1 Prologue

Stumbling over their feet on the sidewalk, the earlier memories of the night were gone as they bellowed out laughter for no reason, thinking everything was funny. They made their way down the street, the colorful lights of the fair rides began turning off and only the pale street lamps were seen in the pitch-black night. There was no moonlight to illuminate the alleyways that are full of homeless people, sleeping in flimsy cardboard boxes as an attempt to shelter themselves. There was nothing to reveal hidden threats that lurked in the shadows as a pair of eyes watched them. Stalking them in silence as distant vehicles zoom by and drowned out their mumbling voices, the scent of alcohol reeked on their breath. Piling into the back of a dark blue cargo van, the predator made its move once they were all inside.

"Bro, you had some fucking balls earlier," Carlos was the first to bring up the event while sitting on the brick colored, carpeted floor. It had stains from God knows what, and the smell. The smell was noxious, fumes from the exhaust leaked into the cab every time it ran, masking the strong aroma of weed and other odors.

"You wouldn't catch me dead staring down a Demon in the eyes, they could fucking kill you at any moment,"

"Yeah, well, you guys are nothing but pussies! I could've taken him," Lucas gloated while rolling a joint for them to share. His friends just nodded in agreement to his false assumption,

"What? You guys don't think I could?" Lucas pointed a swaying finger at them and nearly threw the lighter from his hand.

"Dude, he was twice the fucking size of us! We wouldn't be able to slow him down even with all three of us on his back, we're lucky he listened to the bartender. I didn't plan on getting any broken bones tonight," Noah, the smaller of them spoke with a deep, fearful tone despite being intoxicated.

Lucas huffed and lit the joint, taking a deep breath of the drug before reaching over to pass it off. When leaned over he coughed up blood and there was a sudden pain in his chest. Gazing up at his friends only to see pure horror etched into their features. He didn't understand and turned his attention downwards to see a fist protruded out of his ribcage. Blood soaked claws had penetrated through his chest and was the last thing he saw as the screams of his mates faded away. Lucas's body slid to the floor as blood poured onto the carpet, soaking up the liquid as it spread towards them. They scrambled for the van door but, it opened before they had a chance to grab the handle and there, stood blocking their escape, someone made from nightmares.

Its smile was disturbing with teeth so straight and perfect that the symmetry brought no relief. It blocked their only exit, two pitch black objects creeped from its back, the ragged feathered wings sucked their hope of living from their souls. Leaving nothing except empty flesh bags ready to be slaughtered by the Angel of Death. Trembling uncontrollably, they sat and watched as it entered the van and closed the doors slowly behind itself. The parking lot was deserted of vehicles, nobody to hear the blood curdling screams coming from the rocking van that night. Blood splattered the small side window, like something exploded inside. It was a scene straight out of a horror movie.

In mere minutes everything was still again. The rattle of squeaky shocks came to a stop, and the creak of rusted hinges opened to give way to the Killer, leaving the bloody mess. Blood and guts coated the walls, other body parts hung from the roof and was scattered all over the van. A blue eyeball rolls out the door, hitting the pavement with a splat and rolling an inch away before the tendon goes dry and got stuck in the dirt. Forcing it to stare off into the distance with a lifeless gaze.

Detective Darren Smith drove up in his old, beaten up, red Chevy Caprice to a mostly empty parking lot, only a few feet from a police squad car. He strolled up to the yellow tape as red and blue lights of the police flashed around the border. A common sign that something bad had happened inside the flimsy fence. The early morning light was barely visible on the horizon.

"Good morning, Detective Smith," an officer wearing the rookie blue uniform scurried toward him and offered up a large cup of double double coffee.

"Ah coffee, you spoil me rookie," Smith smiled and took a gleeful sip of the bean juice, enjoying the caffeine as he was led towards the back of a dark blue cargo van. The back doors were open and only a few steps away were grey, waterproof tarps, covering what Smith figured to be the bodies of three victims on the cement pavement.

"Give me the report. What happened here?" Smith inquired while he peeked into the back of the vehicle, the blood failing to faze him. Seeing stuff like this may not be written in the job description, but it's what he encountered daily due to his position in the force.

"There wasn't much left of the bodies for the coroner to make any accurate analysis but, he believed a wild animal did this sometime last night. I have already alerted animal control to keep a look out for any unusual wildlife in the area. It couldn't have gone too far," the senior officer in charge answered, as he greeted Smith.

Smith took another sip before lifting the tarp's corner to see what's left of the mutilated bodies, there really wasn't much, so he understood the coroner's struggle.

"I've never seen anything like this before. What could've done something so fucking horrid?" the young rookie shivered, looking ghostly pale with the smell of bile on his breath when he peeked over the detective. Smith stared at the body parts with furrowed brows,

"Yes, who could do such a thing," he repeated, already having a good idea who it was.