There's Something Out There Slaughtering the Livestock | A Liminal Original

Introduction

Dear Ma,

I want to preface this by saying I love you, and it may be a while before I see you again. Janie and I celebrated eight years together a few months ago, and Charles just turned two this fall. We had a small function with some other families in our town, Albrey, which has a small population of about 200 people. Regardless, Charles was spoiled rotten with many wooden toys thrown his way, and he cherished them all. The town has a heart of gold—nothing makes you feel prouder than seeing your baby boy smile like that. The day of the function was the happiest I’d seen Janie in the last five years, especially after Matthew’s untimely passing. I honestly thought I’d never see her smile again and that our marriage wouldn’t survive it.

Janie and I's new property has been serving us well; the acreage is perfectly sized, and harvests have been plentiful. I recently built a shed for my tools and a smaller makeshift cubby for Charles to play in. Sometimes I catch him copying me—whether hammering nails or sawing timber. He hasn’t spoken yet, but if I were to bet, "Daddy" would be the first thing out of his mouth.

Things have been looking up the last few months, but truth be told, we’ve had issues with livestock lately. Over the last few weeks, I noticed some of our cattle went missing. At first, I thought some local wildlife had been sneaking in at night, but then I found the bodies. I had taken the horse out by the river, which runs to a large inlet about 20 acres from the house, just down on the south end. Sprawled along the riverbank were about six of our newborns. You’d assume these animals had drowned, either intentionally or not, but they had been killed—massacred. Their stomachs had been ripped open and various body parts were missing.

Admittedly, we had a gator problem. Countless times, I had seen gators pull in small game from the river. However, I’d never seen a mass grave of this proportion. Janie and I suffered financially because of this, and we needed to replace the animals over time. I spent a couple of days building a makeshift fence to prevent future incidents. Some local gentlemen offered to help out for free, insisting we could pay with something to satisfy their hunger. It was a relief that the problem temporarily seemed solved—we replaced the dead and soon found ourselves back in the swing of things. Charles was happy and healthy, and I felt fairly comfortable in our lodgings.

Tonight, however, things changed. First, I heard a painful moan echoing from the pasture. I feared the worst—a sick cow or something worse. I told Janie I’d check on it, and she sat quietly reading while Charles played by the fireplace. Just before I left, I told Charles he was in charge while I was gone, prompting Janie’s laughter.

Armed with my rifle, I made my way through the pasture, following the sound of the moan until I found our oldest cow, Betsy, now horizontal and suffering. Her stomach was split open, exposing a mess of organs. It was a hard decision, but I knew what I had to do. I shot her to end her suffering, and the echoes scattered the night sky.

That’s when I saw it. As I stood over Betsy, a pair of golden, luminescent eyes swayed on the edge of the tree line. At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks, but then the sensation hit me—a force so great it knocked me across the field. I crumpled to the ground, feeling broken ribs and the sharp taste of blood. When I finally looked back, I saw my horse, Delilah, in the grip of a wholly ungodly beast.

The creature was a horrifying amalgamation of nightmares—both insectoid in shape and wolf-like in texture. Its claws dug into Delilah as it methodically drew closer, and before I knew it, she suffered the same brutal fate as our cattle. I scrambled for my rifle beneath the growing flames from my lantern that had cracked and exploded on impact. My right hand was mangled, leaving me with no choice but to run for my life.

Heart pounding, I finally reached my porch, gasping for breath. The house was dark; Janie had clearly put Charles to bed. The smell of smoke was thick in the air, and I was too terrified to think about what waited for me inside. As I opened the door, everything turned into a nightmare—blood splattered everywhere inside our home, and the bodies of my family lay lifeless.

Ma, I regret that I could not protect them. Now, I find myself here, sitting in a chair I built and waiting for the flames to consume everything all over again. I can hear Charles's laughter and Janie's whispers as if they were just behind me. I have never been one for fairy tales or happy endings, and I know what I must do.

I've loaded a spare pistol with six bullets. Five are reserved for the beast that haunts us. The sixth? That’s for me if things don’t go as planned. This letter will stay safely in a metal box in the shed. I hope you can read it.

I love you, Ma. You always looked out for me.

Your son,
Jeremiah

Keywords

  • Albrey
  • Janie
  • Charles
  • cattle
  • livestock
  • massacre
  • Betsy
  • creature
  • Delilah
  • survival
  • nightmare
  • blood

FAQ

Q: What happened to the cattle?
A: The cattle were found lying dead by the river, indicating a possible massacre rather than natural causes.

Q: What creature is responsible for the killings?
A: A terrifying, monstrous being was observed attacking the livestock, described as an amalgamation of nightmares.

Q: How did Jeremiah react to the situation?
A: Jeremiah attempted to save his livestock and ultimately faced the creature, resulting in a life-threatening encounter.

Q: What are Jeremiah's intentions after the attacks?
A: He has loaded a pistol with bullets intended for the creature and himself, showing his desperation to protect his family.

Q: Will the letter Jeremiah wrote be found?
A: He has stored the letter in a metal box in the shed, hoping it survives the impending destruction.