Buried

CHAPTER 28 | reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated

📎A/N. [August 22] - It looks like most of you saw two images in the last chapter.  A young woman and an old woman.  :-)  And as @Queen_of_Hades correctly pointed out, the image is from Gestalt psychology.

Since I last checked my wattpad reader world map, we have been joined by :  Brazil, Senegal,Ghana, Portugal, Botswana, Malaysia - Welcome to you all :)

Don't forget to vote. Take care, and thanks for your continued support...

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"And you are sure it was a wolf?"

"Positive."

"And you didn't think to report it to the police?"

"Well," admitted the blood shot eyed man, "I might have had a bit to drink that night."

Drew continued to question his latest lead. As a witness, he had no credibility. His overpowering stench of alcohol, jaundiced looking skin, and bloodshot eyes screamed alcoholic. How the man held down a job to fund his addiction, was a mystery to Drew.

As this wasn't the only person he had spoken to regarding this particular sighting, he wasn't overly concerned. It only reinforced what he already knew. Confirming the last known sighting, he headed further down East 4th Street. Once he reached the Church, he made his way up the stairs of the main entrance. A set of stunning massive wooden doors adorned the majority of the front of the building. As he drew nearer, something caught his eye.

Deep scratch marks had been cut into the wood, marring the otherwise perfectly maintained and polished entryway. The cuts were uniform and thick. The reporter reached out and touched the door. A chill ran down his spine. He had recognised the scratches as claw marks. Whatever had done this was large and, not to mention, strong to have inflicted that much damage.

There was no doubt where the wolf had been. But why was it so eager to get in?

Drew wandered around the side of the church checking for any other evidence of the wolf's presence.

"Can I help you?"

Drew spun towards the voice. Rattled that he had failed to notice the groundskeeper raking up leaves. He turned on the charm that had managed to get him out of awkward positions in the past and introduced himself.

It did not take long before he came away with what he was after, his mind fixated on what he had just heard.

It can't be a coincidence.

Drew pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts list. He found the name he was after and glanced back at the Gate of Heaven Church, hoping his call would be answered.

"Hey Barney, it's Andrew." After dispensing with pleasantries Drew cut to the chase, "Barney, I just heard that my parish priest has gone missing and none of you are doing anything about it."

"What the hell are you talking about? And since when, are you religious?" snapped the voice at the other end.

"Father Paul Myers. I want to know what's going on," he warned, "or maybe I will just have to write a story how the Boston PD is actively persecuting religious freedoms."

"Cut the shit, you and I both know that's not true." There was a pause while his contact, a desk sergeant in the police force, looked up the information he was after. "According to this, he was reported missing, but as it was less than twenty-four hours, we couldn't do much about it at the time."