“Would you please stop that?” Stan lifted his head and pushed his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose.“Sorry.” Ray had been going through files after files, taking notes, and began tapping his pen on his notepad. “Nothing makes any sense.”“You’re just chasing bare-backed Jackals.”“Have you seen these photographs?” Ray said standing and slammed the table in anger. “This is not something an animal would do, this is something...” He flopped back into his seat, feeling defeated. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s something.”After receiving all the Silver Springs Farm documents and files from Angie, he scrutinized every detail, dot, and dash. Nothing seemed out of place. Even taxes were up to date - information which he didn’t really need.”“Why don’t you just calm down, go on a coffee run or something, you’ll feel bet

The morning sun shone through a gap in the curtains, squinting his eyes Ray lifted his hand to block the bright light. In his mind, he heard the typical Sunday clanging and banging from the kitchen, sounds of laughing, and the smell of sausages and eggs floating into the bedroom, it consumed him. Turning away from the window he knew it was not real.  Every night his dreams carried the sweet memories of the two most important people that were taken from him.  Pushing himself up, he brushed his hand through his shaggy hair, if his wife were alive she’d be on his case to get a haircut. He knew he had to go see the old woman from that Farm, but right now, it could wait. Time for a jog, he thought. As he was about to leave his phone rang, it was an unknown number. Ray decided to call back after his run, right now the world could wait-for one damn minute of his time.Panting and his chest heaving, Ray thought his time had improved and he felt better; much b

Ray knew there was something not right about this case as he drove en route to Himeville, not even Barry White, singing through the speakers about how wonderful the world was, could convince him otherwise. Thomas Mortuary was only a ten-minute drive away. In his mind, he kept replaying his conversation with Margaret and how quickly her demeanor towards him changed. He couldn’t blame her after the photograph incident, but why had she been so aggressive?  Why was the relationship between her son and Sarah’s mother not in the case file?  The police officer that investigated the case at that time soon retired then passed away eight years later.  What other information was missing? What was he missing?The paled blue signboard bearing Thomas Mortuary in thick black letters had seen better days. Still clearly visible just off Mackenzie street, and not far from the Himeville Nature Reserve.  He found the gravel driv

It was eerily quiet inside the dining hall, the light began to dim as the storm approached, and the usual distant chattering of bird calls was silent. Time seemed to have stopped yet the clock was ticking. Sometime later Margaret’s porters would collect their luggage and take them to the large Guesthouse. With the upcoming storm, she had thought it would be wise to have the three of them stay in the Guesthouse. Those who booked over the weekend had already checked out, leaving just the three of them. Margaret had wanted them to join her for dinner before they left and thought it safer they stay at the Guesthouse rather than return to the cabins during the storm. She hoped it would cheer them up after the disappearance of their friend and vandalism to Joel’s car.On the table, three mugs of coffee remained untouched.  Sarah, Hayley, and Joel sat in silence staring at nothing, thinking of nothing. Hayley’s phone lay on the table as if it were a sickly thi

Joel, Hayley, and Sarah decided to rest before dinner with Margaret. The last few days had been very difficult for all of them, especially for Hayley who was still sobbing over the news of Mark. She had said she needed alone time. Joel and Sarah agreed as they both felt exhausted. Joel was the last to find his room. It was the last room not too far from Sarah. Surprisingly it was different than what he had expected. The wallpaper had an unusual light pale mix of pink and sand, the texture was soft and warm, the sand seemed to give a smooth feel, it felt strange, almost human-like. He ran his hand over his arm and felt chills run down his spine. A built-in dark cupboard, chocolate brown carpet, a small lamp sat on a study desk with a kettle and set up of mugs, sachets of long-life milk, coffee, a variety of teas, and sugar. The bed raised on curved bed legs, puffed-up pillows of white, brown, and cream rested on a patterned duvet of red and brown curvy stripes. Kickin