organization: clipped reports, printed photographs, which were not particularly well taken and barely showed the actual scene, and statements from the witnesses, the rangers who found Sanders. All the evidence that they could gather without touching the scene.

"I have much to go over, given the recent events." She continued, her tone crisp, treating this more as business than a tragic event. "Lanes will assist you however he can. He’ll provide a breakdown of what our... Let’s say, untrained eyes, managed to observe before we closed off the scene. It’s secured, and we’ve stationed other rangers to maintain the perimeter, so you won’t have any trouble with unwanted spectators."

Her sharp gaze flicked to Jasper, a silent reinforcement of his responsibilities. He sat straighter, the unspoken reminder landing with its intended weight.


"The sooner we resolve this, the better. I trust you agree."

With that, she dispatched them. The attack had occurred far from the designated trails, deep in the wilderness where vehicles were impractical. The only way forward was on foot. Jasper took the lead, guiding the investigator toward a nearby shed where supplies were stored, a necessary precaution for the long trek ahead. If night fell before they reached their destination, wandering blindly through the terrain was out of the question. Unless they wished the possibility of ending up like Sanders.

Camping gear was essential.

"Here." Jasper handed over a large backpack, his movements delicate, almost timid. "It’s a long way to Thunder Creek. Going downhill, we’ll make it before evening. Coming back uphill? That’s another story." He adjusted the straps on his own pack, ensuring everything was secure. "There’s a chance we’ll need to stop at Fire Tower 5. It’s unoccupied for now, and it’s about halfway to the mark."

He ran through the essentials: A fire starter kit, flashlight... And a careful selection of provisions. He kept his explanations light. No need to overwhelm the investigator with an exhaustive list of supplies. If she was inexperienced with hiking, frequent stops would be necessary. He had already redistributed the heavier equipment to his own pack, sparing her from carrying the bulk of it. Thoughtful as always.

"So." He glanced at her as he zipped the pack back up, eager to fill the silence. "Investigator, huh? Didn’t know you guys came into forests when things went south. Been in the forces long?"

It wasn’t long before he added another remark, already showing that he was the talkative kind.

"I’m not judging your attire, but- If I were you, I’d swap it out for something more practical. There are spare uniforms in the back. You might find something in your size. A good moisture-wicking shirt and some proper boots will do you favors out here..." He quickly corrected himself, not trying to sound as if he was giving orders. "Unless you’re more comfortable in your own gear, of course. No judgment."

 

[illirica]

Williams seemed like the sort of woman who was on top of things. She had the mark of someone who kept track of a lot of information, probably mostly in her head, with printouts for backup and the sake of other people. They were good printouts, Amy thought. She could respect that.

The young man she was being paired up with was new - some might have seen that as a disadvantage, but Amy had a sneaking suspicion that Williams had done it on purpose so that the kid wouldn't be trying to take over the investigation. She appreciated it - the last thing she needed was someone who thought they knew better screwing up the procedure. As long as the kid was competent with the area, that was good enough for her - and if he was a local, as she suspected, he'd probably have plenty of experience running around the woods even before he'd signed on as a ranger.

Amy looked up from the documents for a moment when the other woman mentioned having the place locked off, with an appreciative nod for the effort. Cordoning off the place where things had gone wrong was one of the most important first steps, otherwise everyone and their mother wanted to wander in and see what happened for themselves. "Thanks. Investigation isn't a spectator sport."

Williams also didn't hold them back for useless staff meetings. Sometimes meeting people was important, but in a situation like this, getting to the scene quickly was critical; getting introduced to everyone out here much less so. Amy followed the kid - Lanes - out towards the storage shed, taking the pack he handed her and setting it on the ground, opening it up and looking through it. It seemed pretty good, likely a standard kit that they kept packed for anyone who might need to grab one. That would make sense. He'd taken on a lot more weight, but if he was willing to do it, Amy was going to let him. If he looked like he was flagging, she'd have him hand something over.

"I've been in the force for eleven years," she answered the question. "And we don't usually come out this way, but my supervisor knows I'm looking for more experience, broadening my horizons, that sort of thing." If he put two and two together and figured out that meant shooting for a promotion, good for him, but if not, it wasn't like it mattered all that much at the current point in time.

"I have my own civvies to change into, don't worry." It was more urban than hiking focused, but there seemed to be a decent amount of overlap at least until one got to the professional level, Amy noticed. Still, cargo pants, good socks, good boots, moisture-wicking shirts and layered jackets were a decent start in most places, and she'd wanted to make sure she had something that fit her properly. "Uniforms are good for talking to people, but not as much for traipsing around the woods. Although, they're more practical than you'd think." Officers did have to be in them all day and be able to move pretty well, but still. As long as she had her badge with her, the rest was just window dressing.

Amy took a moment to go back to her car and pick up a few things she wanted to add to the pack - extra hairties, because she always needed them and sometimes people didn't think to pack them, some extra socks and underthings out of her own pack before she got changed, meeting up with Lanes again after calling back to the station and letting them know she'd made it here and what the plan was - it was important to make updates, especially because Amy suspected that the phone signal out there might be in the bad-to-nonexistent category, and she needed the force to know where she was.

Hopefully Lanes had made good use of his time - or maybe he'd just read a book for half an hour, who knew? She adjusted the pack until the straps felt right, keeping the weight up on her shoulders and not down on her back.

"Have you been out at the scene already?"

 

[ItsFulgrim]

Lanes listened closely, absorbing every word with keen interest. He would be lying if he claimed that forensic science wasn't something that fascinated him immensely. True crime podcasts, TV dramas- They scratched the surface but never quite captured the raw reality of being on the ground, seeing it unfold firsthand. The idea of working alongside someone with experience, someone who had walked through crime scenes instead of just reading about them, was invigorating.

The half-hour she was gone wasn’t spent idly. It was filled with a mix of jittery preparation and rational caution.

Checking, rechecking, and checking again. Securing supplies for the most part. He ensured everything was charged properly, double-checked their water bottles, and even added a few portable water filters to their stash. No precaution was too excessive. If they failed to reach a reliable water source on the way back, he wasn’t about to gamble with whatever was in the wilderness. Pathogens were an invisible but lethal threat, and he’d rather be overprepared than reckless.


By the time Amy returned, Lanes had adjusted his hat and secured his bag, making certain that nothing would come loose along the way. His pace remained steady, not too fast, not too slow, keeping her position in mind. The weather was holding for now, the trails still open. It was the right time to begin.

At her question, his shoulders shifted instinctively, a reflexive rise, not out of defense toward her, but toward the memories that filled him with unease.

“Yeah- Me an’ a couple of rangers were out looking for Sanders early this morning. I was the second one to see him.”

His exhale was sharp, edged with something more than exertion. Awkward. Heavy.

“He was real close to the lost camper, you probably saw that in the report. Something ambushed them.” He paused, weighing his words before continuing. “Bear attack. That’s the official line. That’s what most of the others are saying.” His gaze flickered, cautious. “But Chief and I… we don’t buy it. That was no bear... That's why you're here..”

A beat of silence, then his voice dipped lower, more measured.

“But I don’t wanna derail the investigation with my own theories. It’s better if you take a look at it yourself.”

He let the quiet settle after that, longer than was comfortable, reminding himself to stick to Williams’ instructions.


By noon, they had already passed Fire Tower 5. Jasper saw no reason to make a lengthy stop there today. Instead, he opted for brief pauses along the way, strategically using their energy rather than draining it all at once with a long trip and long pause.

His radio buzzed to life, breaking through the relative stillness. A gruff, older voice cut through the static.

“Here, Raptor on 3. Any updates on the issue? Over.”

A second transmission followed, layered with background noise and faint voices.

“Here, Cedarwind. Wildfern and Ironwood are with me at the scene. Had some hikers too close to the zone- Redirected already. Over.”

Jasper keyed in his own response.

“Here, Evergreen, past 5, coming close to the zone. Appreciate the assist. Over.”

The walk stretched a little further, the weight of the coming scene hanging in the air. By the time lunch hour rolled in, they had reached their destination.

But appetite had no place here.

The restricted area was sizable, larger than would likely be expected. Rangers moved with purpose, maintaining control, ensuring no civilians wandered in. The span of the closed-off space told them one crucial thing: evidence had been found.

And it wasn’t clean.

It wasn’t contained.

It was scattered.

Grizzly.

-

(TW: Description of a murder scene, medical terms, light gore.)

The scene was far from pretty, or normal for that matter. One part of the scene was not entirely recognizable; trails of gore placed around the zone where a clear struggle had happened. Gashes on trees, broken pieces of bark, bushes and plants trampled around the space, particularly close to the two bodies left behind. The first, was a pile of bones and flesh, reminiscent of what a predator would leave behind after a meal, making use of all what they could feed before leaving what may have resisted up for scavengers, and yet, there was a malicious intent behind this. The skull had been propped up on another bone, which was firmly planted into the ground, as if mocking, or taunting, leaving a mark for whoever found it. It showed a clear sentience behind the murder.

The second one, clearly Sanders based on the uniform, was more complete.

The body presented severe damage, there were multiple fragmentary fractures of the facial skeleton, as well as the sides of the skull, as if he had been battered violently. Not to mention the damage to his arms and hands. He tried to fight whoever the attacker was, evident in the slashes and broken falanges. A few ribs had taken a toll too, had Sanders survived the encounter, the punctures of the latter would've left him helpless regardless. He looked as if he had been trampled on top of being mauled.

Lastly, the most important clue according to Jasper, though he did not speak it out loud, where the marks on the top of the scalp. several marks were indented there, as if whatever had taken him... Had attempted to crack open his cranium. Teeth, to the unaware eye. But if the right tests were done, it was rather obvious.

Those were the marks of fingers.