Lexi Loud sat on the front porch of a dilapidated two story house on a narrow side street in a rough neighborhood of Chippewa Falls with a can of beer wedged between her toned thighs and her phone in her hand. She squinted her eyes to read the text message but the screen kept blurring and she finally gave up.
It was a warm, quiet night in late June and she was at the home of a friend of a friend of a friend, where she had been invited to hang out for the evening. When she arrived on her motorcycle three hours ago, she found a bunch of people she didn't know drinking beer and blasting hard rock. She waded into and now, she had a bunch of cool new friends and a belly full of beer. She didn't realize she was tipsy until the text came in and she tried to read it. She felt perfectly fine, but staring at a bright LED light made her head ache and her eyes cross.
While she could handle a lot of booze and still function like normal, Lexi did not drink very much. She was a fitness fanatic who boxed, did cardio, and lifted weights. Alcohol wasn't something she gave her body a lot of. In moderation, it was okay, weed too, but she practiced a policy of only partaking in those activities once or twice a month, and then only socially. She had friends whose parents were alcoholics and the dangers of addiction were imprinted on her brain. A few beers here and there don't mean that you're a drunk but a few beers is how it always starts. No one begins with a whole bottle of wine in a brown paper bag, they build themselves up to it.
Lexi did not beat herself up for drinking on occasion nor did she have any hang ups about it. She had a good time that night meeting and talking to new people, and that was what was important. As someone who concerned themselves with fitness, she realized that physical fitness was only one part of a healthy whole. Being physically fit is great, but to truly be a well rounded person, you must be socially, emotionally, and spiritually fit as well. Those were the four pillars on which to build a good life and Lex swore by them.
Slipping her phone into her pocket, she polished off her beer and stood up. "Alright, guys, I'm gonna head out."
The other people clustered on the porch bid her farewell and she went down the rickety wooden steps leading to the cracked concrete walkway connecting the house to the sidewalk like a backwater blood vessel. Her Harley was parked at the curb, its lines sleek and hard like those of a prowling panther at rest. Her helmet dangled from one of the handle bars; she picked it up, put it on, and buckled the strap around her chin. She kicked the kickstand up, swung one leg over the seat, and shifted her weight onto the beast's back. She turned the key and the engine clicked on like the low purr of a big cat.
With one final wave at her new friends, she pulled away from the curb and guided the bike to the end of the street, which turned into a cul-de-sac. She went around the loop, leaning heavily to one side, and passed by the house, beeping the horn in a final-final goodbye. The street filtered out onto a bigger side street characterized by corner stores, barber shops, and boarded up buildings covered in graffiti. At this late hour, the hood was largely empty save for a hobo pushing a shopping cart filled with cans and a couple dark figures walking through the night, on their way to distant destinations. Lexi passed three cop cars on her way to the main drag, one of them tearing headlong down the street without its lights on. Another turned their roof rack on only long enough to pass through a red light. Lexi rolled her eyes. She got that emergency vehicles sometimes had to run red lights to get to the scene of a call, but abusing that privilege got on her nerves and made all cops look bad.
Well, that and whipping people's asses in the streets.
Chippewa Falls' main street was Central Avenue, a dark and depressing strip of seedy bars, cheap restaurants, and stores that seemed to close down as quickly as they opened. In the daytime, the sidewalks bustled with life, everyone (and everything) looking like it belonged on the set of a Friday movie. Now, near midnight, it was desolate, the neon signs in some of the windows flashing on empty pavement. The rumble or Lexi's engines echoed and reberberated between the storefronts like thunder, and she revved the engine just for the thrill of hearing it fill the night.
Outside town, Central Avenue turned into Route 12, a wide but winding two lane highway, and the buildings gave way to dense pine forest that pressed against the aged and dented guardrails. The road twisted and turned, switching back and forth on itself, and Lexi reduced her speed. She was coming up on Zombie Curve, so named because people wrecked there every couple of days and those lucky enough to survive sometimes stumbled around dazed and confused like zombies in an old Romero movie. It was a dangerous hairpin curve and Lexi's parents had drilled into her head the need for caution while traversing it. She slowed her speed even more as she came to it and kept her eyes open for danger.
She took the curve carefully and came out the other side without becoming a balloon and a teddy bear tacked to a blood stained tree trunk. She started to speed up again but noticed something in the distance. Red and blue lights.
A cop.
Lexi slowed down again. The car was 500 feet away, parked on the gravel shoulder. She didn't think much of it until she was a little closer and realized something.
The lights.
They were red and blue.
All of the cop cars she had seen around here had pure blue lights.
Eh, not a big deal. It was probably passing through from another county and the cop driving it had to pull over and take a leak.
The closer she got, however, the more odd the scene became. The car sat behind a red Toyota with its hazard lights blinking. At once, Lexi noticed that something wasn't right about the cruiser. All of the police cars in Royal County were white and the Michigan state police vehicles were blue or black with gold markings. This car was black with flames racing up the sides. Instead of a star on the door, there was a red something that looked suspiciously like a pentagram in a circle. Strange writing stood out from the rear driver side. Lexi wasn't big on languages so she couldn't be sure, but it looked kind of like Latin. The back license plate was white with raised black font reading: H.S. 666.
Lexi squinted her eyes to make sure she was reading it right.
In all her years - which weren't all that many, admittedly, but enough to have a grasp on basic things - she had never seen a license plate like it. Or, for that matter, a cop car like this one.
An eerie feeling came over her, as though the atmosphere itself was somehow different here, and the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up. A voice in the back of her head told her to keep going, but as she drew abreast of the Toytoa, she glimpsed a pair of legs sticking out from behind the front end, as though someone were lying on the ground. Her heart bounced and she eased on the brake, bringing the Harley to a jarring halt. The cop's radio crackled with static and voices and as she listened to them, Lexi realized something else.
Other than the CB, the night was totally silent. No crickets chirped, no wind stirred the trees. It was as if the universe were holding its breath in dread expectation. Lexi's stomach clutched and her heart sped up. Go, the voice told her, but her eyes darted to the legs. Someone might be hurt.
Taking her helmet off in a spill of chestnut hair, Lexi got off the bike and engaged the kickstand, leaving the engine on. She tucked the helmet under her arm and approached the Toyota. She was a few steps from the front end when a wet smacking sound found her ears. She stopped and listened, brow knitting. It sounded kind of like...chewing. Yes, chewing. And not just any chewing, the kind of sloppy, messy, cringe-inducing chewing that her aunt Lana did at Thanksgiving. The sound cut out, only to be followed by a sickening slurp. Lexi pictured aunt Lana sucking the meat from a chicken wing and her face crinkled in disgust.
What the hell was going on here, a dick sucking party?
She walked to the front end of the Toyota and turned.
Someone lay on the ground and someone else straddled them. At first, she couldn't see them very well, then a beam of moonlight fell across them and she could. The one on top was a cop with a brown, short-sleeve uniform shirt and a wide brim campaign hat. He was bent over the fallen man, face buried in his neck like Count Dracula having a midnight snack. His humped back was to her so she couldn't see his face, but she could clearly see the face of the other guy.
It was pale and stained with blood.
"What the fuck?" Lexi spat.
The cop stopped and whipped his head from one side to the other, sniffing the air like an animal. He turned and Lexi let out a shocked yelp. His face was white and mottled like that of a corpse, and his eyes were inky black. His mouth dropped open in an impossibly big oval, and crooked yellow fangs ringed it, wet with dripping with blood and saliva. An invisible vise grip closed around Lexi's chest and her eyes widened to twice their normal size. The cop leaned forward and let out a high, unearthly screech.
Reacting on instinct, Lexi swung the helmet by its chin strap. It connected with the side of the monster's head and knocked it over .She wheeled around and ran back to her bike, terrified puffs of air bursting from her chest. She realized that she had dropped her helmet but didn't care. She jumped onto her bike, and at once, the thing was grabbing her and trying to pull her off. Its fingers were long, slender, and hooked, the nails jagged and yellow. They raked her flesh and tore at the back of her jacket. Her spine gave an eerie tingle at the way its rank breath broke on the back of her neck ande panic consumed her. Grunting, crying, and panting, she thrashed in the creature's grip. It got behind her and yanked at the same moment she rammed her elbow backwards. It slammed into the thing's stomach and its hold broke.
Sobbing in terror, Lexi gunned the engine and the Harley took off like a rocket, wobbling left and right as she fought for control. The cop gave chase on foot, and when she sped off, it let out a howl of frustration.
The night air was suddenly cold as it flowed over Lexi's face. Hysteria clawed at the edges of her consciousness and she shook so badly that keeping the bike from swerving off the road took everything she had. She looked back as if to confirm that it was all a nightmare, and started when the cop car topped a hill and started for her, its engine purring like a big cat and its red and blue lights flashing silently in the night.
A scream escaped Lexi's throat, and turning around, she bore down on the throttle. The bike jerked forward with a cry of exhaust and Lexi held it steady so that she didn't crash. She was going seventy, seventy-five, eighty now. The cop car was gaining fast, 500 yards back, 400, 3, 2. A strangled sob escaped Lexi's throat and she pushed the bike harder. The cruiser's headlights swallowed up the world and shone hot on her back. She imagined she could feel him bare inches behind, his fangs grazing the side of her throat, and she gritted her teeth, willing the Harley to go faster. 90. 95, the needle swept across the speedometer, trembling as it approached one hundred. She tossed a frightened glance over her shoulder and let out a cry of frustration when she saw that the cop was still gaining on her. The cruiser sailed on a cloud of sulfur-smelling fog and though she couldn't be sure, she thought its tires didn't quite touch the ground.
She turned back to the road and leaned over the handlebars like an insistant rider on the back of a lazy horse. She kicked her heels against the bike, as though that would make it run faster, and bore down on the handle bars so hard that her arms quivered. The road dipped and rose and fell over a series of hills and then curved sharply to the left. Lexi reduced her speed and the headlights and engine of the cruiser both swelled. She didn't dare look back, but she knew that he was only a few inches behind her, maybe even a hair's breadth. If she slowed down anymore, he would ram her and she would go flying like a rag doll. If she was lucky, she would be killed instantly. If she wasn't, she would still be alive when he found her and tore out her throat.
The high, burning headlamps of a Mac truck appeared in the opposite lane and Lexi flashed her own headlights. She screamed for help, but the wind ripped it from her mouth, and the truck blasted its horn. It didn't stop, though, it only kept going, the wind displaced by its passage rocking the bike. She didn't have long to worry after her missed chance at salvation: The cruiser's bumper guard tapped the back of the bike and she started to wobble again. Heart in throat, she held on and corrected. The car swung to one side and pulled abreast of her, its movements and speed not of this world. She turned her head and saw him through the passenger window, his dead face bathed in the infernal red glow of the cruiser's dash panel. He flashed an evil, toothy grin. With a flourish, he spun the wheel and tried to ram her, but she had time to hit the brake. The car shot across Lexi's lane and smashed into the guardrail. She swerved to avoid it and blew past.
In no time at all, he was behind her again. The road twisted and turned like a snake. Another Mac truck passed, and again, it kept going, completely ignoring her. She swung back and forth between the lanes in a zigzag pattern, hoping to throw the cop off. He matched her step for step; he laid on the horn, and Lexi jumped. She had to get away but how could she throw him off? He was always right behind her, like a ghost. She couldn't shake him, couldn't get away. She was cursed to be ripped apart just like that poor man in the Toyota. She came to a three way intersection and started to turn, but the cop bumped her again and she almost lost control once more.
Ahead, the WELCOME TO ROYAL WOODS sign loomed out of the forest and Lexi's heart pounded. She didn't know how she knew this, but if she made it into town, she would be safe.
Seconds later, the old green trestle bridge appeared. Beyond it, the lights of Royal Woods.
Gunning the throttle, she tore down the center lane of the highway, heart pounding in suspense. The cruiser's engine screamed and the smell of sulfur assaulted her nose.
Finally, seconds away from being rammed, she crossed the bridge. At the other side, she looked back and then pulled to a screeching stop. The cruiser sat on the opposite side of the burdge, pulled slightly across both lanes, the lights flashing. Lexi panted for air and waited for something to happen, but nothing did. Seconds passed, a minute. The driver door swung open and the cop got out. He glared at her over the top of the car for a long time, then let out a horrible screech and pointed at her. Next time, it seemed to say.
Coming back to herself, Lexi turned around and drove the rest of the way home, getting there ten minutes later. She parked her bike at the curb and sat there for ten whole minutes catching her breath. Her eyes were wide and traumatized and her body shook lightly. When she got off, her knees turned to jelly and she collapsed to the grass. She lay there on her stomach quaking and panting for a few minutes, then she broke down crying.
For years afterward, Lexi would wonder if what she had seen that night was real or just a hallucination. The memory was so clear and fresh in her mind that she couldn't believe that it was anything but real. She refused to drive on Route 12 at night and suffered from panic attacks every time she strayed too close to the bridge. No one ever found the Toyota or the man who came from it, and she knew that the demon cop had eaten him wholesale, bones and all.
Everyone wondered about the change in her personality, but she didn't tell anyone why, not even her own family.
They wouldn't understand.
They would call her crazy.
And deep down, Lexi was afraid of that.
Even more...she was afraid they might be right.