The Fox and the Killer

You know what? I don’t think I was expecting this. I definitely wasn’t expecting this. I just had to follow him. I mean, who wouldn’t? It’s not every day you see a man drag a large, plastic-wrapped thing through the woods. You know, I heard about a rabbit who saw a similar thing many years ago, maybe it’s that same person? Or maybe someone heard about it and thought they’d give it a go. Difference here, it seems, is that this person is taking a large bin liner into the woods, whereas the rabbit claimed to see another human.

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Strange what humans do when you think about it. They have legs but decided to ride those noisy, metal monsters. They have mouths but spend most of their time looking at their bright, shiny brick-thing and can have a whole conversation with themselves, apparently talking to the bright, shiny brick-thing. But this human isn’t doing any of that. He is dragging this bin liner quite a distance, and I've only been following him for a short while. Luckily, it's dark so I don’t think he’s seen me, and even if he has, there’s not much he can do. I'm much faster than him and I know this area well.

Oh, he’s stopped. He’s dropped the thing he’s dragging. It definitely looks heavy. He looks as though he’s in pain, probably from dragging it so far. It's been quite a trek for him, it seems. Now, he’s taking a shovel from the plastic-thing and is beginning to dig. Maybe he’s making the thing a burrow? The rabbit said that the other human did a similar thing and that they only dug down a metre or two before rolling the human in. I'm interested to see what—

Wait! He’s stopped. How far down has he gone? Damn, guess I won't find out. He’s placed the shovel down and is turning to the plastic-thing. What’s going on? He’s leaned against it, holding one side very tightly. Maybe the pain’s come back? Oh, he’s lifted his head. Are those tears? Why is he crying?

“I'm sorry,” I hear. “I'm so sorry.” What’s he sorry for? Did he not want to bury this thing? Maybe it is a human and he’s wrapped it so it can be opened later. “I never meant to hurt you, Sally. I never meant to let things go too far.” Oh, it’s a woman in the plastic-thing. That makes sense. I usually see men and women together in the houses’ gardens I go to. There’s something rather nice about watching two humans talk in their homes while you scurry around for your hunt that night.

Hold on, he’s moving again. He’s rolling the human over into the pit. Still don’t know why she’s wrapped up in that. He keeps repeating that he’s sorry but I don’t think she can hear. Must be the plastic getting in the way. She’s fell into the pit with a thud and a rustle of plastic and he stood, grabbing the shovel again. He starts to pile dirt back over. I hope she can still breathe while she’s under all that dirt, but a shame if she suffocated and died. I'm sure that’s not what they want.

I move myself around a little more, now seeing the moonlight behind him. He’s looking very ominous as a silhouette. Ooh, very spooky. He would look great at that time of year when people dressed weirdly and ask strangers for candy. He pats the dirt once it's all piled back up and stands up straight. I can't see his face anymore. I move forward a little more.

“I'm…I'm so sorry, Sally,” he said lastly before turning and walking away. I look at the freshly piled dirt, then back at the fleeting man. What do I do? The rabbit said that once the human had buried the other human, other humans in loud metal monsters arrived and dug it up. So does that happen here? I have to assume so. But I'm interested in him, mostly.

I dive out of the bushes and hurry towards him, keeping my distance so he doesn’t suspect. I follow him until he reaches a house, buried amongst the trees. I know this house. It’s one of my favourites to look at. I didn’t recognise this human with his thick, blue jacket on. I like him. I wonder if the woman is home too? He walks to the door, resting the shovel against the wall, and steps into the house, closing the door firmly behind him. It's ok, I can see inside from the end of the garden. Quickly, I scurry my way there, sitting myself tall at the highest point, wrapping the orange tail around my black paws. I can feel a slight breeze up here and need to keep them warm. I feel a sense of happiness as I see him walk into the window I can see through. He looks sad. No matter, the woman can cheer him up, but then I see the room he stands in. On the white floor, is a large, red puddle. He isn’t looking at it. He looks away slightly, at an object on the wall. It's covered in the same red liquid. Silly them. They must have spilt something.

I watch as he walks around the room, picking up a bottle and a cloth of some kind and then he began to wipe the liquid up. How nice of him. Cleaning up before the woman can see. With the liquid cleared away, he turned and looked out the window, out towards me. I stand, hoping he can see me. He doesn’t. I'm a little disappointed, but I don’t mind. I'm used to not being seen by humans, it's how we foxes work best.

With his stare out the window complete, and another tear rolling down his face, the man turned and walked away, the light in the room flicking off. I gave a little sigh. My night of events was over. I waited a little longer to see if he would reappear, but he did not. With heavy paws, I pulled myself away and scurried back into the shrubs and trees, hoping that tomorrow, I’ll be able to see the woman.