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  • Writer's pictureIdyll Adventurer

Monster Hunting: E is for Enfield Monster

Disclaimer: The Enfield Monster of Enfield, Illinois is a real occurrence. While this story references and is based off that occurrence, it is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and the modern incident are a product of the author's imagination and used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, live or dead, is entirely coincidental.


August 28th, 2018

Sometimes you have to really dig for a case. See, the dark things that walk among us pretty frequently sweep things under the rug and can be difficult to suss out. Sure, some repeat murders or disappearances are telltale signs that it’s something up my alley, but other times it’s just quiet.

Gives me time to research and look into things that might be something worth my gas and effort. Things like the Enfield Monster or Enfield horror incident. This is something that’s piqued my interest for a while now, but I haven’t had the time (or more accurately, been in the area without something else more pressing) to look into it.

Alright: back in the ‘70s a guy saw something weird outside of his house, peering into his window. Goes out, shoots at it, and it hisses in pain as it runs off into a nearby railyard. Guy and the sheriff search the area and find nothing but some tracks that look like a large dog.

Guy reported he saw something with three legs and two short arms that could cover 50 feet in just a couple leaps. He was confident enough in what he saw that he told several journalists and even did a radio interview about it.

Fast forward a couple of months and a group of monster hunters are in Enfield. They’re out in the boonies and firing off guns that get the attention of the local law enforcement. They’re told to knock it off and leave.

A paper was even written about this thing and cited as a case study in social contagion where one reported even spawned other folk to think they saw something. The report was written and published in the late ‘70s and that’s where the trail goes cold.

Maybe the monster hunters nabbed it 40 years ago. Maybe things’ve simply been covered up since then. I’ve got the spare time and I’m nearby so, what’s the worst that happens as I check into things myself?


August 30th, 2018

Smaller than I expected. I don’t know why I had a small metropolis in my mind, but this town practically screams quaint. Anyways, I’ve started digging into this mystery. Plenty of folk know about the horror but few are willing to share more than the original story. Admittedly, I haven’t been able to talk with a firsthand witness. Not that I really expected to. I’ll be digging into the local news archives tomorrow and seeing if I can track down where exactly this railyard is.

Or where the other hunters ended up finding this thing way back when. That might be a better course of action, come to think of it. Unfortunately enough, it means I need to see if I can figure out a different direction for getting into the sheriff’s files since there’s not an active investigation where I can pretend to be Big Brother government visiting.

Words and paper. The hunter’s life is truly glamorous.


August 31st, 2018

Well. That was surprisingly easy. I walked in with my press pass, saying I was putting together a magazine article on the monster. I was given reports a plenty, all filled with jargon, and they included photos.

While easy to attain, there wasn’t a lot there that I didn’t already know. It lends itself to the feeling that something is being hidden here. Of course, the record of the hunters being run off was suitably missing.

That isn’t to say that I wasn’t able to find anything though. While the stacks of paper didn’t give me anything, I also stopped by the town’s paper office. I appreciate the quaintness of the place and a good microfiche machine.

I couldn’t get copies, but there’s been more sightings of the monster here. There have been at least half a dozen coverups and that’s just the ones with a news article to go with it. I’ll be tacking the notes I took into here later.


GO. AWAY.

NOW.

September 2nd, 2018

Well that’s weird. All my notes were stolen. Something smashed the lock on my motel room. Not sure what’s up, but the legal proceedings cost me a day or investigation. I’m in a different motel now and laying out extra protections. At this rate I’ll need to visit a church for more holy water and blessed salt.


September 3rd, 2018

It’s not gone. I spotted it last night staring in my window. It’s not often I regret not having a second-floor room (I like the escape options on the first floor). I dashed outside and the thing stared at me as though it wanted to be caught.

It was just as I’d read: a tripodal, soft-grey skinned creature. It was squat, and hunched over with short, almost stubby arms that ended in three-digit hands. It was hairless with large eyes. Definitely not akin to hardly anything I’ve tracked down before, though that Faery I tackled sure came close.

I chased it off with a knife since I didn’t want to end up like the hunters back in the ‘70’s.



I. LET. YOU.













LIVE.

GET. OUT.












September 4th, 2018

It comes around at night. And I can confirm the alacrity of the creature. It cleared, easily, 50 feet in a single bound and I get the feeling it is haunting me even as I record this. It hasn’t stayed still long enough for me to stab it and I still don’t want to go shooting while in the presence of the general public, but I know this thing is menacing. I could feel it just looking at it. Some things give off an aura of bad and this had it.


THERE. WILL.

BE. MORE.

September 5th, 2018

Harry Steinfeld, the guy at the news office who let me peruse the microfiche was found dismembered in his office this morning. The front door was smashed open. No suspects.

I think this was my creature. After decades of quiet, I think my presence has set this thing off.


GET. OUT.














YOU. NOT.

WELCOME. HERE.












September 6th, 2018

The sticky notes I use to add some flavor to my journal or after the fact thoughts have appeared with someone else’s

I. GOD. HERE.

PEACEFUL.


LEAVE.


YOUR. PROTECTION.















NOT. SAVE. THEM.














I don’t take threats lightly.

NO. THREAT.

PROMISE.

September 7th, 2018

The creature, I refuse to call it a god, rattled my window and door for most of last night. I am loathe to say that I didn’t go outside to face it. I don’t know what it is and my knife seems a little inadequate. It left a couple hours before dawn.

TELL. OTHERS.

STAY. OUT.


NO. HARM.

JUST. FUN.

September 9th, 2018

I’m on my way out of Enfield. It’s early morning and, I

I don’t like losing. Never have, but that thing ate my bullets. Both regular and silver and iron. It stood there and stared at me and I knew it was waiting for me to realize there wasn’t anything I could do.

If you’re future me, hopefully you’re better educated with some way to tackle the Enfield Monster. If you’re a hunter friend: STAY OUT OF ENFIELD.

Let the spookiness pervade on its own. The god there wills it.


If you would like to read more about the Enfield Monster

incident that inspired this story, you can find the Wikipedia

entry here: Enfield Monster.

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