Chapter 1: Goat Blood, Heatwaves, and Something Not Quite Coyote

In a small apartment in Mexico City, the sun shone through the cracked window. It was 25°C now, but by noon, it’d climb to 30°C easy. Light crept across the face of a sleeping young man, until—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

The alarm clock screamed to life.

“Ugh... what time is it?” I groaned, grabbing my phone.

One glance—and I shot up. “¡Mierda! I’m gonna be late!”

I sat on the edge of my bed, letting my soul reconnect with my body. Nearly fell asleep again. Zzz...

Ring ring!

My phone buzzed. I checked the caller ID—oh no. It was my boss.

No time to waste now.

I stumbled to the bathroom for a shower, needing to wash off the scent of last night—cigarettes, cheap alcohol, and bad decisions.

The water hit me.

Ice cold.

“¡AHH! Coño—did I forget to pay the damn water bill again?!”

Well... at least now I was wide awake.

I threw together a cup of instant noodles for breakfast while dialing my boss back.

“Hello, Fernando. Why’re you calling this early—”

“Hernandez! There’s been a slaughter. If I don’t see you in seventeen minutes, you’re working double with no extra pay. ¡Entendido?!”

“Y-yes, sir! On my way!”

I hung up and scrambled into my forensic uniform. Took the noodles with me. Slurped while waiting for my Uber.

“Come on, where is this guy... dammit,” I muttered, noodle cup in one hand, phone in the other.

The car finally arrived. I jumped in and opened the case file Fernando had sent me.

Dead goats.

The crime scene photos almost made me puke right there in the Uber.

A few minutes later, we pulled up to the farm. I paid the driver, stepped out—and there he was.

Fernando, arms crossed, scowling like death.

“Hernandez. You’re late.”

“Sorry, sir.”

“Since you’re late, you get to clean up when we’re done.”

“...Yes, sir.” I straightened my uniform. He was probably gonna complain about my appearance next.

“This case is as crazy as that one on La Isla de las Muñecas.”

“The one where you screamed because a spider landed on your face?” I smirked.

“Laugh again and I’ll dock your pay.”

Fair enough.

We reached the goat pen. The stench hit us like a brick wall.

“God... it smells like something died here.”

Fernando side-eyed me. “You did shower, right?”

“Of course, boss. Totally.”

“Just do your damn job. I’m gonna talk to the farmer. Figure out what happened to these poor lamb chops—I mean, goats.”

While Fernando questioned the witness, I circled the pen.

An intern gave me a weird look. “Uh... Hernandez? What the hell are you doing?”

“Calculating the layout. Trying to map movement patterns—the goats, and the attacker.”

“Unless the killer’s Dracula, I think you’re wasting time,” he replied, holding a clipboard filled with observations.

Another officer chimed in. “All the bodies were drained of blood. What kind of animal does that?”

I kept walking, noting something strange: no visible damage to the fence. Usually coyotes break something when they raid.

And all these goats... seemed to have been killed by one creature.

Coyotes hunt alone or in pairs. Wolves in packs. But this? This felt deliberate. Calculated.

Then something caught my eye—a partial paw print buried under loose dirt.

“Hey! Someone get a sample of this paw mark!”

A camera snapped. Another intern scraped the sample carefully.

Just then, Fernando returned—with a shaking old farmer beside him.

“¡Dios mío... it was el Chupacabra!” the farmer said, crossing himself.

The team burst out laughing.

I didn’t.

“Hey! Cut the crap!” Fernando barked. “You want me to make you cry like him? Especially you, Ramirez—don’t make me dock your pay.”

“Eh... sí, sir...” Ramirez mumbled, wiping sweat from his brow.

“Damn heat... Why’d it have to be July?”

That’s when I noticed something.

The paw prints... led outside the pen.

“Hey, you two—camera and sample gear. Follow me.”

“Right away, sir!” the interns followed as I traced the trail into the nearby woods.

Then came another stench. Even worse than before.

“Oh god. Is that...?”

“Yeah,” an intern confirmed. “It’s a bear.”

A bear. Dead.

Its throat had been torn open. Bloodless.

Whatever killed the goats... killed this too.

I pointed at one of the interns. “You. Name?”

“Uh—Alfonso, sir.”

“Tell Fernando we found another crime scene. And bring backup.”

He nodded and ran off.

I inspected the bear’s wounds. The bite marks were deeper, sharper—suggesting the creature could adapt its bite pressure.

Then something else.

Tire tracks. Leading away from the woods.

To a dirt road.

Leading toward cartel territory.

My stomach sank.

I then sample the tire check secretly cause when It involve the cartel you don’t know who you can trust.

Three hours later, we finally returned to the station, sunburnt and exhausted.

“Finally,” Ramirez sighed, driving the cruiser.

“Hot, confusing, and creepy. Great combo.”

As we left the rural road, I noticed several cars parked nearby. Watching.

Scouts, maybe. Or warning us not to get involved.

Back at the station, I headed to the lab.

“Hey Hernandez, you’re back,” said José—the forensic tech everyone calls Lab Rat.

“Yeah. Any results on that paw print?”

“Still with the rat jokes? I swear, one day…”

I fake-coughed. “Just show me what you found.”

José rolled his eyes and pulled up a report.

“We ran comparisons. The print matches 64% with a coyote… and about 36% with a Xoloitzcuintli—a Mexican hairless dog.”

“A hybrid?” I asked, blinking. “That even possible?”

“Well, coyotes and dogs can breed. They’re close genetically. So yeah—it’s possible.”

I rubbed my temples. “Great. A mutant coyote-dog thing that drinks blood. Perfect.”

"oh yeah José before i leave here i manage to get a sample of a tiretrack can you find what it match with end make it off the book ok 

"eh ok Hernandez end as usual right?"  his expression is nervous it's understandable the cartel have their finger on everything possibly there also a mole here.

"yeah as usual thank José." i tap on José shoulder

Then my phone buzzed.

Fernando.

“Yeah, boss?”

“Hernandez. You’ve got someone to interrogate.”

“Who is it?”

“The bruja.”

“…What?”

“You heard me. The witch.”

To Be Continued...