Chapter 149: Blood-Sucking Monster (2)

Later, people examined the corpses of the dead chickens from the farm, full of suspicion. They found a large number of wounds resembling the shapes of “Y” or “△” on their necks, under their wings, and near the cloaca.

Someone who knew a forensic examiner brought a dead chicken to ask for their opinion. The examiner said the wounds looked somewhat like leech bites, but couldn’t be certain—because leech bites are usually only 1 to 3 millimeters wide, while the wounds on the chickens were about the size of a thumb. There was absolutely no such large leech.

That person then asked the examiner to perform an autopsy on the chicken. The result showed that the chickens hadn’t died from the bites themselves, but from excessive blood loss.

“It’s said that animals that die from blood loss will have grayish-white internal organs when dissected. The day after all the chickens on that farm died, the rabbits on the neighboring farm also died. The farmer counted the bodies—none were missing—and found similar round wounds on them, just like the chickens. Still doubtful, he randomly chose one dead rabbit and dissected it, only to discover that its internal organs were also pale white…”

In the period that followed, this kind of large-scale livestock death spread rapidly to nearby farms, almost like a contagion.

At first, it was only small poultry like chickens, ducks, and rabbits dying in small numbers, so the losses weren’t too severe. But as time went on, the attacker’s appetite seemed to grow.

Small animals were no longer enough to satisfy it. Instead, sheep, goats, pigs, cattle, and even horses on the farms began to die to varying degrees. The cause of death remained the same as with the poultry—excessive blood loss.

But damn it—aside from leeches, what kind of animal feeds on blood?

The more people thought about it, the more terrifying it became. Rumors began to spread, claiming that some kind of blood-sucking monster was behind the attacks.

“After so many animals died, didn’t the farmers think about strengthening their defenses?” Misha asked.

Quilla nodded. “Of course they did.”

Winter was usually the off-season for farms. People only needed to visit every so often—refill the feed troughs, clean the pens, and occasionally let the livestock out for a walk. Unlike other seasons, there was no need for constant supervision of animals and crops.

So, many farmers would choose to leave their farms during winter, returning to homes in towns or villages to reunite with family, or even traveling elsewhere to take on temporary jobs and earn some extra money.

But after the livestock attacks began, worried about their own farms suffering losses, farmers in the surrounding areas packed up and moved back to their farms. Armed with handguns, they kept watch day and night.

“Even with such tight security, they still got hit?”

“Yes—that’s what makes this so strange. When the blood-sucking monster invades, it seems to make no noise at all. Even its hunting is completely silent. It’s said that some farmers, unable to sleep at night, patrolled outside the livestock sheds several times with guns in hand and found nothing unusual. But the next morning, when they opened the shed door, all the sheep inside were already dead.”

“That’s kind of terrifying.”

“Yeah, fortunately—” The Native American girl had been chatting enthusiastically when a shout suddenly came from the distance, interrupting her.

“Quilla! There’s a ewe about to give birth—come help!”

“Hey, coming!” Quilla stood on tiptoe and shouted back, then waved at the two girls. “Want to watch a ewe give birth? Come with me—newborn lambs are really interesting.”

Without waiting for Everly’s response, she grabbed both Everly and Misha by the hands and led them to a separate birthing shed prepared for the ewe.

The scene of the birth was somewhat bloody. It was said that the ewe was giving birth for the first time, so the whole process was long and painful.

With Quilla’s patient assistance and soothing, after nearly half an hour, the ewe finally managed to give birth to a lamb.

However, when the exhausted ewe used her tongue to lick away the white fetal membrane covering the lamb’s body, what appeared before everyone was not the “interesting little lamb” Quilla had described, but a dying, malformed creature.

The black lamb lying within the membrane had a spine twisted into an S-shape, and a horrifying eight hooves. Dense clusters of legs protruded from beneath its ribs, abdomen, and joints, sticking out under its body, making it look less like a mammal and more like a giant spider.

Despite having so many legs, they were clearly unable to support its body. The lamb lay on the ground, paddling its hooves as if swimming, yet it couldn’t manage to stand up.

Its skull was also deformed. Its left eye had sunk downward into a basin-like hollow, with no eyeball inside, while the right eye socket had shifted from the side of its head to the center of its face. Inside that socket, a large yellow eyeball with a square pupil stared blankly, silently meeting the gaze of everyone present.

Malformations like this usually mean the newborn cannot survive long, dying soon due to various physical defects. This black lamb was no exception. Like a spider stunned senseless, it lay in the membrane, feebly scraping its hooves for a moment before going still.

The ewe bleated mournfully, pressing her forehead against the lamb and nudging it several times, but the lamb did not move.

Quilla cautiously reached out and felt near the lamb’s nose, then turned to the others. “It’s dead.”

“By the Sacred Tree… a deformed black goat—this is clearly an ill omen… Quilla, take it away quickly and bring it to the priest for inspection!” Among the crowd, Karl looked at the dead lamb with deep worry, issuing instructions to his younger daughter.

“Alright, got it!”

Without bothering to wipe the blood from her hands, Quilla grabbed a dirty cloth from the side, wrapped the dead lamb in it, nodded apologetically to Everly and Misha, then stood up with the body in her arms and hurried out of the shed.

The birth of the deformed lamb seemed to have violated some taboo of the Winton people.

During the ewe’s labor, besides Karl’s family and the three visitors, a few hospitable villagers were present. After these villagers left, the news quickly spread throughout the village. Everywhere one went, Native villagers whispered and exchanged glances, their expressions tinged with a mix of seriousness and worry as they frequently glanced toward the nearby reservation.

Fortunately, the common trope seen in movies—blaming outsiders for disasters—did not occur. When the villagers saw Old John and the others, their attitude remained friendly; they still greeted and chatted with the guests warmly.

“Sorry you had to witness such a frightening scene… the ewe was giving birth for the first time, so perhaps the lamb didn’t develop properly,” Karl said apologetically, trying to calm the three visitors, then led them back to the cabin.

Old John patted his friend on the shoulder, signaling that he wasn’t worried.

Everly and Misha had already seen sea monsters and stitched-together corpses, so a mere malformed lamb did not frighten them.

What concerned Everly more was Karl’s comment about an “ill omen.”

Horror Movie Survival Rule #1: pay attention to the hints.

Before coming here, they had already encountered news of livestock dying mysteriously. At Karl’s farm, they had now witnessed a ewe giving birth to a deformed lamb, and the Native villagers’ expressions had changed dramatically… In the world of horror films, coincidences don’t exist, and Everly strongly suspected a connection between the two events.

Unfortunately, perhaps because of their white outsider status, when Everly tried to ask what “ill omen” meant, she was met with Karl’s tightly controlled expression.

“It’s nothing serious… don’t worry, Everly. With the priest here, this place is safe,” he said vaguely, brushing the matter aside, clearly signaling that he did not want Everly to probe further.

Alright, since the host had taken that attitude, it would be impolite for a white guest to press further.

After all, they still needed the villagers’ cooperation, and nothing so far had triggered any crisis warnings. Everly wisely put aside her doubts and, together with Misha, steered the conversation back toward local customs and daily life.

The rest of the time passed pleasantly, though Quilla didn’t return from wherever she had gone until dinner ended. The reservation wasn’t large—walking around it even once shouldn’t take that long.

Could she have been held back by the priest? But why… was that malformed lamb really so troublesome?

Everly returned to her room, still puzzled.

Karl’s cabin was large, with generously sized rooms. As a guest, Everly was assigned a private bedroom.

That night, after washing up, she sat on the bed for a while, thinking, then opened her contacts list and called her old friend Rebecca.

“A blood-sucking monster? A deformed lamb? Whether the two are connected, I can’t say—I’ve never heard of a monster causing birth defects… But if you just want to know what monsters feed on blood, I can give you a rundown.”

“Then tell me what you know.”

“There are countless legendary creatures that survive by drinking blood—vampires, Strigoi, Banshees, Aluca, Chupacabras, Krasue, GongGoi, zombies… I could go on for a long list. Many of them aren’t picky—they attack humans but won’t pass up the blood of livestock either. Does the monster you saw have any specific features?”

Everly thought for a moment and added a condition: “Someone checked the livestock corpses. The wounds were Y-shaped or △-shaped. That’s all the information we have, no one has actually seen the monster yet. People don’t even know if it’s round or flat.”

“That’s going to be tricky. You know, most of these creatures exist only in legend, and there are very few eyewitnesses. So the information people have is usually limited to their physical appearance. As for the shape of their wounds, that can only be determined up close. I can’t say for sure what exactly attacked the farm animals.”

“Could you describe each of the monsters you mentioned to me?” Everly pulled out a voice recorder and set up her notebook on the table.

“Yes, of course…”

Rebecca went through the blood-sucking creatures that might attack livestock one by one, giving Everly a detailed and patient description of each. At the end, she added, “Based on firsthand sightings; some parts may be fabricated,” which left Everly completely bewildered.

The call had gone on so long that by the time Everly finished organizing her notes and prepared to go to bed, it was already past midnight.

Before turning off the lights, she walked to the window, drew the curtain aside, and looked out.

In the U.S., houses aren’t strictly built “facing south”; the orientation is chosen flexibly based on road layouts, surrounding environment, and scenic features.

Everly’s bedroom was near the back door of the cabin, with the window facing south. Beyond the backyard and a road, she could see Karl’s farm. Rural areas had few streetlights, and tonight some snow was falling, making everything outside pitch black.

The farm where the livestock deaths had occurred was also to the south, but at least ten kilometers away—far enough that it shouldn’t be affected anytime soon… She hoped everything would go smoothly over the next few days, without any major disruptions.

After standing quietly for a moment, Everly closed the curtains and turned back to the soft, large bed.

Because the room was lit, she didn’t notice that the moment the curtain was drawn, a long-hidden humanoid shadow, with limbs thin and rod-like, silently climbed past her window…

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Author’s Note:

Native American Reservations: Regulations vary widely depending on the location—tribal rules, state laws, and so on. Some reservations are strictly managed, requiring outsiders to apply for entry. Others have effectively become tourist areas. Under federal law, certain activities that might be illegal elsewhere are often permitted on reservations, such as gambling, cultivating certain plants like spinach, or even growing some psychoactive plants—some Native Americans make a living this way. Overall, however, the treatment of Native Americans is less favorable than that of Black Americans. This is mainly because the Black population is much larger, while Native Americans make up less than 1% of the total population. With so few votes, there is very little political attention paid to them.