So you want to know how I managed to get into this line of work, killing unknown monsters and keeping them away from the general public from knowing about them? Yeah, I don't blame you.
It all started with my experience in the woods. I had a wonderful dog that I considered family, a mutt, but good dog. I arrived at my cabin in the woods of Alabama and set up shop. There was a thick layer of fog, but managed to safely get there alright. I unloaded everything from my truck and laid out and put up all our goods. Including dog food.
Now my boy Stance, my dog, would always go to his little corner of the cabin and lay on his bed while at the cabin. I decided to give him a treat and would chop up some delicious steak for him and cook it lightly just the way he likes it. I spoil that dog, but he's worth it.
I shit you not, that dog was the best tracker anyone could ask for. Screw your pure bred dogs, my mutt is super mutt. In the morning we went out for hunting and found some tracks that belonged to a hog. We tracked that bacon and carefully went about so the bushes wouldn't end up shaken and scaring the beast off.
Mid track there was a cough sound coming from the distance and Stance ran after the sound barking his head off. I couldn't keep up with my best friend, as he sped off.
I was thinking "fucking great, now I got to track my damn dog instead of the hog".
I spent hours and hours looking for Stance with no luck, and without having any catch for the day, I just headed back to the cabin where I would stay the night, waiting anxiously for Stance to come back to the cabin. He knows his way around the woods and could easily come back, he's a tracker afterall. Good damn dog.
I decided to grab a can of beans to eat for dinner and decided to sleep on the couch in case Stance returned. And wouldn't you know it, about 30 minutes passed by and there was scratching coming from the door. I zipped awake and got off the couch to let Stance in.
I put out fresh wet food and some water for Stance and slouch on the couch just happy Stance is back. However I found it odd that he wasn't eating his wet food. He loves the wet food. Maybe he ate something out while he was in the woods all day, who knows.
Well, it just goes to show that he's that good of a tracker, at least that's what I was thinking at the time. I have my dog back at the cabin so I'm safe to lay down in the bedroom.
I must be on shrooms or acid or something I thought because I woke up in the middle of the night hearing the front door to the cabin open. So I got out of bed and sought after who was breaking in. So cracked the bedroom door ever so slightly to see what's going on and I saw Stance.
That.. That fucking thing was not Stance. It's body was long stretching from the corner of the cabin with it's butt in it's bed but his head was sticking out the door, looking around in a disjointed fashion. I haven't a prayer's chance in fictional hell of getting out of this cabin with this monster here.
I carefully closed the bedroom door and waited for daylight. Upon daybreak the cabin door closed and latched, presumably by the whatever the fuck that thing was. I still don't know what it was to this day. I carefully snuck out the bedroom window leaving all my shit behind.
I sit in my truck, saddened by the fact I'm leaving Stance to whatever the fuck this monster was, but I can't wait on him. Fuck I hate this. FUCK! I start the truck and I floor it the fuck out of there.
I left my gun, non-perishable foodstuffs and everything. I consider it fair game to whatever wants it because I decided I'm not going back to that god forsaken place.
I didn't end up telling anyone about it because I didn't think anyone would believe me if I told them.
After driving all the way back home in Grant, AL, I just went home and sat on the couch where the reality of the situation finally hit me and I sobbed so hard for leaving Stance behind. Not a few minutes go by before a grinding knock is heard rapping at my door.
I look through the peephole and there stood a 7 foot tall bald viking who clearly got into a fight with a werewolf and beat it to death with his bare hands. In all seriousness it was a bald, bearded leather clad biker type of guy.
I opened the door and asked "Can I help you?"
He just gave a quick smile that vanished just as quick as it came to his face, "I suppose you could, were you at the cabin in the woods near Birmingham?"
I didn't have to say a word, he replied coyly "I ain't the men in black, but I know what you saw. I'm here to offer you a job."
I had to think on it for a few days and grieve at the same time. I wanted revenge. I contacted the biker dude once again and he welcomed me aboard before I could say anything. This is how I became a contract killer, to rid the world of monsters.
Sometimes, the things that go bump in the night? Sometimes they're real, and that's my deal, I get rid of them, so you can remain oblivious.
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