Chapter Text
Philip Moore was a vile man.
He’d been arrested, charged with felony animal cruelty and suspicion of operating a dog fighting enterprise. He was safely cuffed and hauled away in Wade’s cruiser while Tom did the dirty work of going through the house and all its evidence.
First of all, ‘house’ was a generous term. It seemed more like a barn, with massive rolling doors with not-so-innocuous chained locks to keep it shut. The property itself was very unkept, weeds sprang up nearly as tall as Tom himself, both obscuring the fence lines and creating more barriers itself. The overgrowth also kept the whole place rather hidden, if it weren’t for the need to connect to the road. Yet the yard in front of the barn was all dust and rocks, high traffic areas despite the deep foliage around. Tom made a note to himself to check the property ownership later; who knows who this land actually belonged to.
More obviously concerning were the stakes on the ground, heavy chains at their base. There was a trough of water, thankfully within the high traffic area, but it was stagnant and mossy. Clearly no thought was put into keeping it clean. There was… debris around, sticks chewed to splinters, heavy-duty dog toys meant to last were in near shreds. Tom found more than one suspicious stain in the grass or dirt, the remains of something that was eaten, or the results of a fight.
Tom had Maddie and Billy behind him, the town vet (his wife), and animal control. Between the three of them, they’d get these animals their justice. No animal deserves to be treated like this.
Opening the barn doors, the first thing that hit was the smell. Dogs, even when properly cared for, can get pretty rank. This was on a whole other level. The barn reeked. Of urine, feces, blood, sweat, and a million other things that really were not helping. It didn’t smell like rot, at the very least. Silver linings.
Billy had thrown out a Midwest exclamation about the smell, while Tom and Maddie simply covered their noses at the brunt of it.
The second thing that hit them was the noise. Their entrance had thrown each dog into their own little hurricane of stress, anger, and fear, resulting in a deafening cacophony of misery. The cages rattled with every vicious bark, some clawed at their cage doors while others shifted violently within their confined space. None of them were excited to see three strangers, they couldn’t possibly know they were here to help.
Tom, Maddie, and Bill sure had their work cut out for them.
They had to be careful of course, the dogs were stressed and would continue to be until they were taken from this horrible place and given proper treatment. They went through the dogs one by one, tranquillizing most. Maddie gave them a quick check, cataloging the injuries for Tom’s notes and for herself. Not only was there evidence of fighting, but more cruel treatment. Every dog had scars or wounds that would become scars if left untreated. Some were made by the other dogs, most were made by human tools. All of them wore heavy chain collars, which ranged from easy to take off to bolt cutters. Luckily, Tom brought a pair.
Billy took the stable ones to his truck to transport them back to Green Hills for further treatment. Unfortunately, they wouldn’t be able to stay. Maddie was incredible, but she was no rehabilitation center. One of the bigger cities nearby would have to take care of that, rehome them if they can. They were in rough shape for sure, but he was confident they would recover if given the right homes and treatment.
Needless to say, Philip was racking up quite the rap sheet. He doubted the man was sorry at all. Tom was just glad they caught him, who knows how long he’d been here deep in the Montana woods. Who knows how many different dogs were kept in these cages, how many crossed state lines, how many were beloved pets missing from their loving families, or simply traded one cruel master for another. Who knows how many died, here or in those fights.
Well, the pride cometh before the fall. That’s what his dad always said about real evil— the criminals that feel no guilt, no shame, or fear for the atrocities they commit. If you spend long enough time fighting evil, you find a few patterns. Greed commits the crime, but pride gets them caught. Philip Moore was no different.
He’d gotten cocky; he had taken a dog from Green Hills itself. Like the small town wouldn’t notice if Beatrice’s pit mix that always wore a sweater and greeted everyone with that goofy pit smile went missing. Lacy was found in crate three, the only dog that shifted to excited when met with Maddie. Luckily, she only had light chain wounds and would go home to Beatrice as soon as possible.
While he wasn’t glad Lacy got stolen, he was glad the town noticed. Between eye accounts of shady strangers and unrecognizable cars, they had easy leads to investigate and found the jackpot. Green Hills looks after their own, and this man was doing despicable things in their backyard.
Once it was clear there were only one or two dogs left, Tom left Maddie and Billy to hunt for any paperwork he could find. If he could get documentation of the dogs– hopefully, where he got them from, names, dates, or even a backlog of past ‘products’ sold.
It was clear enough that the fights weren’t hosted here, but the dogs were certainly kept and trained here.
Navigating around the now-empty cages, he heads for the only room in the barn, hopefully an office. It wasn’t locked, though its hinges groaned, and Tom was greeted by a very full room. It was definitely the office, but it also seemed to double as a storage room. The desk was his target, but it was like walking through a maze.
Bags and bags of dog food were piled on the ground, which was infuriating considering the dogs were all half-starved. On top of the dog food were miscellaneous things, extra collars, chains, regular leashes, coats, food wrappers, and a rudimentary gaming setup that felt insulting. There were also copious amounts of beer bottles, full or otherwise, scattered about. Crates were left here and there; if it wasn’t dog food, it was beer.
While possessing and drinking beer wasn’t a crime, Tom would not be surprised at all if these cases were stolen or otherwise illegally procured. Another note for later then. The desk was in the back, behind it were some filing cabinets and what looked to be a small hallway for whatever storage was further back.
Tom made his way through the mess, getting to the paper and beer bottle strewn desk. It was surely everything he needed to get Philip locked away for a long time, and hopefully find his buyers or any other ‘buddies’ in the business. Finding a supplier was good, but it won’t take out the entire system. Depending on whether Philip did in fact go over state lines, this could be quite the federal case. The crimes certainly are.
He hesitated to use the ratty rolling desk chair; it smelled, but as he scanned the top papers, he could see this might take a while. Tom bit the bullet and sat down, the chair making an awful creak as he did so. It was barely comfortable. Ugh. He knows he'll have to bag this all up and take it to the precinct for further analysis, but it would still be nice to get at least some things narrowed down.
Let’s see… he rifled through what he could reach, dismissing credit card mail offers and magazines. Scratch cards were used like coasters under the beer bottles, but even then there were still lottery numbers strewn around. He found a spiral-bound notebook, worn but clean, as if it had been used often rather than left to fester.
Inside it were more numbers, something that was clearly dates, and words that didn’t make any sense. Some kind of code. Bingo. This was probably his biggest piece, unless he could find anything more damning. There were even sticky notes about, pinned to the desk in a similar code. He put them all in one spot, this he would definitely be taking back with him. Now if he could get receipts…
He turned to the filing cabinets, quickly getting off the gross chair and invigorated by the good find. He pulled open the first drawer, heavy with paper. Rifling through them, he found they were registration papers for his car, for… a lot of cars actually. These would be good to keep, along with the clear tax papers. It wasn’t exactly legal to say your profession and income were dog-fighting-based, so fraud was definitely on the table. But nothing told him about where else this guy would go, who he’d meet up with– clients or otherwise.
He pulled open the next drawer, the clattering inside making him realize it wasn’t full of paper this time. He stared down at a drawer full of old cell phones, burner phones. They might not have traceable information, but they were evidence of something. Definitely coming with him. He’d have to get a bag, which was in his cruiser; he can get it later when he’s done with the initial search.
The next drawer held more papers; these seemed to be invoices, bulk orders of dog food, bully toys, but also something that looked a lot like something Maddie would recognize more than him. Was he drugging the dogs too?! Oddly enough, there were equipment catalogs in this drawer too, perhaps a return buyer for the cages that eventually wore out.
All at once, he stalled, attention completely gone from the paper he’d just been engrossed in.
Something was off.
The barn wasn’t exactly silent, but without the dogs, it was much quieter. He could even hear the murmur of Maddie and Billy dealing with the last dog in the larger room. What caught his attention was the sound of movement that didn’t match a source.
Tom waited for another moment, eyes shifting without moving his body.
There it is again. Chains rattling, shifting like something pulled at it, or dragged it across something else.
The concerning part was that it wasn’t coming from behind him, where Maddie and Billy were. Tom slowly stood up, carefully looking around to see if he saw any movement to accompany the sound.
Softer this time, just a slight scuff of chain. It couldn’t be anything mechanical like the doors, it was too… organic. It was coming from in front of him, behind the cabinet. There was more storage back there, and -checking the wall- it even had its own light switch.
He flipped it on, eyes already scanning for movement as the bare bulbs above flickered and buzzed.
He still couldn’t see anything moving, though he noticed the storage back here was more barn-type than in front. Rakes hung on the walls, storage shelving filled with gloves, buckets, and other gardening-type tools. Between it all was another small, open dirt space and a rather large box-shape covered by a blanket.
Maybe it was raccoons, he thought to himself, barn cats even- however unlikely.
This time the sound came with some quiet panting, the quick breathing of an animal. Coming from what he had previously assumed to be a box. Despite himself, he relaxed, recontextualizing the sounds as simply a dog shifting around in an enclosed space. Though he did wonder why this dog was left alone in the back with a blanket draped over it instead of with the others.
He approached the cage as he mentally drummed up some ideas. Special treatment perhaps? Bad behavior? Or good behavior? A personal pet, maybe? Or maybe a champion in the fights?
He was hesitant to take the blanket off, knowing some animals kept docile when covered— or was that birds of prey that were all calm with their eyes covered? Either way, he compromised by slowly pulling the blanket off to one side.
The dog flinched anyway, a jolt that echoed through the rattling metal cage.
A similar shiver ran down Tom’s spine.
Because… that’s not a dog.
Despite his initial rush of fear, Tom cocked his head, trying to understand what he was seeing. Because it was clearly something, even if he didn’t know what it was yet.
Whatever it was, it was furry, except it seemed to also have giant quills like a porcupine, all stood up and spread out. It was definitely the size of a normal dog, but under the grime of dirt it was clearly blue of all things. Did the bastard dye this poor animal?
The poor thing was shivering, huddled up in a curl of limbs, paws over its eyes and ears pinned flat against its head. What caught Tom’s attention was the heavy metal chain coming from what he had to assume was the animal’s neck, leading to the corner of the cage where it had been bolted through the cage into the earth below it. Even if the cage were to be opened, the animal wouldn't be able to leave. Not to mention, there were multiple locks on the cage that were boarded up, preventing anything from the inside from fiddling with the padlocks.
That seemed… excessive. An escape artist? Too aggressive to control? Whatever it was, it clearly wasn’t part of the dog-fighting ring, considering it wasn’t a dog. Tom’s bet was on a really messed-up porcupine, or maybe a badger with extremely bad fur.
Either way, it was still an animal that needed help.
He crouched down next to the cage, though just that movement made the animal tense up. Dirty paws pressed tighter over its face, and it released a near-silent whine.
“Hey, little guy,” he started gently, knowing that even if the animal turned aggressive, it wasn’t out of any real choice, so neither was being gentle.
It moved at his voice, a jolt upwards this time, revealing massive eyes.
The shiver down his spine returned like a bucket of ice dumped over his head.
Its pupils were oval-shaped, but vertical, a ring of green surrounding them.
It was like a wave of dread, of wrongness, fear so potent and raw it made him drop all pretenses.
He jumped to his feet, putting distance between himself and the… thing. “What the—!”
Adrenaline raced through his veins, though he couldn’t move. He stared, but the creature didn’t make any more sense than it had before.
Everything felt wrong about that- those eyes. They were- they were huge, the size of the palm of his hand! There was so much white, unlike animal eyes that were 90% pupil; these felt human, but it couldn’t possibly be. Humans don’t have vertically oval eyes the size of an entire palm each.
He swallowed dryly, coming to the inevitable conclusion.
That wasn’t human, that wasn’t animal.
It was back to cowering, emitting small whines that were so similar to a dog's yet so so foreign. Whatever primal, hind-brain instincts Tom had said this thing was a threat.
What is this thing?!
“Maddie!?” Tom called, backing up even farther but refusing to let the creature out of his sight. He kept his hand on his sidearm, not yet drawing his weapon.
But feeling the hilt in his hand brought him back a little bit. His chest was heaving with breaths too short and panicked, his body feeling tied to the ground despite every nerve ending yelling at him to run. Risking a glance down, his hands were actually shaking.
He was… really freaked out.
Part of being a cop was being the calmest person in the room when it all goes sideways. This was much farther than sideways, but panicking wasn’t going to do him any favors if he actually had to make some rational decisions. Lives could be on the line.
He needed to calm down, as much as it felt like there was something insanely dangerous in the room with him, it was locked up. It wasn’t acting aggressively, he was watching. Nobody is in danger. It’s not doing anything. Not yet, at least.
Tom lifted his hand off his weapon, slowly and carefully, as if the creature across the room in a cage would lunge at him for the movement. It did not, nor did it seem to be even looking at him.
See? Fine. Totally fine. He’s got everything he can control under control. Maybe he can’t anticipate what this thing will do but he’ll at least face it with a level head.
He practiced slow, deliberate, deep breaths while he waited for Maddie, tracking her by sound. His chest still felt tight, and his body was buzzing with adrenaline, but at least he was getting oxygen to his brain.
“What is it Tom?” Maddie called, making her way through the office. Her brows knit at his clear distress. “Did you find something? Another dog?”
“Whatever that thing is, it’s not a dog,” Tom said, pointing to the half-revealed cage.
Maddie gave him a disapproving look, unimpressed with his assessment. “Alright, let’s see.”
It wasn’t until she moved past him that he realized he was letting his wife get close to that thing.
He put himself between her and the cage, “Hold on- let me go with you.” He said, hoping she didn’t see his hand on his holster. Maddie looked down at the movement, face scrunching.
Unfortunately, she noticed.
“Tom, what on earth?” She shook her head at him, “Even if it’s not a dog, it’s just a scared animal. What are you so freaked out about?”
“It’s not a dog,” Tom stressed, unsure how to explain it, unsure how she wasn’t getting it. “It’s blue Maddie, with weird spikes coming out of it.”
Maddie rolled her eyes, “The poor thing must be way more abused than the others if it got dyed.”
Tom felt his heart squeeze in terror again. She didn’t understand. “Its eyes— they’re not normal.”
“Well, I’m going to need to take a look either way,” Maddie said, getting that look in her eye that said she was not budging on this. “Hover if you want, but let me take care of it. This is what I’m here for.”
Tom couldn’t argue, he did literally ask her to come look at it. He sighed in frustration, or just plain stress, and nodded. She’ll understand when she sees it.
Like dealing with the other dogs, she gave the cage a wide berth at first, getting on her knees a few feet away from the cage. She leaned up and to the side, trying to get a good view of the… thing. After a few seconds, her lips pursed. “I can’t see it very well.”
Tom took a steadying breath. He went up to the cage, despite how much he didn’t want to. The thing was squeaking, a rapid sound that almost sounded like bird song, but it was clearly whining, panting, all things Tom recognized as something stressed and scared animals do. Maybe… maybe he overreacted, he saw it wrong or something. They’ll see it better in the light, uncovered.
He grabbed the blanket, pulling it all the way off the cage.
The creature flinched with a squeak, trying to hide itself in its own limbs.
Maddie gasped, flinching back just as hard as he had earlier with a quick breathless, “oh my god.” She seemed to recover quickly, coming forward to stand next to him in front of the cage, staring wide-eyed down at the… thing.
It’s definitely blue, whatever it is. The brown mixed in its fur was clearly dirt and other muck. It had big triangle ears pressed down against its head, its very round head. Its eyes were cinched shut, its whole body trembling, panting in a way that sounded a whole lot more like hyperventilating.
“Oh my god,” Maddie said again, grabbing onto his arm. “Tom- what is that?!”
Seeing it a second time, Tom felt more prepared— though it being non-aggressive or the fact that it's in a cage didn’t hurt either.
“Could it be a bear?” Tom asked. Probably a bear cub, all things considered, but bear was honestly a stretch.
“No, no, those are quills,” Maddie said, gesturing to the creatures’ back in stumped exasperation. “Things with quills don’t get this big, Tom.”
Tom tilted his head, still trying to make heads or tails of this thing. Maybe if he looked at it hard enough, it would make sense.
The quills kinda looked like a mane, just stiff and standing upright in clumps. The quills were shifting with its shaking, creating a rustling sound not unlike wind in the trees, or maybe a rattlesnake. It was still hard to tell some things, though, curled up and dirty as it was, hiding its face and underbelly, even its paws were hard to spot.
“Whatever it is,” Maddie continued with a frown, “it’s really stressed.”
As if on cue, the creature whined, shrill and sad.
Maddie crouched down, getting more on level with the thing. She laid a hand carefully on the cage for her own balance, leaning around to see the creature better. She scowled, leaning back, finding the excessive amount of locks.
“Go get the bolt cutters.” Maddie requested suddenly, flicking a hand back towards the main room.
Tom blinked, “What?”
“For the locks,” Maddie said, like that explained why she wanted to release the weird, probably abused creature into the room with them. This has gotta be several starts to some sci-fi horror films or something.
“We are not letting that thing out,” Tom said firmly, throwing a hand towards the shivering figure in the cage. “We still have no idea what it is! What it could do to us!”
“It’s an abused animal in pain, and I’m a vet,” Maddie argued back just as firmly, “I can’t see what I’m working with if it’s curled up in the corner.”
Tom was silent for a moment, thinking. They would have to move it eventually anyway, it might as well be unconscious for it. They even had all the tools to do so.
“Okay, but we’re tranq’ing it.” He said with a nod.
Maddie nodded back, eyes still on the beast, “The dosages we gave the dogs should work, its body size doesn’t seem too dissimilar.”
Tom took a step back, loath to leave his wife alone with the weird creature. “Just… don’t do anything stupid. We’ve seen movies, we’re smarter than that.”
Maddie cracked a weak smile, waving him off. “You got it, Sheriff, be quick.”
Tom nodded once, satisfied, and took off out of the room. He definitely intended to be quick.
Walking purposefully into the rest of the barn, Tom looked for Billy. He snagged his bolt cutters here, having used them for the cages out here, resting atop one of the last ones they’d found.
Though now that he thought about it, what would they do with it? Move it where? Could they hand it off to Billy? But… what would animal control do with this thing? Probably just kill it, right? It’s an affront to nature, a freak experiment, or something.
That didn’t feel right, even though looking at the thing still made him wildly uncomfortable; it didn’t deserve to die just for existing. It hadn’t done anything. He’ll have to talk to Maddie about this, but one thing at a time.
He found Billy outside, leaning against his truck and smoking.
“Heya, Sheriff,” Billy greeted, though he didn’t smile, not that Tom felt like smiling either. “Didja get everything ya needed to get this guy locked away?”
“Just about,” Tom answered. The question actually did remind him that he had found quite a bit of good evidence, he was just… distracted. “Hey, quick question, do you have any of those tranq’s left?”
Billy arched a brow, “Sure do.” He threw his cigarette to the ground, snubbing it with his shoe. Tom would be a little miffed at that normally, but it’s not like it would make any difference in this dump, there was already trash everywhere.
“Do you mind if I borrow one?” Tom asked, wincing as he realized he probably needed to come up with a lie or something to keep Billy from coming to check.
“Find another one?” Billy sounded both disappointed and relieved, a reasonable reaction really. He also shoved off the side of the truck, circling it to his tool cabinet.
“Yeah,” Tom said, following behind him. Admittedly, he only felt a little bad for the lie he was telling. “Maddie and I will take care of this one, it’s a… delicate situation. So you’re good to go, Billy. This one… might not make it.” He grimaced at his own words, realizing how easy it would be to have this creature simply disappear.
The man sighed for real, handing over his tranq gun. “Aight, I trust Maddie ta know what ta do, if she thinks it’s a good idea then go for it.” Billy was already packing up, climbing into the driver's seat of his truck, “Heaven knows these poor dogs could use some mercy.”
“I’ll get this back to you,” Tom said, gesturing with the tranq gun.
“Bah,” he scoffed, waving a hand dismissively, “I got plenty back in my office, don’t feel no rush.”
“Thanks,” Tom nodded, stepping back and waving as Billy turned on his truck. Billy lifted a hand back and started backing out, Tom took that as his cue to go back inside.
He rushed for the office, weaving through the stupidly cluttered room. Maddie was still kneeling on the ground, peering through the cage with that pensive gaze. The creature was in the same place it had been in before. Nothing happened while he was gone then.
“Alright, got it,” Tom said, lifting his full hands to show off his success.
“Great.” Maddie said, looking up with a slight grimace, “We might need those bolt cutters for another collar.”
Of course the creature was chain collared, why wouldn’t it be? It’s not that he forgot he saw the chain earlier, it just… had a lower priority over whatever the hell this thing was.
Tom set the bolt cutters on a nearby shelf, but he glanced at Maddie first, “meaty area, right?”
“Just try not to hit any thin areas,” she suggested as she shuffled back to give him some room. “Or bones.”
“Right,” Tom said, only slightly sarcastic under his breath, “like I know this thing's physiology.”
Stepping closer to the cage, he continued louder, “Okay little guy, sleepy time.”
He cocked the gun with a loud click, which caused the creature to freeze.
Its ears went up on alert, head lifting and eyes bursting open. Tom clocked Maddie’s shocked jerk backwards, realizing she was seeing its eyes finally, but Tom had to move quick.
It was moving now, like it knew it was being targeted. Tom didn’t have time to second-guess himself; the moment he saw an opening, he took it.
Aiming at its briefly available thigh, Tom pulled the trigger.
It hit with a thunk, and the animal yelped, scrambling back. It froze for a moment, massive eyes landing on the dart in its leg. Then the thing… writhed?
It moved fast. It was hard to track what it did exactly, but the canister was flung out of the cage. Maddie yelped and sat back to avoid getting hit, both of them watching as it clattered against the far wall.
Tom and Maddie met each other's wide-eyed stare.
“…do you think it’ll still work?” Tom asked, frowning.
“We can only wait and see.” She shrugged; they both looked back at the creature.
It was curled up again, over its leg, but it was staring back at them. Its teeth were bared, but it wasn’t growling or hissing. It seemed to be… crying?
Tom had seen animals cry before, most weren’t capable so it took some real work to get an animal to make that sort of thing happen. This was like… real crying. Its massive eyes were glossy, unnerving as they were to look at, it was impossible to deny the fear in them. Tears gathered under its eyes and then spilled, trailing down its muzzle. Its muzzle was tan, or perhaps a peach color, though there seemed to be a mark under its right eye, trailing down. The tears dampened the fur, turning it dark, before falling to the ground in little splots.
This was twisting his gut in a very uncomfortable way he wasn’t sure he’d actually experienced before. Yet another primal instinct told him to yell or hit the cage to get it to stop, but that wouldn’t actually help. He was a cop; he was better than those instincts, but he was still surprised by their presence.
Maddie sucked in a sharp breath, also not unaffected by the crying, but in a different way than Tom. She lifted a hand to the cage, talking gently to soothe the poor thing. “Oh sweetheart-“
Except her movement made the creature flinch again. It backed away from her hand, pushing itself further away into a different corner, still crying. It’s back arched up, quills on full display. Its lips were peeled back in a snarl, except it just made its face look even more broken and devastated.
For once, Tom wasn’t afraid, this poor animal just—
It was glowing.
The creature was glowing blue.
Between its quills it started sparking. It threaded between them, sizzling off like a Tesla coil. It rushed down its fur, then its eyes started glowing too.
Tom was moving before he spoke.
“Maddie, get back!”
He grabbed his wife by the shoulder and yanked her back just as the energy surged.
He held Maddie close as the blue lightning snapped across the metal cage. The wires flashed like a live circuit, engulfing everything in a flickering blue glow.
The hair on the back of Tom’s neck stood up, his stomach flipping as he realized the air was filled with static charge. Like ozone, like a tiny, extremely volatile storm in a cage in front of them.
Tom’s head shot up as the orange bulb of the room began to buzz, blue sparks flashing around it, threatening to burst it. He shuffled back, still holding Maddie, in any attempt to get away from what the fuck was happening- was it shooting lightning at them?!
It raced across the metal, every conductive surface lighting up in a violent blue web. Along the bars, the chains— the chain leading up to its neck.
“Oh my god!” Maddie covered her mouth in horror.
The lightning surged straight into the collar of chain.
The animal screamed.
It collapsed to the floor, body convulsing violently. Its limbs locked up, every movement it forced looking painful. It only managed to claw at the ground, though it kept reaching for its neck.
The buzzing ramped up, louder as the creature screamed in pain. There was something sharp in the air now— something burnt.
Until it all snapped out at once.
The electricity vanished and the cage went dark.
The last few stray sparks fizzled out around the creature’s quills.
The very still and unmoving creature.
“…Tom?”
Maddie held onto his shirt, voice wavering, thick with emotion Tom couldn’t place but felt was lodged in his throat too.
The barn felt eerily silent now, without the creature’s quick panting and shuffling.
Tom let out a shaky breath.
…Was it dead?