The blaring music faded into background noise as Alex walked towards the exit of the club. After three long hours of drinking and partying, he was ready to head home. He had been careful not to overindulge himself this time, but the low-quality liquor was still making him feel slightly sick. He sighed. If it weren’t for the tiny population in the town, maybe there would have been more clubs to choose from. He had long since grown tired of the same old drinks, songs, and people that frequented the only club within twenty miles. Alex halfheartedly fished through his pockets to see how much money he had left. This was the other problem. He wanted to add more variety to his life, but spare change wasn’t going to buy him a plane ticket or a new apartment. With his current income of “just enough to get by,” there was no way he could leave his hometown anytime soon. His nearly empty wallet was a shackle that kept him bound here. He drew a quarter from his pocket and tossed it from hand to hand. It seemed like he would just have to keep working on his tolerance for cheap booze and stingy club girls. Alex was jerked from his thoughts by the shrill shriek of a police siren. He instinctively froze and spun around to see where the sound was coming from. A dozens different questions flashed through his mind. What happened? Was there another murder? Was it nearby? Was the killer still on the loose? Was he in danger, too? The increasing number of murders in town had set him on edge lately. At least four people had died in the last few weeks, and the murderer had yet to be caught. In fact, the killer was so elusive people were beginning to call him “The Phantom.” Two police cars roared down the street and sped around a corner, just one block ahead of where Alex was standing. He stared after them. After living in the same town for twenty-three years, he knew the layout inside and out. That street led to a dead end. The murder —if that’s what it really was— must have only just happened during Alex’s walk home. The crime scene hadn’t even been blocked off yet. He swallowed, suddenly swept by a morbid curiosity. Maybe he could get a glimpse of the victim. The media had been so vague about the murders. No one even knew how the people were killed. Maybe now he could find out. Alex hurried after the sirens. Around the corner, the police were already taping off the area. Alex crept closer to get a better look. On the other side of the yellow tape, he saw what would have been a body. However, it was too mangled to tell if it was man or beast. He paled and turned away. Seeing a corpse in a movie was nothing compared to seeing one in real life. The sight made him nauseous. Thinking about it now, Alex was surprised that none of the police had tried to stop him from looking. Normally they guarded their crime scenes with as much force as they could muster, but none of these men had even glanced his way. It was then that he noticed what held the attention of the police. There was another man trying to intrude on the scene. It only took Alex a moment to recognize him: the town nutcase, Trevor Darklin. What was he doing here? Alex watched as one of the policemen turned Trevor away, looking seriously pissed off. The rest of the officers returned to their other tasks, but that one especially frustrated man continued to watch Trevor as if he expected him to try to get by the tape again. The scenario was almost funny. It was also a good distraction from the gruesome corpse Alex just witnessed. “Hey,” he called out to Trevor. “What’re ya doing there?” He stuffed his hands into his pockets and smiled at Trevor condescendingly, falling back into old habits. “Find any aliens, Conspiracy Boy?”

"You gotta let me through!" Trevor Darklin pleaded with the blue-suited officer. "Please!" For months, Trevor had been reading about these crimes. Researching, studying, analyzing every bit of information that he could find. The internet carried little real evidence, and the newspapers brought a little more. But while it was a helpful resource, the local paper didn't give much in the way of details. He couldn't blame the publisher of course. Local papers had their corruptions, but not nearly as bad as the real force behind the obvious cover-up. Most likely, the police were working in conjunction with the government, holding back and real, valuable information from the public. The government was very fond of doing that. Unlike the rest of the town, Trevor had been suspicious from the start. This was the fifth murder in the past couple of months. Each was reported to have some similarities, although the media was so vague on the matter that he could merely speculate. He needed to see the body for himself. Fortunately for him, though not for the police or the victim, this crime had taken place directly across the street from where he lived. He had been there the second he saw the flashing lights of the police cars pulling up. The scene was still fresh, and the officers hadn't gotten around to blocking it off. It seemed this was his chance. At least, it had seemed that way until Mr. Blue-Suit had shown up. This cop was the only thing standing in his way now. How could the police be so foolish? Everyone in town knew that he was an expert on paranormal research, and there was obviously something not normal about this string of crimes. Whether they chose to accept it or not, these officers needed his help. Moreover, the victims needed his help, and as the only one crazy enough to actually figure out what was going on, it was his duty to help them. "I can help!" He attempted to explain as more officers approached, intent on holding him back. "I can tell you what killed these people!" "Aliens?" One of the officers scoffed. "Yeah, I'll bet it was aliens. They came from the sky to steal all of our cows and murder a few suburban dwellers in the process." Trevor glared at the man who had spoken. Aliens? That was such a stereotype. Of course this wasn't aliens. The random blackouts that occasionally spread over the town, that was aliens. The new corrupted senator whose cheesy smile got him elected by the mind-controlled masses: Aliens. The random disappearances a few years back- definitely aliens. But this? Not a chance. This only further cemented his beliefs that law enforcement knew absolutely nothing. And what the heck was he saying about stealing cows?!? "No," another officer interjected in a sarcastic tone. "It must be a cover-up arranged by the government." "Well..." It was, sort of. At least part of it was, but that wasn't what he was interested in at the moment. Mr Blue-Suit stepped forward, pushing him back into the street. "Stay away, FreakShow," he growled. "We don't want you here, and we certainly don't need you!" The others went back to their work, but BlueSuit remained, glaring at Trevor as though daring him to approach again. The young specialist was about to take him up on that dare, when he heard a voice calling to him from the other side of the yard. "Find any aliens, Conspiracy Boy?" the voice mocked him. Again with the aliens!?! It was not aliens! What were these people, blind? Aliens wouldn't have left behind a mutilated body, they would have taken it back to their home planet for study! Seriously, that was basic stuff. Even idiots knew that. "It's not aliens!" He turned in the direction of the voice. Seeing who it was, his eyes darkened. "Although I couldn't possibly expect you to know that." Upon seeing the face of his mocker, he knew exactly who it was. Alex... Alex Something. Okay so maybe he didn't know exactly, but he certainly knew the type. He'd seen this man around before, usually hanging out in clubs and bars. He was one of those arrogant unbelievers who thought that they were better than everyone else, always searching for some sort of purpose. Yet they assumed that tough they had no drive, they were still somehow more mature and intelligent than him. He who knew exactly what he was doing with his life. "And my research has nothing to do with you. Besides, I live here, so I have an excuse. What are you doing here?"

“It’s not aliens!” Trevor snarled at him. “Although I couldn’t possibly expect you to know that.” “Of course,” Alex said with a sarcastic shrug of his shoulders. “I’m not an expert like you.” A smirk tugged at his lip. He loved how easy it was to ruffle Darklin’s feathers. He barely even had to try! Originally, Alex was just going to leave Trevor with one little sting, but his reaction was too entertaining. He decided he had time to stick around for a few more jabs. “And my research has nothing to do with you.” Trevor went on hostilely. “Besides, I live here, so I have an excuse. What are you doing here?” “I live around here, too, hotshot,” Alex crossed his arms. “This town ain’t that big, you know. But more specifically, I’m here for that.” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the crime scene behind him. “Who can resist seeing a dead body, right? You know how uninformed the media keeps us these days. I wanted to see what’s going on, myself; I wanted to see just how ruthless this ‘Phantom’ guy really is.” Of course, this was all just a bluff, but Trevor couldn’t possibly know that. In reality, Alex was still slightly shaken from the sight of the corpse. He hadn’t expected to see such a gruesome murder, and now he could understand why the media was keeping this under wraps. The town would be wrought with panic if details about The Phantom got out. “So you think this killer’s not from Mars?” Alex said, swinging the topic back around to Trevor. “That’s boring. He’s just a normal guy like you and me? Well… like me, anyways.” He shook his head and went on, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You know, I just can’t bring myself to believe this guy is a human. To get away with this many murders and never leave enough evidence for the police to find anything at all? It’s almost like this guy really is a ghost.”

"Well, ghost would be more accurate..." he responded as seriously as he could manage. He knew that Alex was mocking him, but he refused to stoop to this guy's level. It was better to act oblivious, he figured, than to engage in petty arguments. Especially when those arguments involved opponents with little sense and even less knowledge. Remaining hostile could only hinder his research. Ignorant as he seemed though, this Alex character had managed to pose a half-decent theory. "Ghost" was a relatively large category, but from what little he knew, such an apparition would make a believable suspect. There was just one problem...

"Except, of course, 'ghosts' are generally intangible. Possession, maybe..." he began mumbling to himself as he stepped closer to the body. Blue-Suit had conveniently gone to join his friends in their work, evidently expecting that his conversation with Alex would distract him from his curiosity. Foolish man, that one. The cops filed inside, unable to move the body before the arrival of the coroner but eager to continue the investigation. Trevor couldn't help but smile at the opportunity, ignoring Alex now as he moved in closer.

That smile would not remain for long. What could only be the body of the deceased could barely be described as such. It was so twisted and mangled. The only identifiable part was the face... well, half of it at any rate. The other half had been scraped...no... clawed away. So deep were the wounds that nearly half of the skull was visible. It was a truly disgusting sight. Claw marks were evident across the entire abdomen, shredded cloth from what had once been a shirt was strewn about the scene, and what was left of his arms appeared charred and deformed. "Strange..." Circling around, Trevor found that the legs were mostly intact. That fact alone was very weird. What could mutilate the upper body to such an extent but leave the lower untouched?

Whatever it was, the wounds were definitely not self-inflicted. Trevor looked grimly upon the body. Part of him knew that he should be disgusted by the sight, but he wasn't normal. Perhaps to shield itself, his mind went immediately to his work. "Definitely not possession, that wouldn't explain the burns. A poltergeist perhaps? No..."