The room was dim, lit only by a single lantern resting at the centre of the wooden table. Its weak glow pushed the shadows back just enough to reveal the four figures seated around it.
The cabin itself was old.
The wood creaked occasionally, and the wind slipped through the thin gaps in the walls, but none of them seemed bothered by it.
Silence filled the room.
The man at the head of the table traced the rim of his glass slowly with one finger, the faint sound of it scratching against the surface breaking the silence.
"Sometimes, when I say things," he said calmly. "You all always think I'm trying to restrict you, but instead I'm just trying to be careful."
A woman scoffed, her eyes rolling at his remark. "You always say we're reckless, but no one knows what's happening?"
"Really now?" The man replied as he pushed an object across the table. It landed right in front of the woman—a newspaper that had the words boldly printed: DEAD AND MISSING AGAIN!!!
"We need to be careful." The man glanced at the three of them. "Don't let greed or arrogance ruin the plan now. We have been planning this for so long; don't let it be in vain."
The third figure—a man—laughed so loud, the sound echoing in the cabin. He stared daggers at the head, his voice stern. "What do you mean 'we need to be careful'?" He stretched out his arms. "They are beneath us; should we be scared of termites? Or have you been hiding for so long that you have forgotten your identity?"
His statement earned a nod in agreement from the lady. The head man glanced at the last member—a woman youthful in her appearance, a contrast to the older figures they are. She maintained a neutral expression, like she wasn't interested in the conversation.
The head man glanced back at the remaining two, folding his arms on the table. "Are you two questioning my authority?" His voice dropped low, a deathly aura emitting from him. "Or do you really want to remember what my identity is?"
The figures didn't respond, as they were overwhelmed by the pressure of his deathly aura. They bowed their heads as they muttered a barely audible "Apologies, I overstepped my boundaries."
"Well, I don't know about you, but I've been doing a bit of digging." The youthful woman finally spoke, ignoring the display of dominance in front of her. "My little birds sang a melody to me recently; they said the church had deployed someone to come investigate."
"Do you have any idea who it is?" The head man asked as he faced her, turning off his aura. "Is it someone you have heard of?"
"No, not really." She replied with a smile. "To be honest, I find it a bit funny, but I heard it's a child. 'A prodigy', they called him."
"A child? Are humans really mad?" The second man cackled, acting like he wasn't just a coward five seconds ago. "So they send a mere child to fight us?"
"Don't underestimate the boy now; I've heard he's quite the prodigy." The woman still maintained her smile. "They said he's got something called the 'eyes' and 'rod' of God. I don't know how true that is, but he might be worth the hype if the church sent him here."
"Eyes and rod? You have to be shitting me." The second man laughed, pointing to himself. "I bet you the boy would tuck his tail and run, crying for help or their parents, just like they all do before they're devoured."
The head man was silent, processing it all. He glanced at the three of them, his tone firm. "Regardless of whether the humans are panicking or not, we still have to be careful. Let's first complete what needs to be done before we get drunk from the cup of pleasure."
"Keep me updated concerning this human child." He glanced at the youthful lady, who gave a slight nod. "The rest of you, please don't act foolish."
And with that, the light went out, and darkness was made whole.
****
The hallway outside the mayor's office was quiet.
Too quiet.
Zaza sat quietly on a wooden chair against the wall. Between his legs was a long black bag—clearly shaped for something that wasn't exactly ordinary.
Inside the mayor's office, muffled voices leaked through the door.
"....I'm telling you, this is ridiculous."
The voice sounded sharp and frustrated, and it had been going on for the past five minutes that he had been waiting.
"Do you reckon it's us they are talking about?" Constantine asked, grinning with energy that shouldn't be there for someone who drove over seven hours.
"Maybe, maybe not," Zaza replied. "This sort of thing isn't new to me."
"Well, they should hurry up. I'm famished." Constantine yawned. "I used up all my energy singing pretty little baby."
"Do you have an idea of what's causing the killings and missing of people?" Zaza suddenly asked.
Constantine's face suddenly became grim, like Zaza had flipped a switch. "I don't know, Za; it might be a person who is insane or possessed. It could be an animal."
"What of monsters?" Zaza responded.
"Monsters?" Constantine replied, raising an eyebrow. "What do you mean—"
"Monsters, freaks, outcasts," Zaza faced him. "Whatever they are being called here, they could be a suspect."
"It would be best if you used a softer approach towards that." Constantine replied, scratching the back of his neck. "We're not really in a friendly town."
"What do you mean?"
"Not an insult, but from these people's perspective, you're basically one of those suspects."
Zaza paused, processing his words, but before he could respond, the secretary down the hall approached them.
"You can go in now," she said.
Constantine shot up to his feet, dusting off his thighs. "Finally." He couldn't help but say as he opened the door.
The office was spacious, sunlight spilling through the windows behind the large wooden desk. Two men were seated, Mayor Walker and Sheriff Donovan Galpin.
Both of them looked up the moment Constantine entered. "Good day, gentlemen." Constantine flashed a friendly smile while giving a casual wave.
Mayor Walker straightened slightly, giving a slight nod. Donovan looked Constantine up and down for a moment.
"You're the one the church sent?" He asked, his eyebrow arched.
"Yeah, I mean... yes?" Constantine glanced down at his outfit. It should be obvious he thought, since he had dressed in his priestly robes.
"Let me guess." Donovan crossed his arms, unimpressed. "You're the prodigy?"
"Well," Constantine smiled, shrugging lightly. "I am pretty talented."
"We were expecting you anytime; glad to see you came as fast as possible." Mayor Walker got up, closing the distance as he stretched his hand out for a shake. "I'm Mayor Walker; this here is Sheriff Donovan."
"Nice to meet you to get help on this case." Donovan gave the pleasantries even though he didn't want to. "For a veteran, you look quite young."
"That's flattering." Constantine glanced at the men. "And also majorly incorrect."
Before the men could question, he stepped aside, revealing a boy with white hair and golden eyes stepping inside the office.
"This is your prodigy." Constantine winked as he shook Mayor Walker's hand. "Nice to meet you, though."
There was an awkward silence as Mayor Walker and Donovan exchanged glances. Zaza, who was clearly not bothered at all, cleared his throat. "Good day, Mayor Walker, I'm Zaza. I was sent by the church to investigate the killing and missing residents."
"Y-yes, nice to meet you." Mayor Walker replied, the shock still visible. "You're not really what I was expecting; you're quite young."
Zaza just nodded in response before turning to the Sheriff, who had an unpleasant look on his face.
"So a kid was sent to investigate here," Donovan said, his voice not exactly friendly, sizing him up. "You look like the same age as my boy."
But that was pure Donovan Galpin; he would say what was in my mind and guts. Even though at times, it would earn a stern look from his superior.
'Oh, he's one of those types of people.' Zaza thought to himself as he saw the golden badge that indicated he was the sheriff. He turned back to Mayor Walker, who had regained composure. "I'd like to see the scenes, if possible."
****
The forest outside Jericho was dense.
Tall trees crowded together, their branches forming a thick canopy that swallowed most of the sunlight. The deeper they walked, the quieter it became, until the only sounds were the crunch of leaves beneath their feet and the distant call of birds.
Fallen needles crunched underfoot, and the air carried the sharp bite of sap mixed with something metallic—old blood, perhaps, or just the town's growing unease.
Sheriff Donovan Galpin walked ahead of them, pushing aside a branch as he led the way down a narrow trail. Constantine followed behind him with his hands tucked into his coat pockets while Zaza trailed behind.
Donovan slowed slightly as they reached a small clearing. "This is where we found the last body," he said, stopping near a patch of disturbed ground.
The area had already been marked with a few small flags at irregular intervals and police tape tied loosely between trees.
Constantine glanced around casually. "Messy," he muttered.
And it was really messy.
The earth was churned into dark, slick mud in wide, overlapping patches. Blood had soaked in deep, turning the topsoil glossy where it hadn't dried. Streaks of crimson fanned out in high arcs across the trees and fallen leaves.
Nearby, a log that served as a bench was spattered with drying droplets. Claw-like gouges scarred the bark of the nearest tree, having a smear of blood that ran down the trunk in a hand-shaped streak.
Constantine crouched near the largest bloodstain, studying the pattern without touching. "Animal?" he asked quietly.
"Maybe," Donovan shrugged lightly. "That's what the wildlife department thinks."
"What do you think?" Constantine asked.
"One of those abnormal freaks," Donovan spat. "Strategically hunted each one after the other, almost making sure nothing walked away. They were having some sort of party until this happened."
"You're sure it's not some wild animal?" Constantine straightened with a slightly groan. "This is the woods after all."
"What do you think?" Donovan frowned at Zaza."Or are you just going to stare at the woods."
Zaza didn't answer, he walked further into the clearing before stopping. He slowly turned towards the darker part of the forest.
"Something was here." He muttered.
"No shit." Donovan crossed his arms. "That's why we call it a crime scene."
"No, something was here and it wasn't an animal." Zaza replied, his fingers tracing the claw marks. "If it was a mere animal, we won't be called here."
He glanced at the sheriff, ignoring his irritated look. "I'm guessing there's a survivor right?"
Donovan nodded. "Yes but she wouldn't open up. The parents said we would need to give her more time."
"We could be dealing with some sort of monster or witchcraft." Zaza lowered his hand. "Patience isn't a virtue we can afford right now."