(A/N):
Drop a meme here that you find funny. Or reflects your mood.
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Richard slid the thick, red-stamped file across the table.
Jojo leaned forward, fingers brushing the rough cover before flipping it open.
The first page hit him like a punch—
Faded photographs of deformed faces, bodies scarred and twisted by their own hands.
His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing as recognition stirred something deep in his memory.
Three names scrawled across the top in black ink:
Three Finger –
A grotesque grin stretched across his face in the photo,
One hand raised proudly as if to show off the stubs.
The file noted how he had bitten off his own finger as a child—
Left only with three working digits.
One Eye –
The picture was worse, his empty socket staring hollowly.
The report detailed the moment he tore his own eye out with a fork, consuming it while laughing hysterically.
Saw Tooth –
Sharp teeth gleamed in the grainy picture, each one filed to a jagged point.
The note described how he ground them against stone until he could tear through raw flesh with ease.
At the bottom of the page, the institution's name was typed in stark black:
"Glenville Sanatorium – West Virginia. Year: 1975."
Jojo's eyes lingered there.
"____"
His thoughts churned—
Memories of the Wrong Turn horrors flickered in his mind, the trails soaked with blood, the screams echoing in the trees.
"These three…"
Jojo muttered under his breath, snapping the file shut.
'They weren't born monsters… they were mental patients.'
Alaric studied him carefully, noticing the shift in Jojo's expression.
Richard leaned back, his tone grave.
"They escaped after that report. Disappeared into the forest. The state buried the records, pretended the Sanatorium's… incidents never happened. But what crawled out of there is no longer humans."
Jojo's jaw tightened, the Ghost Rider within him stirring restlessly at the mere thought.
"Three Finger. One Eye. Saw Tooth,"
He whispered, as if naming a curse.
Jojo slowly closed the file, the weight of it pressing heavier than the paper itself.
He set it on the table between them, fingers tapping once before pulling back.
His eyes, dark and sharp, lingered on Richard—
An old man who clearly hadn't come here on some bureaucratic errand.
His voice carried a low edge.
"So… the Human Rights Commission would rather let monsters walk free in the shadows of West Virginia, than allow justice to clean their mess?"
Jojo said, his tone closer to a growl than a question.
Richard shifted uncomfortably, his face a mixture of guilt and frustration.
"You don't understand, Jojo. There are laws—laws written by people who've never stepped foot in those woods."
"They believe it's containment. That if the cannibals stay in the forest, the killings can be ignored as… local disappearances. But the truth is, every year, hikers vanish. Campers vanish. Truckers on backroads… vanish."
Jojo leaned back on the couch, flipping the second set of files open.
Year-stamped reports: 2003. 2007. 2009.
Faces stared back at him—
Some marked SURVIVED, others scratched out, lost forever.
He noticed the names: Jessie Burlingame, Sheriff Carver, Alex, Nate… their stories written like scars on a timeline of blood.
"Each time,"
Richard continued, pointing at the files,
"someone lived to tell the tale. That's how the cops knew those three—Three Finger, Saw Tooth, One Eye—were still alive. But for every survivor, there were dozens who never came back. And the Commission calls it… acceptable losses."
"Because it was their fault to ignore goverment's order and enter the forest."
Alaric's jaw tightened, his eyes flicking toward Jojo.
He could already tell where this was heading.
Jojo's expression darkened as he slid the 2009 report across the table, tapping the page.
"And how many bodies do you not have on record, Richard? How many families never even knew where to search?"
Richard hesitated before answering, his voice breaking slightly.
"____"
"Too many. We… we don't know. That's why I came to you after caonversing with Aleric."
"Because if anyone can deal with this—hunt them, corner them—it's you if whathe said is ture. But I won't lie. They aren't just wild men."
"They're predators. Skilled at tracking, at luring. The forest belongs to them. Even the locals won't go near Glenville."
The silence in the room grew heavy.
"____"
"____"
"____"
Jojo looked down at the deformed photographs again—
Three Finger's grotesque smile, One Eye's hollow socket, Saw Tooth's jagged mouth.
His hand clenched into a fist.
"They think the forest makes them untouchable,"
Jojo muttered, his voice low and dangerous.
His head lifted, eyes burning with determination.
"Then I'll make the forest itself turn against them."
Richard lowered his head at Jojo's words, his weathered hands clenching into fists.
"____"
The old man's voice carried a weight of grief when he finally spoke.
"My brother… Sheriff Carver. They butchered him too,"
Richard muttered, eyes clouding with the memory.
Jojo leaned back on the couch, silently watching.
Richard's gaze shifted, almost distant,
As if dragging himself back through the years.
"Long ago, I should've died in a wreck. My car spun out on the mountain roads and crashed. Would've bled out if Aleric hadn't been there. He pulled me out… saved me. I didn't know it then, but that was my first step into your world—the world of shadows."
Aleric gave a quiet nod, letting Richard's story unfold.
Nod~
"Over the years, I saw things. A girl nearly torn apart by a werewolf—I tried to help, but I was no match. Catalina arrived just in time, finished the beast, saved us both."
"After that, I couldn't look away anymore. I knew this world was real. I knew monsters walked among us."
Richard's jaw tightened.
"And yet… I kept going back to the same plea."
"Again and again, I begged them—Aleric, Catalina—to help me end those three cannibal demons hiding in the West Virginia woods. Three Finger, One Eye, Saw Tooth."
He paused, his eyes hollow.
"____"
"They always refused. Said… they were still human. Twisted, damned, but human."
Jojo raised an eyebrow at that, his expression unreadable.
Richard pressed on.
"In 2004, I convinced them. A hunt. One last chance to bring justice. All three of us went into those woods, weapons ready. And for the first time—we found them."
His voice dropped low, almost trembling.
"One Eye. He was tougher than the others, more endurance, more fury. We nearly killed him. I thought it was over.We had him in chains… but at the last moment, the other two came. The forest turned against us."
A shadow crossed Aleric's face, remembering that night.
"They freed him. We fought—we captured him again. I thought we'd finally end it. But then Catalina… she made the call. Shot one of them in the chest, created an opening, and they all slipped away into the trees."
Richard's head shook, defeat and rage mingling.
"From that day forward, nothing. We searched, hunted, tracked. But they learned. They avoided us. Ghosts in their own woods."
Silence filled the room for a moment, heavy as stone.
"____"
"____"
"____"
But over time, they stopped searching.
Each went their separate ways—
Alaric disappeared into his own path, Catalina returned to her duties,
And Richard buried his obsession beneath the weight of daily life.
That was until three days ago.
Richard leaned forward, pulling a crumpled black-and-white printout from the file.
The paper was grainy, the kind of picture that looked like a ghost captured on film.
But Jojo recognized the hunched, wiry silhouette instantly.
"____"
The crooked grin.
The unnatural gait.
It was Three Finger.
The CCTV still had been captured on the edge of a deserted road near the West Virginia border.
Shaky, blurred by movement, but unmistakable.
Jojo's eyes narrowed. Richard's voice dropped, heavy with determination.
"After years of silence, I thought… maybe they were finally gone. But then this showed up. Three Finger. Alive. Still hunting. Which means the others aren't far behind."
Richard exhaled sharply, anger flickering behind his eyes.
"So I started searching again. Digging. Contacting old friends. Even reached out to Catalina. That's when I ran into Alaric. He told me about you… about the DMC. Said you were the kind of man who takes cases no one else dares touch."
His hand tightened into a fist on the table.
"That's why you're here, Jojo. Because this time—I'm not letting them vanish back into the woods. Not again. Not after what they did to my brother."
Jojo sat in silence for a long moment, his fingers drumming against the wooden table.
"____"
The only sound in the room was the faint hum of the ceiling fan and Richard's uneven breathing.
Finally, Jojo leaned forward, his eyes catching Richard's with a sharp, unwavering intensity.
"Alright,"
He said, voice low and measured.
"I'll take your case."
Relief washed over Richard's face,
But Jojo's expression didn't soften.
"But understand this, Richard—my work isn't charity. When this case is done, when those monsters are dealt with… you'll pay the commission. Standard DMC terms. No bargaining."
Richard nodded without hesitation,
Nod~
The weight of his obsession heavier than money.
"I don't care what it costs. As long as they're finished."
Jojo smirked faintly, a flash of something cold flickering in his eyes.
Smirk~
"Good. Then we have an agreement."
He rose from his chair, leather coat shifting with the movement,
His presence filling the room like a shadow stretching too far.
"Now… tell me everything you know. Every sighting, every trail, every scrap of detail. If Three Finger's alive, I'll find him. And if his kin are with him…"
Jojo's voice dropped, edged with something inhuman for just a moment.
"I'll make sure none of them walk away this time."
Meanwhile,
Far from Richard's cramped office and Jojo's looming shadow,
A young man named Danny was laughing softly as he walked alongside his girlfriend,
Toni, their hands intertwined.
The city streets were buzzing with evening life—
Neon signs flickering, motorbikes roaring past,
And couples hurrying home.
To anyone watching,
Danny looked like an ordinary twenty-something enjoying his time with the girl he loved.
But beneath the surface, there was a quiet storm in him.
Danny had grown up believing he was just another kid who'd gotten lucky—
Rescued from the foster system and adopted into a warm, loving home.
His parents had raised him well, given him everything he needed.
But three years ago, everything changed in a single night—
A car accident snatched them away, leaving him alone again.
At their funeral, while relatives whispered condolences and neighbors bowed their heads,
Danny overheard something that cut deeper than grief.
'they weren't his real parents.'
The revelation hollowed him out.
From that day on, every room in the house they left behind felt foreign, like he was trespassing in someone else's story.
He couldn't stay there.
Couldn't pretend anymore.
So he sold the house,
Packed up his few belongings, and moved in with Toni.
Living with her brought him warmth,
A fragile sense of belonging.
She became his anchor,
The only person who made him feel like he wasn't drifting aimlessly in a world where even his identity seemed like a lie.
As they walked,
Toni nudged him with a playful smile.
"You're spacing out again, Danny. Thinking too hard?"
Danny smirked faintly, masking the ache inside.
Smirk~
"Maybe. You know me."
He squeezed her hand tighter, almost as if afraid that if he let go,
He'd lose this fragile piece of happiness too.
The morning sunlight spilled through the kitchen curtains,
Bathing the small dining table in a soft glow.
Toni set a steaming plate of toast and eggs in front of Danny before leaning down to kiss his cheek.
"Eat before it gets cold. I'll go check the mailbox."
Danny nodded absentmindedly,
Nod~
Already picking at his breakfast, his mind still carrying that same weight it always did.
Outside, the neighborhood was quiet, save for the chirping of sparrows on the telephone wire.
Toni walked to the front gate, opened the creaky mailbox, and shuffled through the small stack of envelopes.
Mostly bills and junk—
Until her fingers brushed across one that made her stop.
A plain white envelope.
Stamped with the emblem of the local bank.
Addressed neatly to Danny.
Her brows furrowed.
Frown~
"____"
Danny hadn't spoken of any accounts, loans, or deposits lately.
Curiosity prickled at her chest.
She stepped back inside,
Flipping the envelope in her hands before laying it in front of him on the table.
"This came for you."
Danny looked up mid-bite, puzzled.
He wiped his hands, picked up the envelope, and studied the return address.
For a moment, his eyes narrowed.
"The bank?"
Toni tilted her head, arms crossed, trying to read his expression.
"What would they be writing you about?"
Danny shook his head slowly,
Still staring at the letter like it might explain itself.
"I don't know… I don't have anything with them. At least—not that I remember."
The confusion in his voice was genuine.
With a reluctant breath, he slid a finger beneath the seal and tore it open.
They don't know this letter is about to change their whole world.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N):
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give a review and power stone!!!