Chapter 4 – Clues and Conspiracies

Dexter didn't sleep that night. Not really. He dozed in fits and starts, his mind replaying the glowing eyes, the synchronized swings, the resonant growl that had vibrated through his entire body. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the Millbrook Shadow vanishing into darkness, just beyond reach.At 6 AM, he gave up on sleep entirely and made coffee so strong it could probably dissolve a spoon.His laptop was already open on the kitchen table, surrounded by scattered notes, printouts, and three empty energy drink cans. He'd spent most of the night researching everything he could find about the Millbrook Shadow, local folklore, and unexplained animal sightings in the region.The results were frustratingly sparse.A few mentions in old newspapers—livestock deaths in 1952, 1978, and 1999. Always dismissed as coyotes or wild dogs. A handful of forum posts from paranormal enthusiasts, most of which were either hoaxes or people claiming they'd seen "something weird" without any real details. And one blog post from 2003 by someone named TruthSeeker44 who claimed the Shadow was actually an interdimensional being that fed on human fear.Dexter bookmarked that one under "Probably Useless But Maybe?"His phone buzzed. A text from Isabel."Coffee? We should compare notes before meeting Bill. Java Junction at 10?"Dexter stared at the message for a full thirty seconds, his tired brain trying to parse whether this was a professional meeting or something else. Isabel was smart, competent, and—if he was being honest with himself, which he rarely was—kind of intimidating in a way that made his palms sweat.He typed: "Sounds good. See you there."Then he spent ten minutes agonizing over whether he should have added an exclamation point or an emoji. He didn't send a follow-up. This was professional. They were colleagues. Cryptid-hunting colleagues.His phone buzzed again. Martin."DUDE. You didn't answer my texts last night. Did you DIE? Are you dead? The Facebook group says someone saw a MONSTER at the park."Dexter typed back: "Not dead. Saw something. Meeting my team at 10 to discuss.""YOUR TEAM??? Since when do you have a TEAM??""Since yesterday.""Can I join the team?"Dexter hesitated. Martin was enthusiastic, but he was also the kind of person who brought crystals to cryptid hunts because he believed they "enhanced spiritual detection." Still, he was a friend. The only friend, really."Come to the north park entrance at noon. Bring practical supplies only. No crystals.""ONE crystal. For safety.""Martin.""FINE."Java Junction was the kind of coffee shop that tried very hard to be hip—exposed brick walls, mismatched vintage furniture, a chalkboard menu with drinks named things like "The Existential Espresso" and "Matcha Ado About Nothing." Dexter ordered a large black coffee and found Isabel already seated in a corner booth, her laptop open, surrounded by printed photographs.She looked up when he approached. "You look terrible.""Thanks. Didn't sleep.""Me neither." She gestured to the seat across from her. "I've been going through last night's photos. Look at this."She turned her laptop toward him. On the screen was a photo of the playground, zoomed in on the tree line. At first, Dexter didn't see anything unusual. Then Isabel pointed."There. In the shadows between those two oaks."Dexter squinted. There was a shape—vague, indistinct, but definitely there. Tall, hunched, with what might have been glowing eyes or might have been a trick of the light."Is that—?""I don't know. Could be a shadow. Could be lens flare. Could be something else." Isabel pulled up another photo. "But look at this one, taken three seconds later."The shape was gone."It moved," Dexter breathed."Or it was never there." Isabel sat back, rubbing her eyes. "I've been doing this all morning. Half the photos look like something's there. The other half look like I was photographing empty woods. I can't tell what's real anymore."Dexter understood that feeling intimately. "What does your gut say?""My gut says I saw something last night that I can't explain. My brain says I need more evidence before I jump to conclusions." She closed the laptop. "What does your gut say?""My gut says it's real. My gut has been saying that for fifteen years and has been wrong every single time. But this feels different.""Different how?"Dexter tried to put it into words. "Every other investigation, there was always an explanation. A logical reason for what people saw. Misidentified animals, tricks of light, overactive imaginations. But last night... the way it moved, the way it just vanished... that's not normal animal behavior."Isabel was quiet for a moment, studying him. "You really believe in this stuff, don't you? Cryptids, monsters, all of it.""I believe there are things we don't understand yet. Things that don't fit into neat taxonomic categories." Dexter shifted uncomfortably. "I know how that sounds.""It sounds like you're either crazy or onto something." She smiled slightly. "Jury's still out on which."Before Dexter could respond, the coffee shop door chimed. Jesse walked in, still wearing the same hoodie from last night, backpack slung over his shoulder. He spotted them and headed over."Morning," Jesse said, dropping into the booth next to Isabel. He pulled out his tablet without preamble. "Okay, so I stayed up analyzing the drone footage. Most of it's useless—too dark, too much tree cover. But I did get something interesting."He pulled up a thermal image on the screen. It showed a heat signature—large, quadrupedal, moving through the woods at a speed that seemed impossible for something that size."This is from right before we lost it," Jesse explained. "Watch what happens."He played the footage. The heat signature moved steadily, then suddenly—vanished. Not faded, not moved out of frame. Just disappeared."What the hell?" Isabel leaned closer."Right? I thought maybe it went into water, which would hide the thermal signature. But look at the terrain map." Jesse overlaid a topographical map on the image. "There's no water there. Just solid ground and trees.""So where did it go?" Dexter asked."No idea. Underground, maybe? But there's no cave systems in that area according to geological surveys." Jesse looked between them. "Unless this thing can literally turn invisible, I don't know how to explain it."They sat in silence, each processing the implications.Finally, Isabel spoke. "We need to talk to Bill. If he's been tracking this thing for fifty years, he might have answers."Dexter checked his watch. "We've got two hours. Let's use the time to build a proper investigation plan. If we're doing this, we do it right."They spent the next hour turning their corner booth into an impromptu war room. Jesse pulled up satellite imagery of the park on his tablet. Isabel organized her photographs chronologically. Dexter spread out his notes and historical research."Okay," Dexter said, grabbing a napkin and sketching a rough timeline. "Based on the newspaper articles, the Shadow appears in roughly twenty-to-thirty-year cycles. 1952, 1978, 1999, and now 2026. Each time, there's a spike in livestock deaths, strange sightings, and then... nothing. It disappears again.""What triggers it?" Isabel asked."That's what we need to figure out. There has to be a pattern." Dexter pulled up a document on his phone. "I found something interesting in the 1952 article. The farmer who reported the attacks mentioned that the incidents started right after a major storm. Lots of flooding, trees down, that kind of thing."Jesse was already searching. "1978... yeah, there was a severe thunderstorm in late August that year. Damaged a bunch of property.""And 1999?" Isabel prompted."Hurricane Floyd," Dexter said. "Didn't hit us directly, but we got the remnants. Heavy rain, flooding in the low-lying areas.""So environmental disruption," Isabel mused. "Something about storms or flooding draws it out?""Or displaces it," Jesse suggested. "Maybe it usually lives deeper in the woods, and flooding forces it to move closer to town?""But we haven't had any major storms recently," Isabel pointed out.Dexter frowned. That was true. The weather had been unusually calm. So what had changed?His phone buzzed. A text from Martin: "On my way! Also I checked the lunar calendar and tonight is a waning gibbous which is VERY significant for cryptid activity."Dexter sighed and put his phone away."Who's that?" Isabel asked."Martin. A... friend. He's meeting us at the park.""Another team member?""More like enthusiastic support staff." Dexter hesitated. "He's a bit unconventional, but he means well.""Unconventional how?""He once tried to communicate with a suspected Wendigo using interpretive dance."Jesse snorted coffee through his nose. Isabel tried very hard not to laugh and failed."This is going to be an interesting team," she said.At 11:45, they packed up and headed to Millbrook Park. The north entrance was less developed than the main entrance—just a gravel parking area and a worn trailhead that led into the older growth forest. Bill Kowalski was already there, leaning against a faded pickup truck and smoking a pipe."Right on time," Bill said approvingly. He eyed Jesse. "You're the one with the flying machine.""Drone, yeah. Want to see it?""Maybe later." Bill's gaze shifted to someone approaching on a bicycle—Martin, pedaling furiously and waving enthusiastically.Martin screeched to a halt, nearly wiping out on the gravel. He was in his early thirties, with wild curly hair, round glasses, and a tie-dye shirt that proclaimed "THE TRUTH IS OUT THERE (AND PROBABLY WEIRD).""Sorry I'm late! Traffic. Well, not traffic. I stopped to get snacks." He pulled a bag of trail mix from his backpack. "Anyone want some? It's got dried mango."Dexter made introductions. Martin shook everyone's hands with alarming enthusiasm."This is so cool," Martin said. "We're like a real investigation team. We should have a name. What about 'The Millbrook Monster Hunters'? Or 'Shadow Seekers'? Ooh, or—""We're not naming the team," Dexter said firmly."We could at least get T-shirts."Bill cleared his throat. "If you kids are done, I've got places to show you. But we're keeping this to the outer trails. No going deep. Agreed?"They all nodded.Bill led them down a narrow path that Dexter had never noticed before, overgrown and barely visible. The forest here was older, denser—trees that had been standing for a century or more, their canopy so thick it blocked out most of the sunlight."This is the old logging road," Bill explained. "Hasn't been used since the sixties. The Shadow favors this area. Lots of game, good cover, and people generally stay away."They walked in silence, footsteps muffled by layers of pine needles and decaying leaves. Dexter felt the familiar thrill of the hunt, but now it was mixed with something else—genuine anticipation. For once, he wasn't chasing shadows alone.After about twenty minutes, Bill stopped at a large oak tree. The trunk was scarred with deep claw marks, some fresh, some old and weathered."Marking territory," Bill said. "See how high they go? Whatever made these is at least seven, eight feet tall when it stands upright."Isabel was already photographing. Jesse launched his drone to get aerial footage. Martin pulled out a small notebook and started sketching the marks with surprising detail."You draw?" Dexter asked."Art minor in college," Martin said absently. "Never thought I'd use it for cryptozoology, but here we are."They continued on, Bill pointing out other signs—disturbed ground, broken branches at unusual heights, scat that didn't match any known local animal. Each piece of evidence made Dexter's heart beat faster.This was real. This was actually, genuinely real."Bill," Isabel said carefully, "in your fifty years of tracking this thing... have you ever seen it clearly? Up close?"Bill was quiet for a long moment. "Once. Long time ago. I was maybe twenty-five, hunting deer out past Ridgeline Trail. Thought I saw a buck, followed it deeper than I should've. Got turned around, sun was setting." He paused to relight his pipe. "That's when I found it. Or it found me. Hard to say which.""What did it look like?" Jesse asked, eyes wide."Big. Bigger than a bear. Moved wrong, though. Not like an animal—more like... I don't know. Like it was deciding how it wanted to move, if that makes sense. And its eyes..." Bill shook his head. "They looked at me like it was thinking. Like it understood exactly what I was.""What did you do?" Dexter asked."Stood very still. We stared at each other for what felt like hours but was probably thirty seconds. Then it just... turned and walked away. Didn't run, didn't charge. Just left. Like I wasn't worth the trouble.""And you never tried to prove it existed? Take a picture, get evidence?" Isabel asked.Bill gave her a long look. "Would you believe me if I said I thought about it? Even came back with a camera a few times. But every time I got close, I'd remember the way it looked at me. And I'd think... maybe some things don't need to be proved. Maybe some mysteries are better left alone.""But people are scared now," Dexter said. "If we could prove it's not a threat—""Who says it's not a threat?" Bill interrupted. "Just because it left me alone forty years ago doesn't mean it's harmless. Animals are predictable. This thing? It thinks. It chooses. That makes it dangerous in a whole different way."They walked in uncomfortable silence for a while.Finally, they reached a small clearing with what looked like the remains of an old hunting blind—rotted wood and rusted nails mostly reclaimed by nature."This is as far as we go," Bill said. "Beyond here, the woods get real thick. Easy to get lost. And that's where the Shadow dens, I think. Somewhere deep in there."Dexter stared into the dense forest. Somewhere in that darkness was the answer to everything he'd been searching for."We need to go in there," he said quietly."Not today you don't," Bill said firmly. "You want to go wandering around in there, you do it in full daylight with proper equipment and a lot more preparation. Understand?"Dexter wanted to argue. But Bill was right. They weren't ready."Understood," he said reluctantly.As they turned to head back, Martin suddenly grabbed Dexter's arm. "Wait. Do you guys hear that?"They all stopped. Listened.At first, Dexter heard nothing but wind through trees and distant birdsong. Then, faintly, he heard it—a low humming sound, almost like chanting. Rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern."What is that?" Isabel whispered."I don't know," Bill said, and for the first time, he sounded uncertain.The humming grew louder. Closer.Jesse's drone, which had been hovering overhead, suddenly stuttered in midair. The tablet in his hands flickered."Uh, guys? I'm losing control of the drone. The signal's going crazy—"The humming stopped.The forest went completely silent. No birds. No insects. Nothing.And then, from deep in the trees, came a sound that made Dexter's blood run cold.A howl. But not like any animal he'd ever heard. It was layered, multiple tones at once, almost harmonic. It echoed through the forest, seeming to come from everywhere at once."Back to the trucks," Bill said urgently. "Now."No one argued. They moved quickly but didn't run—some instinct told Dexter that running would be a mistake. They walked in tight formation, Bill leading, Dexter bringing up the rear.The howl came again, closer this time. Dexter risked a glance over his shoulder.There, in the shadows about fifty yards behind them, something was keeping pace. He couldn't see it clearly—just a dark shape, too large, moving between the trees with impossible silence."Don't look at it," Bill said without turning around. "Just keep walking.""How did you know I was—""Because I'm not looking at it either. And that's taking every ounce of willpower I have."They emerged from the trail into the parking area. The moment they stepped into the sunlight, the presence behind them vanished. Dexter could feel it—like a weight lifting from his shoulders.They all stood there for a moment, breathing hard, nobody speaking.Finally, Martin broke the silence. "So... that was definitely not a deer."Despite everything, Dexter laughed. It came out slightly hysterical, but it was genuine."No," he agreed. "Definitely not a deer."Bill leaned against his truck, looking older and more tired than he had an hour ago. "I told you. This thing isn't like the stories. It's not some dumb beast you can trap or track. It's smart. And it knows we're looking for it now.""So what do we do?" Isabel asked.Bill considered. "You want my advice? You document what you can from a distance. You don't go deep. You don't go alone. And if it shows itself—if it really shows itself—you don't try to get close. You take your pictures and you leave.""But what if we could communicate with it?" Martin suggested. "What if it's trying to tell us something?""Then it can learn English," Bill said flatly. "I'm serious, son. Don't anthropomorphize this thing. It's not E.T. It's not looking to make friends. At best, it's indifferent to us. At worst..." He shook his head. "Just be careful. All of you."As Bill drove away, the four of them stood in the parking lot, processing what had just happened."We need a plan," Dexter said. "A real one. Something systematic.""Agreed," Isabel said. "But not today. I think we all need to process... whatever that was.""Same time tomorrow?" Jesse suggested. "We could set up some wildlife cameras, do more aerial surveillance during daylight?""I can research local folklore," Martin offered. "See if there are any stories about what it wants, why it appears."They exchanged numbers, made plans to regroup, and slowly dispersed.As Dexter drove home, he couldn't stop thinking about the howl. The way it had seemed to resonate in his chest, in his bones. The way the forest had gone silent in response.Something was happening. Something bigger than just proving a cryptid existed.And for the first time in his life, Dexter wondered if maybe—just maybe—he was in over his head.But he was going to find out anyway.Because that's what cryptozoologists did.Even the self-proclaimed ones.End of Chapter 4