There is a farm in a small town near where I live. It is said strange things happen in the farmlands there at night. Cows are slaughtered by unknown causes every night. The farmer, not knowing what else to do, set up cameras surrounding his flock of cows. Hoping to catch whatever beast it was that kept killing them. They were his livelihood after all. But nothing; the cameras would always quit working near midnight. When they would fix themselves twenty minutes later, the cows would all be killed. I was quite naïve and ignorant about my true self when I was sixteen. I gathered information about this farm; where it was located, what actually became of the cows, and whether or not the farmer would allow someone like myself to look at his lands.

It took me less than six hours to reach the town, and another two hours to find the farm. The farmer was reluctant at first to let me go out among his cows, but eventually I was able to talk him into letting me. As I said I was naïve and went by myself into the farmland, armed with only a small photographer’s camera. I never thought it would be anything supernatural or the likes, only that it was probably a cougar or something.

I set up my small campsite near where the most slaughtered cows were found. Then sat and waited for midnight to come. I had begun to fall asleep, when the first cow began getting nervous and paced within my small fire’s light. By the time I stood up and got my camera ready, all the cows were nervous and mooing. Sweat poured down their flanks and their eyes were wide and wild. Something large and dark appeared out of the corner of my eye. Turning, I snapped a quick picture, before I was flung nearly fifteen yards away from where I once stood.

Shaking off the shock, I rose unsteadily to my feet. A scream flowed from my throat, as I watched two cows being gutted by thin air. There was nothing there, yet claws raked through the cows, killing them effortlessly. Not knowing what else to do, I snapped another picture, then ran for my life. Knowing the instant whatever it was, was done with the cows, it would come after me next.

By the time I got in my car and began driving away, I finally realized I was injured. Blood dripped down my neck and chest from four claw marks. Instead of going to the hospital, since I had no clue how I would explain what had happened, I went back to my hotel room. After washing and bandaging the wound, I went to sleep.

Ten years later, I now sit at a table with four friends. My fingers were absently rubbing the scars, as I listened to their conversation. They wanted to check out a graveyard that was thought to be haunted by a young girl dressed in red and black. For five years we had done this. Gone from town to town, recording which places were actually haunted and which were just made up stories. Who would’ve thought there was money to be made in this? In fact we got paid quite a lot. Every town seemed to want a true ‘haunted house’, and would pay dearly for anyone who could tell them whether or not theirs was real.

Their voices trail off as they all stare at me. Evidently they asked me something and I missed it. Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I stare back at them. “ What did you say?” Justin smiles as he leans back in the booth, placing his hands behind his head. He is the second oldest of our small group. He just barely turned twenty seven two weeks ago. “ We asked, Gale, if you wanted to take the graveyard job? After all, you’re the most sensitive of the five of us and normally can sense what we fail to.” I closed my eyes and rubbed them; I was beginning to get a headache.

This always happened, since I first met them on a job we both were getting paid for. The innkeeper wanted a show and thought it would be funny bringing two rivals together in the same place. Instead of fighting amongst ourselves, we helped each other out to prove it was a false claim. After seeing how skillful I truly was, they asked me to join their group. They now would always turn to me for the final say; if I decided against it, we wouldn’t go. Whether they really wanted to or not.

Opening my eyes, I stare down at the map set out on the table. I didn’t want to take this job, the town was too close to the farm I was nearly killed at. But I couldn’t tell them that; I never told them how I got the scars. Sighing, I look up at the four expecting faces. I knew our funds were running low; we hadn’t taken a job in six months. I guess that was the reason I agreed to the job. I just hoped when we reached that town, they would not hear rumors about the farm. If they had, I knew they would talk me into going back. My ‘boys’ as they deemed themselves, were a rowdy bunch and at times, I could not deny their request for a new job.

It took us two and a half days to get to the small town. My brow crease slightly as I came downstairs from my rented room. Shay was sitting by himself at a table in the far corner of the dining room. He was hunched over the table and seemed to be working on something small. At twenty nine he was the oldest of us and our ‘fearless leader’. Ordering a couple drinks, I made my way over to him. When I reached him, he moved over on the bench so I could join him. Sitting, I looked over at the small object he was etching runes into. “ What are you working on, Shay?” A slight smile played across his lips, but he didn’t say anything. As I knew he wouldn’t.

In the five years we worked together, Shay had never spoken a word. Clive, his step brother, had once told me Shay was mute, but I didn’t believe it. I figured when he wanted or needed to say something, he would and everyone would listen and comply without hesitation. I smiled slightly at this thought. Even though he didn’t talk, we had done what he asked without hesitation over the years. Although I had the final say of what jobs we would or would not take, it was Shay who found and researched each and every single job before it was brought to our attentions.

Clive came rushing over to us the instant the drinks I ordered arrived. Taking a seat on the other side of the table, he took my drink and nearly downed it in one gulp, earning an exasperated sigh from me and a smile from Shay. Clive is the youngest amongst us and even though they don’t share the same blood, Shay has always treated him as an actual brother. With him being only twenty, I had tried to get him to stay behind on some of the jobs, but he never listened and got backed by the rest of the group. I would only bring it up to protect him, but they never saw it that way and over the years I quit trying.

“ Justin and Nicholai will meet us in twenty minutes outside the graveyard. I had done what they asked and stopped off at the graveyard to see if I could pick anything up.” “ And?” I asked as I leaned slightly across the table. “ There is defiantly something there. And whatever it is, it’s quite powerful.” Sighing, I leaned back against the seat. I was hoping it wasn’t a strong being, I hated them. Least so far, none of the stronger ones had been as bad as the one that had scarred me.

Shay had finally finished his etchings and placed the small object down. He then stared at his younger brother. Clive shifted uncomfortably from his intense stare, and turned his gaze to me instead. I knew what Shay wanted, in this matter he and I were of the same accord. “ What more can you tell us about what you felt?” Clive remained quiet while the waitress refilled his glass, then walked away.

“ This is not a place we should be discussing such matters. Besides, I don’t wish to tell it twice. How about we wait until we meet up with Justin and Nicholai?” Turning to Shay to see what he thought, I sighed. He was back to inspecting the runes he placed on the object. “ Shay?” He turned and stared at me for a moment, before shrugging. He then gestured it was time to leave.