Far From Home - Chapter 1 - First Draft

I'm sure it will go through a ton of changes between now and publishing, but here is the first draft of the first chapter to 'A Taste of Home's" sequel titled 'Far From Home'. I know this is a tease...but it will kind of give you an idea of where the story is heading. Enjoy








1.
The falling December snow blanketed the tiny North Texas town of Twin Oaks in a manner which only a few of its residents had experienced before. Occasional streaks of the evening sunlight nestled securely behind the slow moving clouds briefly illuminated the accumulating mounds of precipitation to reveal a feeling of purity that was rare to these parts. It wasn’t an everyday winter occurrence that the children of this community got to don their cold weather clothing and venture out into what resembled a Norman Rockwell painting come to life or the adults a day off from their jobs at Ellen Air Base without it feeling like they were participating in some massive act of absence. This wasn’t the first situation outside the bounds of normalcy for this small community in recent times, though. To be more precise, nothing had been the same for any of its citizens over the past five years.

For most of them, it was easy to think back to the days when their town had been beaten to its knees by the tyrannical Sheriff Jessie McGee. What had begun as an innocent take over of the county offices upon his election soon turned out to be a living nightmare of fear, greed, and corruption. Before long, it was unsafe to roam the streets after dark due to the skeletal drug traffickers that policed their once quiet neighborhoods. Citizens who stood against McGee were silently disappearing at an alarming rate and rumors swept throughout the community on frightened lips regarding the Sheriff’s involvement in it all. Their futures seemed hopeless with no end to the chaos in sight. That was before the infamous Liberman family incident…

Toby Liberman had been a man that was no different than any other you’d pass on the Twin Oaks main drag while the average citizen went about their daily activities. Middle aged, yet handsome, rarely an eyebrow had been raised in his general direction over the years that would cause someone to distinguish him from any other man in town. He had grown up in this tiny community, played for the high school football team in his youth, and slaved away after graduation as a drone worker for the town’s only local employer. Like many of his fellow classmates and coworkers…he’d barely crossed beyond the borders of the city limits signs with the exception of a few military years that he never seemed to speak of. In all meaning of the word, he was the epitome of ‘local’.

His best friend and eventually brother in law Johnny Haynes was an inseparable part of Toby’s life from school, Army, and workforce. At times, it appeared as though the two of them were somehow attached to one another because it was a unique occasion when one was seen without the other. Johnny had been more of the leader of the relationship with a tongue like sharpened steel and an attitude to match. He had protected Toby for the majority of his life and it was a surprise to no one when the local preacher announced to the world for the first time that Toby and the lovely Jessica Haynes were joined in holy matrimony. The town would never be the same...

Fast forwarding throughout the years, the typical observer would notice a child born into the Liberman family and a picturesque portrait of small town Texas life unfolding for all to see. In Twin Oaks…it was almost expected. By day, it was witnessed by all that the young family would go about their daily lives in an orderly and typical fashion concerning work and home like any other. It was by night, however, that things in the Liberman home were not exactly as they seemed to their friends, neighbors, and the occasional nosey passer by. As most marriages do, a dozen or so years had taken their toll on the relationship and the more exciting and dark aspects of the tiny town were shaping into something that Jessica Liberman was becoming more and more attracted to with each passing argument. Of course, it didn’t help much that a certain Sheriff and had been trying desperately for the majority of his life to win her heart and steal her away from Toby by any means necessary. This also meant that the Sheriff Jessie McGee was definitely not Mr. Liberman’s number one fan and supporter. Without a doubt, regardless of a clean record as far as the law was concerned, Toby was the Sheriff’s mortal enemy. It wasn’t long before the rumors began to fly.

Night after night, Toby was left to his own devices to raise and care for their daughter, Katie, with Johnny to assist him with filling in the blanks here and there when his inexperienced fatherly advice just wasn’t enough. As luck would have it, as it often does when it comes to broken marriages and infidelities, a town drunk by the name of Archie Weldon let slip the rumor of the heated meetings between Jessica Liberman and Jessie McGee and a confrontation that would change everyone’s life in Twin Oaks, both directly involved and innocent bystander, took place. This particular incident was indeed the initial domino that caused the entire parlor trick to go awry and the numbers displayed regarding the population on the city limits signs to dwindle…

On a rain soaked October morning, before the sleepy townsfolk could barely rub the muck from their eyes and partake in their morning coffee ritual, the local media had released a statement that shocked them all beyond belief. Toby Liberman had been discovered unconscious in a field of blood and surrounded by the remains of three other unfortunate locals. Although the details were sketchy at first, it turned out to be the bodies of a local young teenager and two ambulance technicians that were supposedly on scene to help in an unknown situation. He was arrested on sight by the Sheriff Jessie McGee and taken into custody to the Myrtle County jail awaiting arraignment. Before the rumors altering and twisting the situation could even fall upon the ears of the unknowing, however, that situation was changed drastically also.

The morning after, the citizens of Twin Oaks were updated to the facts that Toby had somehow escaped the confines of the jail and was now at large and hiding out somewhere deep in the wooded areas just outside the town. His long time best friend and family member Johnny Haynes was reported to be murdered at the hands of the fugitive and a county wide manhunt was organized. Soon after, Toby’s wife Jessica would fall victim to her husband’s wrath also and all law enforcement and committed townspeople involved in the search remained clueless to his whereabouts. The young Katie Liberman was nowhere to be found and was suspected to be a victim of kidnapping by the twisted father.

A few mornings later, while the citizens of the small town quaked in fear of what could possibly lay in store for each of them, news reports and video footage flooded their senses revealing that Sheriff McGee had been responsible for all the macabre happenings by his own confession and Toby Liberman, now reunited with his missing teenage daughter, was an innocent man once again…with one small difference to his once mediocre existence. The video footage being shown on the local news stations revealed the Sheriff to be some kind of monster, a werewolf in all mythical sense of the word, and he had been defeated at the hands of a similar looking Toby Liberman. Confused as to whether or not their eyes were deceiving them all, they eventually embraced what remained of the Liberman family for all they were worth. Celebrity status helped a little…which eventually led to his election as Myrtle County’s Sheriff with no opposition whatsoever and taking the place of his former arch nemesis. The town now fully believed in his supernatural existence and embraced their new mascot, so to speak, as he used his new found powers for good instead of the evil intentions that the murderous movie monsters they’d grown to fear from the minds of active imaginations and Hollywood makeup artists. All had become normal once again regardless of the changes submitted by the citizens of Twin Oaks on how the definition of normalcy needed to be altered.

It had again become a picturesque portrait of small town America where families could live and grow again like they could before the dark times of Jessie McGee. It was a way of life only spoke about on the tongues of the older individuals who had remembered fondly the ancient way of life. Occasionally, a howl of terror would be emitted from somewhere in town deep in the darkness of the night that still frightened some of them to the bone…but ultimately they knew all was well. Sheriff Liberman was doing all he could to ensure their safety and well being…by any means necessary. Sometimes…a werewolf just has to feed.

As the years rolled slowly by and Toby was elected yet again to the office of Sheriff for a second term unopposed, the majority of the townspeople soon forgot of his ‘specialty’ and he was viewed once again as just a normal guy with a badge. This was exactly how Toby wanted it. He had taken a new bride and his daughter, blossoming into a beautiful yet unusually aggressive young lady, had moved away to college. Life was peaceful. Granted, there was a time in his life that he had learned to cherish his extraordinary gift due to the fear it brought those that would come to Twin Oaks in order to do harm to it’s sanctity or it’s residents…but those instances had now become far, few, and in between in the eyes of the town’s citizens. Word of mouth travels fast and goes great distances when it comes to the lifestyle of criminals and the locations in which they’re not welcomed. As far as Toby Liberman was concerned, this was all that any of them needed to know. The majority of the town’s battles had actually been fought privately and in complete secrecy from the population. Knowing from the beginning that he wasn’t the only creature of the night lurking the world, he felt that it would be best for such tales to go untold. Today, however, that choice was no longer his to make and a few of Twin Oak’s most well known citizens were about to learn the hard way that…just because you don’t go looking for trouble…doesn’t always mean that it won’t get bored and seek you out instead.

Mitchell Sanderson had been the head barkeeper at the Twin Oaks American Legion for well over thirty years. Since his return from Vietnam in 1973 with both his mind and body being far from completely intact, he had been offered the job as a way to still serve his country and his fellow veterans…even if it only meant serving them one beer at a time. In all fairness though, he really didn’t mind all that much being stuck in the presence of alcohol from dawn until dusk day in and day out. In a way, it reminded him of those friends that were long gone and forgotten in those far away jungles of his youth. Sometimes, deep in the night when he’d had more than a few…the images of those old buddies and the instant replay of their demise that had been burned into his brain for all eternity came back to haunt him. After a few more, they’d be quieted again for the remainder of the evening, but the quiet sometimes frightened him more.

He had been present on that fateful day that Toby Liberman and Johnny Haynes confronted Archie Weldon in his bar. Granted, he had to remove Haynes from the establishment on more than one occasion and several of those times had been initiated long before Haynes lips had even enjoyed the first sip of his Blue Moon beer. That guy had a way with words that would either make you double over in laughter instantly or despise him to the point of coming to blows without regard to life or limb. In all honesty…he missed him fondly. Toby had left the bar in hysterics that rainy October evening and nothing had been much the same since. The changes had taken a lot of getting used to but eventually, after finding out the shocking truth behind all of the former Sheriff’s lies, he gladly cast his vote later that year that would land Toby Liberman into the seat of Myrtle County’s number one protector. Needless to say, he was a huge fan of the Sheriff and he made damn sure that he never paid his hard earned money for another beer. It was the least he could do to give back to the community.

The bar itself, once decorated with war photos and military memorabilia from around the world, was now a shrine to their local legend come to life with framed posters displaying every werewolf movie ever made…complete with a vintage pinball machine that proudly boasted the hair covered face of the great Lon Chaney shadowed by a blindingly bright full moon. He never quite understood why the Sheriff would repeatedly attempt to explain to him that his fantastic gift was not really a gift at all. It was a curse straight from the bowels of hell or possibly lower. Mitchell didn’t care. He thought it was fascinating.

Today was one of those days in which he hoped that the good Sheriff would come in for a drink or two just to alter the tracks of his melancholy mind that was wandering way too much in the silence. The unusually harsh snow storm had driven the majority of his normal patrons back to their homes and families to be protected from the elements gone wild and there’s only so many times you can hear The Eagles belt out Duelin’ Daltons on the juke box before you begin to get a little bit lonely in the darkness. He tried to refrain from drinking while minding the bar but today was the extraordinary exception to the rule and more than a few shots of whiskey was currently warming the empty pits of his stomach. It was taking everything he had not to close up shop and catch a nap by the wood burning stove in the makeshift back room that he called home but the one customer he’d had so far was still sitting in the darkest corner of the bar still banging away shot by shot at the bottle of Jack Daniels he had purchased nearly two hours ago. A bartender’s job is never truly finished as long as the Tennessee boy’s continued to distil and deliver their fine product throughout the world.

Finally, the dim beams of approaching headlights peered underneath the doorway and his brain’s pathway of loneliness and despair on this frigid winter’s day was interrupted with the hopes of conversation and camaraderie. Sure enough, the door to the bar swung open with a blast of frigid wind and falling snow revealing the image of two regulars that would again bring a little normalcy to this most unusual of afternoons. Knocking their boots together on the welcome mat to remove the caked on snow and shaking of the bone chilling cold, Frank Morrison and Benny Johnson slowly strolled to their usual seats at the bar rubbing their exposed hands together in an attempt to warm them from the repeated attacks they’d endured from the falling temperature.
“Hey Franks and Beans” Mitchell welcomed them in his usual fashion “I was wondering when and if you two were going to make a cameo today!”

Frank and Benny were two of the civilian workers on the flight line of Ellen Air Base and, as of right now, they looked to be more miserable than that of recent memory. The majority of the men and women that occupied the work force there were from Dallas and weren’t about to traverse the treacherous roads that separated the big city from Twin Oaks but the locals didn’t possess much of an excuse when it came to the bad weather brewing above their heads. In these types of situations, the average outsider wouldn’t think that there would be much to do when it came to the comings and goings of aircraft but crazy Air Force pilots fear little in the form of bad weather.
“Yeah” Frank spoke first “I didn’t think those fighter jockeys were ever going to stop flying in today. We’ve been fueling them constantly since the sun came up this morning…what little bit of sun there was.”
“You’d think that those guys would’ve wanted to stay on the ground today” Benny added to the conversation “but I guess it’s a pretty big adrenaline rush when you’re kicking afterburners with the wind knocking you around like you’re a paper airplane in a fan factory.”

Mitchell poured them up a couple of their usual drinks and sat out a bowl of fresh pretzels. Clinking their shot glasses against one another in a show of celebration for the simple fact that they’d survived yet another day in the human workforce, they simultaneously poured them down their welcome throats and requested another. Well knowing of the two men’s traditional behavior Mitchell hadn’t even bothered to place the bottle back on the shelf behind him. He obliged without even so much as a hint of hesitation. Leaning in closer to them, he whispered his warning.
“You boys might want to keep your conversations of the local varieties to a minimum today, if you catch my drift…there’s a fellow sitting in the corner back there that’s not from around here.”

Together, they both looked over their shoulder to take a quick glance at the shadowed individual that hadn’t so much as spoken more than two words to Mitchell since he’d entered the bar with the exception of his order. The man just stared straight ahead into nothingness as though he was in some sort of a hypnotic trance and took no notice to the fact that he was being sized up and picked apart by the two curious locals. Slowly, they turned back to their drinks in confusion.
“Who the hell is he?” Benny inquired “I’ve never seen him around here before.”
“I know” Mitchell answered to the best of his abilities “I checked his identification when he came in here because he almost looks too young to even buy a soda pop. His birth date checks out though. He’s got some type of weird Indian name that I’m not even going to attempt to pronounce and the address is from Oklahoma.”
“Oklahoma!” Frank almost announced too loudly “I wonder what the hell brings him here on a day like this? The weather up that way is the same as it is here. His hair is way too long to be military…”
Mitchell just glanced at the two of them blankly, sharing in their enigma.
“That’s exactly what I was thinking also. I was beginning to wonder when he was going to come to life and try to rob the place…that’s why I was giddy with joy when the two of you strolled in here. I feel a little safer now to tell the truth.”

The two men shrugged it off and slammed back their second shot of liquefied courage. There wasn’t much tolerance in their town anymore for individuals that wandered in with unusual or ill willed agendas and, if it was up to Frank and Benny, they weren’t about to allow anything to go on without at least questioning the man’s intentions. As far as they were concerned, his presence there wasn’t making much sense at all. Twin Oaks was nowhere near the interstate and you didn’t end up there on accident on your way to anywhere important. Requesting and finishing yet a third drink, an unspoken understanding of what they must do washed over them as their barstools squealed backwards across the floor in unison.
“You guys be careful…” Mitchell warned them both “The phones are still out from the storm and I don’t have any way to get in touch with Toby if things get crazy in here.”
The two men choked back their laughter with a grin.
“Don’t worry, Mitch…we’ve got this” Benny assured him “Besides…this kid looks like he thought he grew a pubic hair once…until he pissed out of it!”

Slowly and surely, the locals crept towards the unknown figure of the stranger that wasn’t even so much as grimacing at their approach from across the room. Pouring and sipping another round from the whiskey bottle on his table, he wasn’t even bothering to turn his head noticing the movement in the otherwise dark and statuesque surroundings. He just stared straight ahead as though his attention was being occupied elsewhere. The only problem with this situation was…there was absolutely nothing there to get his attention. Clearing their throats again together as though they had practiced this scenario a dozen or so times…they spoke up.
“Hey, last of the Mohicans, can we help you with anything?” Frank initiated the taunting “You’re a little far from the reservation.”
“Yeah” Benny agreed “We don’t see too many of you guys down this way. Did the casinos shut down early or something because of the weather?”

Mitchell began to laugh underneath his breath a little at the humor being spewed forth by the two guys on the attacking end of the conversation. Still, he couldn’t help but be a little nervous towards the situation at hand because the one being attacked still hadn’t so much as even acknowledged their presence. There was something about the quiet man that he couldn’t quite put his finger on yet. Either way, if push came to shove, there was three of them and only one of him. If that still weren’t enough…there was always the twelve gauge shotgun that lay hidden underneath the lip of the bar with a round chambered for just such instances.
“Are you deaf, Tonto?” Frank carried on “Or are you just ignoring us on purpose?”

The dark skinned stranger filled his shot glass one more time and pressed it firmly against his lips. Tilting his head backwards with a purpose, he slammed the burning liquid hard against the back of his throat and slammed it violently against the wooden table causing an eerie thud to echo throughout the quiet room. Cutting his eyes up at them under his coal black hair that draped messily across his stone face, he finally returned fire.
“The reason I’m here has nothing to do with either of you” he growled deeply “If I were in your boots…I’d want to keep it that way.”

Frank and Benny no longer chose to disguise their laughter out of respect for the stranger and let it all out. The young man didn’t appear to be any older than his mid twenties and had the body frame of someone who hadn’t picked up anything heavier than a television remote control during his entire life. If fear was what the man was trying to produce within the souls of the two burly men, then the young brave was failing miserably. Without hesitation, Benny decided to kick the festivities up to the next level.
“You know, young buck…you’d look awfully funny going back to the teepee with that whiskey bottle shoved up your brown ass…”
“Yeah” Frank backed up his friend “You’ve got a lot of damn nerve coming into our place of patronage and throwing threats around like that!”

Scooting back away from the table and standing straight up revealing his height to the men, the stranger glared deep into their souls with sureness and not a drop of fear. Gently, he pulled his hair back from his line of vision revealing more of his youthful face. Standing firm, he offered his challenge.
“Well, if you think you can teach me some kind of life altering lesson to assist me in changing my ways…I would be more than obliged to learn from you.”

Before the words had barely left his lips, Benny lunged forward with a punch that was sure to land its mark. With lightning fast reflexes, the young boy sprung out of the way and grasped the approaching projectile firmly. Twisting it backwards and locking it firmly behind the aggressor’s back, the once sure man screamed in pain from the quick counter attack. The Indian youth slammed him hard against the back of his neck with a powerful swipe of his free hand causing a deafening pop to echo throughout the building. Casually, he dropped the limp body to the floor and kicked him out of the way in the hopes that the next man still contained the desire to be the follow up challenger.
“You’re dead, Tonto!” Frank screamed grabbing a billiards stick from the closest wall “You came into the wrong watering hole today!”

Swinging frantically, the delirious local sent flying glass in all directions as the glass bottle on the young man’s table fractured into tiny shards all around them. Ducking and dodging in an unnaturally fast manner, the new target of his anger flipped backwards out of the line of fire and crouched backwards on the floor beyond with acrobatic grace. Glancing up at him with eyes of fire through his stringy, flowing hair, the young boy lunged forward again in attack without warning. Catching the stick in midair at full swing, he tucked it hard into the crook of his arm…yanking it from its former owner with a violent tug leaving him weaponless. Breaking it hard against his knee, he swung the splintered wood with blurring velocity slapping the frightened, fleeing man on both temples of his forehead with the precision of a trained assassin. Lifeless, Frank crashed into the antique pinball machine causing sparks and flickering lights to blink madly creating a strobe light effect in the far corner of the bar. Flinging what remained of the pool cue carelessly behind him, the once thought harmless young boy now turned his attention on the only conscious individual left in the room.

Fingers fumbling with fear, Mitchell Sanderson reached underneath the bar for the cold steel barrel of the waiting shotgun. Breathing heavily from the scene that had just played out before his very eyes…he flicked the weapon’s safety mechanism and aimed it with shaky precision. Without fear or hesitation for his own safety, the more than capable target approached him slowly through the showering, arching electricity.
“I hope the aim of that weapon is truer than that of your heart’s intentions, old man…I can smell your fear from all the way over here!”
“What the hell do you want from us?” the old bartender screamed in terror “What are you even doing here?”

The young brave snickered and smiled through his evil teeth. Brush his hair back away from his face yet again, he continued his approach towards the angry weapon without so much as a pause. His muscles had grown to recognizable definition more so than they were before the confrontation had been initiated. Finally, he spoke again to reveal his sinister answer.
“I didn’t come here to cause a problem with you, old man…nor did I come here to be harassed by two drunken hillbillies. I came here for Toby Liberman.
“The Sheriff?” Mitchell inquired confused again “What the hell do you want with Toby Liberman?”
“That’s my business, old timer, and if you value your life you’ll continue to keep it my business” the Indian boy barked at him with hatred in his voice “Now, since you decided to interfere with my agenda, I suggest you call him here while you still have the ability to speak!”

The old war veteran began shaking uncontrollably with thoughts of what was to take place in his near future. Not only had this unknown threat just taken down two of the toughest men in Twin Oaks like they were infants, he was courageous or ignorant enough to walk towards a loaded gun in the hands of a Vietnam veteran and was wanting him to summon the one person in town that wouldn’t be the loser in any conflict placed in front of him. To make matters much worse, Mitchell had no way whatsoever to call for assistance which was more than likely not going to cause any type of smile, twisted or otherwise, on the face of the man that now intended harm to befall him. The young Indian spoke again with authority.
“You’ve got exactly ten seconds to pick up that telephone and give me what I want or I’m going to hurt you in ways that are going to make those rice patty nightmares of yours seem like bubblegum and lollipops!”
“I can’t!” Mitchell plead for his life “All the phones are out and I can’t call anyone right now!”

Suddenly and without warning, the boy flung an empty beer glass from one of the vacant tables with sniper precision shattering it against the barrel of the twelve gauge shotgun. With the pain of a dozen tiny stabbing knives penetrating the flesh of his hands, the weapon was forced from Mitchell’s hands as blood began to cover the countertop below him. Approaching again with yellow eyes piercing the darkness between them, the old man said a silent prayer to the powers that be against the pain and misfortune that was destined to soon engulf him.
“I don’t give a damn if you’ve got to set this place on fire with both of us in it” The young man now ordered a mere two inches from the bartender’s troubled face “You get that son of a bitch over here!”

With the chill of a thousand snow storms, the frigid air whipped inside the bar from the open door revealing the silhouette of a man in the doorway exhibiting no fear or sign of retreat at the situation before him. Satisfied, the young Indian boy backed away from his injured prey and stood firm and ready for what awaited him. Slamming the door hard behind him with a scream of the interrupted wind, the individual stepped forward causing the neon lights to reflect a prism of color against the polished tin star upon his chest.
“Do you know how long it took me to track down and restore a Wolfman pinball machine?”

Peering underneath the rim of his hat, Toby Liberman quickly shot his eyes in all directions to assess the oncoming dangers. With the exception of the bartender, his target, and the two unconscious men by what remained of his arcade game, the youthful aggressor was the only enemy to be found. Gently, he removed his head cover and placed it atop the hat rack by the bar’s entrance.
“I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time Mr. Liberman” the boy finally spoke breaking the awkward silence “I’ve prepared for you.”
“As young as you are, puppy, there’s no way that you could’ve prepared yourself enough” Toby spoke surely “Just remember when this is all said and done…you brought this on yourself”

With a gut wrenching and sinister growl, the stranger fell to the floor writhing in pain as bones cracked revealing his true form. Mitchell gawked with an open mouth in both fear and wonder at the grotesque sight of the beast now returning to view. With his head held high, the creature lurched forth a howl of challenge to all who stood before him revealing his weapons of torture at the end of each fingertip. Dropping low into a defensive stance, he motioned for Toby to accept the invitation.
“Mitch…go and find a shady spot and lock the door. You’ll know it’s over when the screaming stops” Toby instructed him.
“No problem, Sheriff” he replied “Good luck…”

As the bartender fled to the back room, locking the door behind him firmly, Toby began to unbutton his uniform shirt and removed it to reveal a plain white cotton undershirt. He’d ruined enough expensive clothing over the years that he nearly had the procedure down to a less than respected art form. Taking a deep cleansing breath to focus his thoughts, he now faced the monstrous terror head on.
“You know…it’s one thing when you guys show up at the house to raise hell…but when you come into a bar…my bar to be exact…and start ripping up the place in front of my citizens who have little or nothing to do with our little conflict…I have a tendency to take that personal.”

Shaking off the oncoming pain with a shrug as he’d done a hundred times before, the Sheriff’s alter ego came to life without so much as a flinch. Before he could blink an eye, the young wolf lunged directly for him with claws exposed in an attempt to tear him to the bone. Effortlessly, Toby dove to his left avoiding the attack and causing the new villain to smash head first into the bar with a dull thud from the impact. Grasping hold of the nearest table, he slammed it hard against the body of the stunned aggressor shattering it into a hundred tiny splinters. This fight was over.

As the hair receded back into the body of the conflict’s victor revealing a more recognized image of the Twin Oaks hero, Toby removed his service weapon from the holster and pulled back firmly on the hammer. There was no point in destroying any more of the bar than had already been done before his arrival. Too weak to change, the young boy glared up at him through weakened animal eyes and prepared for the finale of his failure.
“I’ve told your people ten times or more that I’m sorry I had to kill one of your own…but every time you come here I end up killing one more. Deliver that message to the spirit world and pass it around as much as possible because, honestly, this shit is getting old.”

With the ear piercing crack of the weapon, the monster fell lifeless and the conflict ceased to be. Holstering his weapon once again, he buttoned his shirt and sat down hard atop the closest bar stool with his head held firmly in the palms of his hands. Like a frightened child in the darkness, the bartender slowly opened the door and peered around for any signs of danger. Seeing that all was calm again, he emerged cautiously and headed in the direction of Toby for the details of all that came to be.
“Do me a favor Mitch” Toby spoke first “Give me a bottle of anything and then go outside and call the paramedics from my squad car’s radio so you guys can get some help. I’m going to sit here for a moment or two and pretend like the last ten minutes of my life didn’t happen.”

The bartender glanced at the nerve racked man with sorrow regarding what he just had to do. Granted, he would’ve killed him if the Sheriff hadn’t have intervened and saved him, but all in all he was just a kid and this was no way for a child to die…regardless of where that child’s frame of mind resided. Toby sighed a breath of relief and began to pull the whiskey directly from the bottle. It didn’t take a psychiatrist to interpret the fact that what he’d just done scarred him deeply.
“If I hadn’t done that Mitch…” Toby explained “he would’ve kept going until he killed both you and me. I figured there was no reason to draw it out and destroy the rest of this place. I just finished it as quickly as I could.”
Mitchell placed a comforting hand upon his tense and weathered shoulders.
“Were you serious when you said that he wasn’t the first one to come here for you Toby?
“Yeah” Toby answered him sorrowfully “This was just the first time they ever involved anyone else and they’re usually a lot older than that.”
“Well, you had to do what you had to do” the old bartender attempted to console him “What if that would’ve been Becky in here instead of the ‘Franks and Beans’ twins?”

Toby shuddered to think at the truth behind it all. There were only four individuals in the town of Twin Oaks that new the truth of what happened that stormy night in the Myrtle county fair grounds all those years ago and two of them were no longer among the living. His former best friend and then spiritual advisor Johnny Haynes and his mortal enemy, the cause of all this, Jessie McGee lay six feet underground without the ability to tell anyone his secrets. The other two were his wife Becky Liberman and himself…and the two of them had sworn to take the unspoken understanding to their own graves also. The thirteen year old Katie Liberman, his only daughter, had been the one to deliver the death blow upon the Sheriff that night. If anyone at all knew of the family secret, it would instantly place her in danger also regardless of the fact that she was now far from home. All that anyone needed to know was that Toby was responsible for it all. It kept him in the sights of the Native American werewolf clans of Oklahoma and her out of the path of danger.
“It didn’t matter who was here, Mitch…it’s my job to protect you guys no matter what. This conflict just happens to be a personal one aimed at me. I just hope that they come to an understanding soon that I don’t intend on rolling over without a fight…”

Toby glanced down again at the bleeding boy that had long since returned to his human form on the floor below him. He knew deep down that this conflict was far from over and they’d never stop coming for him to take out their revenge for the loss of Jessie McGee. Regardless of how he’d twisted his power for that of wrong doing and oppression, none of their pack had ever seen it with their own eyes or experienced what it had been like to live in fear of his shadow. He was their brother…and that was all that mattered to any of them. Taking another pull from the emptying bottle, he glared at the mirror on the other side of the bar revealing the face of a man that was no longer easily recognizable.
“I’m just glad that Katie isn’t here to witness any of this. You know how much of a danger magnet she is…”

P.R.I.N.T.'s 2011 Mission Statement

Paranormal Research and Investigations of North Texas is a non profit organization that investigates claims of paranormal activity and urban legends in the North Texas area and beyond. We don't care about getting famous. We've had more media attention since 2004 than most organizations will have during their group's lifetime. We don't need anymore. We don't want anymore. We've investigated Theme Parks, Universities, Courthouses, Historic Landmarks, Private Residences, and Cemeteries galore...and we're only interested in one thing. The truth. We don't post potential evidence and make it available to the public. We're a serious group that is here to help serious people with serious problems. If you're looking to gain some sort of attention by falsifying or creating a paranormal activity claim...please do not contact us. There are enough pseudo groups that want nothing more than their name in the newspapers that will be more than excited to help you. If you have a real problem and you want real help...feel free to contact us.
Email - chadandnez@hometownoutcasts.com
Alternate Email - paranormalnorthtexas@yahoo.com
Phone # 903-217-0499
www.hometownoutcasts.com