Part I

This is based on a true story, from my understanding. I was not involved in the events and have only heard the story recently. Now, I am not saying this is 100% true or accurate, I personally find some of it hard to believe. They, however, swear it is the truth and I would like to believe them. Even if this story isn't true, it is one heck of a thriller.

I must warn you readers before we begin, reading about, seeing, listening, or talking about these creatures will bring them to your doorstep. Please be aware, there are no known weaknesses to these creatures.

They are relentless and ferocious. They hunt men as though they are animals. They do not fear any weapons man made or otherwise. Worse of all, they take on a shape that we trust, they can be your family, friends, or even your pet. Be wary of everything. I write this now because I feel that this story must be known to all, even at the risk of my own life.

What are these creatures called? The American Indians called them skinwalkers, those that walk the world as monsters in human skin, other legends call them vampires, werewolves, even trolls. For the sake of understanding, I will refer to them mostly as skinwalkers unless they take on other forms that best suit another name.

The story begins in a small town in Colorado where crime is rarely seen or heard of, everyone knows everyone kind of town. It's small and rural with a population of just a little over four hundred people living there. Most had grown up in this town, though some, such as the Miltons, had moved in recently.

Speaking of the Miltons, they were the first family to experience the events that had cost so many their lives. They weren't as friendly as the other families, even went out of their way to avoid people, but they were a part of the community. Now, we all know how it is to accept someone into our communities, whether it is through our personal circles such as social apps or drinking buddies, you take care of each other and if anyone betrays someone in the circle, they are dealt with harshly. There are times, however, where we do not know of the betrayal until it's too late to do anything about it.

This just so happens to be one of those times when the betrayal was hidden from sight. You see, the miltons didn't move to this small rural town in Colorado to get away from the big cities nor for the fertile farmlands. Hell, they didn't even move there for the one thing Colorado is famous for, legal weed.

They moved to this rural town for one reason and one reason alone. They were running from someone... or more accurately, something. It seemed fitting that they were the first to fall victim to the very thing they brought to this small town. No one can tell you just how it happened, they can only tell you what they saw and heard.

It was a dark and dreary night as sister Selma, who looked like a picture perfect nun, approached their small house out in the woods. She had regularly come out to their house to preach the great gospel and try to save at least their little one's souls, but this night was different. As she approached, her '89 Chevy had difficulty moving in the dirt driveway that led straight to their front doors, something jumped out in front of her. It was quick and sister Selma barely had time to register who or what had jumped in front of her struggling vehicle before slamming on her breaks.

Sister Selma's Chevy might have been old but thanks to Clyde's boy, her brakes worked better than any of these newer automobiles and she came to a dead stop a foot away from whatever kind of animal, for now she was sure it was an animal that had jumped out at her. It had long black fur, or maybe it was hair, sister Selma could not tell but she knew, whatever it was, it was covered with it.

Sister Selma sat in her Chevy, shaking as she stared into the eyes of this creature. She tried to make heads or tails of what it was she was staring at. She tried to call out to the strange creature, ask if it needed help, it was the Christian thing to do after all, but she found her voice strained as only a small squeak came out as the skin of the creature began to shift.

Sister Selma's eyes became as round as dinner plates as she ducked her head and began to pray to the good Lord. She didn't get far in her prayer though, as a loud yelp could be heard from outside the vehicle accompanied by the sounds of yelling. When sister Selma looked out her windshield, she could see the young Milton boy running down the road but no sign of the creature.

Sister Selma began to relax, taking in a deep breath that caught in her throat as she carefully looked at the young man that approached her. He waved at her with his left arm, his palm stained dark red with what sister Selma could only think was blood, his short brown curly hair looked dirty, nated with dirt and blood, blood was smeared on one side of his face, and the boy's right arm laid at his side, stiff and unmoving as blood slowly dripped from his fingertips. The boy's eyes was the last thing sister Selma noticed and let me tell you, the fear in that boy's eyes nearly sent the dear sister running.

Now, sister Selma was the most devoted servant of God you would ever see. Some even say she is more devoted than the pope himself and would gladly argue the point with anyone who said otherwise, but let me tell you, in this moment, she would have thrown her faith out the window in a heartbeat and left this town and life behind if she thought it would save her from the fear she felt.

Sister Selma, albeit stupidly, clung to her faith instead and even hopped out of her vehicle, heading towards the young man to help him. As she loaded the young man into her vehicle, she took in her surroundings for the first time since seeing that horrible creature and what she saw makes her weep till this day. The last anyone in this small town saw of her after dropping the young Milton boy off at the local hospital, she had obviously been drinking, which was uncommon for her, and ranting about how there is no God and later, as the death count started to climb, she left, leaving all to wonder what she saw.

The Milton boy, Karl, was more inclined to speak of the events he saw play out. This, dear reader, was the point where the danger no longer followed the Miltons, but the entire town.

A few hours prior to sister Selma's encounter with the strange hairy creature, the Miltons had just settled down to eat their dinner. It was five in the evening, the same time they always ate dinner, and Karl's pa had just returned from Mr. Douglas farm where he worked as a farm hand and tended to the cattle. Karl couldn't remember what they spoke of but he did remember sister Selma being brought up a few times and how the family was tired of her trying to convert them to a religion that had no grounds to stand on.

That was when they heard it, it started out small, almost inaudible, but the moment they heard it they all froze. Karl, being the youngest of the children, hadn't realized what was happening, as his ma hurried him down a flight of stairs and into the basement. The noise came again, this time louder, sending his older siblings into a panic as they pushed past Karl and rushed into the basement.

However, this was a mistake. A hand shot out of the darkness and wrapped around Emily's, the Milton's oldest, throat and began to squeeze. She fought back desperately, trying to free herself of the hand but couldn't muster up the strength she needed to pull away. In the end, the hand made a sharp twisting movement and the sickening sounds of bones breaking could be heard as poor Emily stopped moving.

Karl was so transfixed on Emily that he hadn't noticed his older brother, Mark, was laying on the ground a few feet away from his sister. Mark had been the lucky one, his death was instant, or so Karl had said. He couldn't clarify if it truly was or wasn't, he could only describe the scene he saw. Mark laid on the ground, his neck torn open revealing bone and muscle. It looked as though the creature that stood over Mark, a creature Karl could only describe from movies and video games as a werewolf, had almost bit clean through his neck and only left enough for his head to stay attached.

Karl turned to run, to rush into the safety of his ma and pa, only to hear the sounds of his pa's .45 firing off a shot as a large creature that could have been mistaken for human steadily approached him. Karl's eyes went wide as he realized his ma was being dragged behind this giant creature. Blood smeared her face and natted her hair, her dress, the same dress she wore every Sunday, was torn from neck to groin. Blood smeared onto the floor and a sickening sound of bones being dragged across the wood could be heard.

Karl fell to his knees, he didn't dare make a sound or even move. He stayed where he was as he watched as the giant man lifted his hand and brought it down onto his pa's head, crushing him and turning him into a bloody pulp. Then came his turn, one of the creatures grabbed his arm and he must have gotten an adrenaline boost or something because he fought back, pulling at his right arm and managed to free himself as he escaped into the front yard where he saw sister Selma, or at least that is what he said.

Dear reader, I am going to tell you not to trust such things. If a monster, be it man or otherwise, has the strength to crush a full grown man, then a boy is nothing. You see, when sister Selma finally spoke up about what she saw to the survivors of this small town, she told them that she had seen the Milton family's bodies hanging in a tree. Pieces of their bodies were missing and even described what the young Milton boy had described, but what scared her the most was the last body that hung from the tree. It was the body of Karl torn in half. Young Karl had not survived the encounter with the creatures and sister Selma feared that if she let on, she would be the next person to hang from those trees.

This is just the beginning of the end for the small town in southern Colorado. Join me next time as we explore what happens to young Karl and learn more about these creatures called Skinwalkers.