Eric Linnaeus | Book 1 | Chapter 3 - This Job Will Probably Get Me Killed (Patreon)

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟛 - 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕁𝕠𝕓 𝕎𝕚𝕝𝕝 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕪 𝔾𝕖𝕥 𝕄𝕖 𝕂𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕕ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇs ᴡᴀʟsʜ: ᴍᴀʏ, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟾.

─── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ───

When Eric said that I burst out laughing. It was an involuntary response brought on by a combination of nerves, and the genuine belief that he was messing with me to lighten the mood. However, my outburst evaporated with the look in his eyes, and I understood he wasn’t joking. “I didn’t say the term was accurate,” he stated coldly.

In our time together, I had never seen his expression change, but I could have sworn he was contemplating killing me. There was a silent fury burning there, or maybe nothing at all. Shark eyes, that’s what he had.

I coughed awkwardly and fell silent. We stayed in that clearing with the victims for a while. Eric continued whatever it was that he was doing, and I played out various scenarios of what I thought might have happened to them in my head. I pictured the group the morning before, packing up their campsite, full of joy and hope as they headed off on an unmarked trail.

Maybe they saw something of interest that lured them in that direction, or perhaps they just wanted to look at something quickly before they left. I imagined them as they came across an unknown creature in the woods, blindly tumbling through the foliage in terror as they tried to escape with low tree branches catching at their clothing and hair. I visualized their panic as they reached the river, frantically trying to decide which way to run next. One must have decided to run downstream, perhaps to deceive whatever pursued them.

Then I imagined them later in darkness, holding onto each other and desperately trying to stay quiet as they hid from the thing stalking them. It’s a primal fear; being hunted. Or perhaps they never even made it to the first night. Maybe all the terror I imagined never happened, and whatever it was that set upon them could have been so efficient that they never even had time to be afraid at all.

It began to rain, and the first drops on my skin jarred me from my nightmare reverie. It was only a light misting of water that made clothing soggy and left small droplets on leaves. This is when Eric limped back over to me, his cane sinking slightly into the damp earth as he leaned on it. “You can go back now. If you would prefer,” he offered, though it came across more as an instruction.

“It’s probably against policy to leave when there’s some man-eating animal around,” I answered glumly.

“...Perhaps,” he agreed, “Regardless, you are still welcome to leave. I don’t need you any longer.”

Looking at him now, he seemed to be entertained by my shock, and my blood pressure rose. Was this asshole implying that I leave because he thinks I can’t handle this situation? I might be new to the job, but at least I look old enough to shave. I stood and looked him square in his good eye, “I don’t need to run home, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“Very well.” It sounded like he didn’t care one way or another what I chose to do, and he moved to go.

“It’s against procedure to leave a crime scene unattended!” I called after him, utterly peeved at his nonchalant arrogance.

“So stay,” he shrugged, “My job requires that I continue on. You don’t think I was called here simply to give a nod of approval that this is a dangerous animal, now do you?”

“What exactly is your job again?” I retorted.

“To eliminate the threat.”

Frustrated, I said nothing more as I followed him into the forest. I knew this was against policy, but he was my commander for the day, and it’s procedure to follow the instructions of a direct leader. Even if his orders were vague at best. If he was following a specific trail, I couldn’t say. It was almost like accompanying a Native tracker, except they tended to at least explain what they were looking for or tracking. He walked sure in his navigation, turning at different points with no decipherable indication as to why. I began to think he was lost and just trying to keep up appearances.

I noticed then that his damaged eye seemed to be seeing, or looking? If nothing else, it was definitely reacting to the surroundings as he moved after some unseen path, and I shuddered. It was one of the creepiest things I had ever seen. It’s within all human instinct that things that look human but ‘not quite’ deeply unsettle us, and I was beginning to have my doubts about just how ‘human’ this man was. That’s not to say I believe in anything supernatural, more that I believe humanity can leave a person.

After a few hours of hiking through the woods and beating up the shrubbery, Eric stopped. He set his cane aside and, to my infinite surprise, began unbandaging his damaged arm. “What on earth are you doing?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“My job,” he replied without elaborating.

Under the bandages, his arm was… Odd. It was, I assumed, tattooed a dark purple, similar to his bad eye, and had a rough texture. There were smoother semi-translucent patches on his forearm that glinted a silvery color when they caught the sunlight as he unwove the bandage. It looked almost like writing, or at least very purposeful symbols, and I couldn't read whatever language they were in. I guessed it was Norse. Maybe?

Other than that, it looked human enough for the most part. I could see the muscles and veins down his forearm, but his fingers ended in long black claws. He flexed it casually, opening and closing his hand as if he hadn’t done so in quite some time, and I recoiled in horror. Stumbling backward, I nearly lost my balance. I couldn’t make sense of precisely what I was seeing. It looked so real.

“Scared?” he asked with a slight smile that showed the unnaturally perfect points of his canine teeth for the first time.

“T-that’s a heck of a surgery to have done,” I stammered, too shocked to think of anything else.

“A surgery? Can’t say I’ve heard that one before.”

“Are you trying to say it’s not?”

“You look pale, Charles. You should consider sitting down. I did tell you that you were welcome to remain with the corpses.” Even when he spoke now, his voice was still dull, completely devoid of emotion.

Then his attention fixed on me, and his eyes darkened, “If you’re going to shoot me, aim well. I don’t take kindly to that reaction,” he warned, and I realized then that I had unholstered my gun.

I couldn’t remember doing it. My mind was running a million miles an hour as my thoughts collected themselves, the pieces starting to fit together. Eric was too good at this. He knew which way the campers had run, he was able to follow a trail that I couldn’t even see, and he arrived so quickly at the station after being called despite obviously not being local. Plus, his body modifications were terrifying. Who in their right mind would do something like that? What good intention could that possibly have? He must be some kind of serial killer. He probably killed those campers. I bet he got off on the fear people had at seeing his appearance. He had said a ‘demon’ had done this, was he referring to himself?

I struggled to figure out some way to gain the upper hand in this situation, but he had all the advantages. Eric had led me deeper into the woods for hours; it would be dark soon, and I didn’t carry as many rounds on me as I should have. I work in a recreational park, for god's sake! I’m not supposed to need many bullets! Who would have even thought I would be sent out with a psycho killer? There was a stab of betrayal when I considered that more. Did Diane and Barrett know the truth about Eric?

Both had looked displeased to see him. Was I a sacrifice here? Were they all in on it?! My panic was interrupted by a familiar, chilling screech, the same one I had heard the night before. Only it was closer. Much closer. I realized then that Eric wasn’t even looking at me. His attention was focused on something past me. Feeling a wave of nausea, I slowly turned toward the sound. The creature that made it was crouched barely 20 feet away. It was recognizably once a bear, despite now having no face. Instead, it only had a mass of teeth that extended terrifyingly far back along its jaw with a patch of wrinkled skin on top of its snout. The space where its eyes should have been, was gone. But, despite this, it was still somehow tracking me.

The wrinkles on its head suddenly flared open, and I understood it was taking a deep breath in. It then turned its whole body towards me, focusing all its malice in my direction. On its shoulder was a burned patch through the fur down to the skin, and I recognized it to be the mirror image of the charm we had found in the clearing.

“Not going to shoot it?” Eric mocked, his voice cutting through the tension. With my new fear of this creature, I had forgotten about him. Truthfully, facing something that defied all reason unlocked a primal terror so pure that I can’t even accurately describe it. My mind struggled desperately to rationalize this thing that was absolutely nothing like anything I had ever before experienced, nor even heard of. Time slowed down, and I vividly remember the next few details.

First was how calm Eric looked. It was like he was looking at something as common as a dog. Second was that when the creature jumped at me, its entire body uncoiled horrifically. Folds of skin along its sides between its limbs flared open so that it glided clumsily on makeshift wings despite its mass. I didn’t have time to scream or raise my weapon. I was sure I was about to be dismembered by this mutant bear when, in an instant, Eric stood between the creature and myself.

He was there so fast I hadn't seen him move at all. He shoved me back hard, and I fell into the mud. My finger slipped on the trigger as I landed, and the gun went off just once. I have no idea where that shot went, but it only added to my disorientation as the sound was deafening and rang out in my ears. I fumbled on the ground, trying to recover while the scene unfolded. The creature screeched in rage and changed its direction mid-flight to redirect away from Eric as he pulled a sword from the center of his cane.

“Almost,” he muttered, sounding mildly annoyed that it avoided him. My stomach churned. Had he been using me as bait to lure it out?

He pursued it without hesitation and met the thing head-on. Its mass towered over him as it stood on its hind legs and lashed out, but he didn’t falter. He moved confidently and made short work of it, slashing through the thing at strategic points as it launched itself at him. When it bit down onto his modified arm, I thought that would be it; we would both die. Unbelievably that wasn’t the case. The teeth didn’t so much as break the skin, and the proximity allowed him to slice cleanly through the animal, if it could be called that, like a knife through butter.

Blood sprayed in all directions, covering him, me, and the surrounding vegetation while the bear-monster fell apart slowly into two separate pieces. The chunks twitched, writhing on the ground as if the thing were still alive and trying to reassemble.

In the cold air steam rose from the fresh meat, and the soft rain expanded the blood pooling exponentially. I watched, shell-shocked, as Eric moved to find the creature's shoulder. Once he did, he cut the mark off the skin before setting it alight.

The bit of flesh fizzled and squealed as it burned. It moved unnaturally, as if trying to escape the flame, but Eric stabbed the tip of the sword into it to hold it in place as it sizzled into nothing.

"W-what was, is that... Thing?” I asked when I remembered how to speak. I was sorry I had said anything at all, for when he remembered I was there, he pointed the blade at my face.

“It doesn’t matter to you, and no one will believe anything you say. So all you need to know is that it’s dead now. But, if you ever carelessly let loose a firearm around me again, I will decapitate you. Do you understand?” he muttered, rubbing the base of his ear as if it hurt.

“Yes… Sorry…”

“Good. Then, I suppose, it’s fine.” Amazingly he didn’t seem hostile, despite the threat, and when he lowered the weapon I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. He wiped the blood off it and then placed it back into hiding within the walking cane before continuing, “Are you able to stand?”

“Yes, I think so,” I murmured. I wasn’t injured, but when I tried to stand my legs gave way twice before I succeeded.

He watched me suspiciously, as if he believed I would fall again before he seemed satisfied, “Good. I want to be back before midnight.”

We fell into an uncomfortable silence, and I realized then that he still wasn’t using his cane to walk. I almost wanted to ask about it but changed my mind, asking instead, “Did you use me as bait?”

“Yes, what of it?”

I suppose that was fair, given that I had been about inclined to shoot him half an hour prior. Of course, I wanted to ask more questions. But couldn’t find the right words to form the sentences, and I followed his lead silently as we walked back to the UTV.

We stepped into the office damp from the rain, covered in blood and dirt. Sheriff Barrett looked up from his newspaper and scoffed. “Cover that thing up,” he grumbled, obviously referring to Eric’s monster arm, as he tossed him a fresh roll of bandages.

Eric caught the roll effortlessly with an amused look on his face.

“Always a warm greeting,” he commented as he began to re-wrap his limb.

“Is it alright if I put in my incident report tomorrow?” I asked, exhausted.

“No,” the Sheriff answered gruffly.

“No?” I echoed in disappointment.

“No, I don’t want to see any report on this. I don’t believe in any of that mumbo-jumbo stuff. I don’t want to hear another word on it, actually.”

“What are we supposed to tell the families?” I asked, trying to subdue the irritation in my voice. I risked my life for this assignment, and he was just going to sweep this all under the rug?

“Diane has prepared the report for you. Read it and repeat what it says if anyone asks,” he instructed.

Somehow that didn’t surprise me. I thought back to the few rare cases of massacres in the past. I couldn’t help but wonder if each was a similar situation to the one I had just experienced. It also got me thinking about if, or when, the next time another ‘incident’ would happen. Would I be able to return to my regular duties without thinking about that thing out there? About whether or not there were more of them?

It made me anxious; I never imagined I would miss how boring my job used to be. The next time a hiker disappeared, or a campsite was found abandoned, would there be a normal explanation? Or would we be calling Eric Linnaeus? I shuddered at the thought. I didn’t want to see his arm again anytime soon.

As it was, Eric left silently without any of us noticing. He vanished from our little office and melted into the darkness like a ghost. I was relieved when I noticed he had gone, but also slightly guilty.

I realized everyone probably felt that way about him: relieved when he was gone. I couldn’t imagine a man like him would have a warm family to return to; he probably just stayed in hotels or something. It seemed like his line of work, if you can even call it that, would involve a lot of travel. Maybe he would simply move on to the next call for help in facing unexplained phenomena. Even if he used me as bait, he had saved my life and probably the lives of others as well. I should have at least thanked him.

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