Blogtober 2023
Clarkton drove to the Sheriff’s office after completing his investigation at the funeral home. As expected, there were no signs of forced entry and no footprints other than those Tippen left as he walked into the field behind the building.
Dawn was still struggling to turn the skies from dark to light when he arrived at the office. The shift change wasn’t until eight, but the graveyard crew was nowhere to be found except for Carmen, the radio operator, who was talking rapidly on both the phone and the radio.
Murphy was the only deputy at his desk; the rest of the office was empty. He looked as if he had been here all night, an observation that was quickly confirmed.
“We’ve had four more reports of bodies found in the woods,” Murphy told him. “We’ve been sending officers to investigate all night, but we had to ask the city and the Highway Patrol for help.”
“Any word yet?”
“See for yourself,” Murphy said, holding up his cell phone, which displayed a series of ghostly faces, all rigid in death, their eyes all milky white.
“Where’s the sheriff?”
“In the deer woods down in Ripley County,” Murphy said. “No answer on his cell, but I texted him and left voice mail.”
“Let’s talk to Carl again,” Clarkton said. “We have to find this thing.”
They unlocked the door to the interview room and found Carl dead on the floor, his body cold and stiff, his eyes void of any color.
Photo credit Adobe Stock #651942151
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