Chapter 5 THE MOTHMAN'S PLIGHT

Steve held the doorknob and turned it, causing it to open. The door revealed a crestfallen Martin, defeated and bitter as he sat down on the caret floor. He was surrounded by newspaper articles, rife with his scribblings and circled by permanent marker. Behind him, what used to be his map of connections, linking different pieces of the Mothman legend together, was torn down. His dull eyes were hidden in the messy unkempt mane. He was the image of a lost, broken man. The grandfather looked on in sympathy, seeing a little bit of himself in the lad during his days in the Korean War.

In the span of just a week, Martin had uncovered a mystery bigger than he ever imagined, and now it cost him his sister. If only they had a more normal vacation, then they would have stayed together. Of course, fate had other plans.

"Marty? Sorry to interrupt, but Billy is here, and-" Almost on cue, the young boy marched right inside his room.

"Listen," Billy interjected, "I know I caught you at a bad time, but things have happened. We need to talk about that Mothman and put this mystery to bed."

"The hell we are..." Martin muttered miserably. Billy's stern expression melted into confusion.

"Excuse me...?"

"I don't care anymore. I'm through."

Billy raised an eyebrow at such words. What happened to the investigator's resolve since the last time they spoke?

"And what's that mean?"

"Exactly as I said," Martin answered, voice deadpan and emotionless. "I'm putting this away."

"I don't believe that for a second!" Billy insisted. "You're just sad right now. You're not thinking straight."

Martin finally stood up and shot a glare Billy's way. His once dull, empty eyes were alight with fury and indignance as he towered over Billy like a tiger eyeing its prey.

"No, I fucking mean it!"

Billy backed away slowly, worried he was going to be struck. But instead, Martin walked to his table. The table were his research took place. The same table where a picture frame of him and his sister was present. He let out a shaky, tired sigh.

"This whole investigation has done nothing but brought me trouble and scorn. There's no point in chasing after a myth that isn't real!" His arm swung forward, and he pushed aside the materials on the table, letting them fall on the rug, including the family photo. "Madeline was right. I might as well pursue something normal from now on."

Steve's glasses nearly toppled over at such a declaration of defeat. He stepped into the room now with some words of his own.

"Martin...you bein' serious right now?" Steve demanded. "Was what you said to me last night just hot air? Were you just putting on a show just to act tough and big?!"

The 18-year-old opened his mouth to protest, only to find no words to counter his grandfather.

"When I found out 'bout your hobby, it filled me with joy and pride. I knew you'd be destined for great things someday, no matter how much flak ya got. That flare in your eyes and the conviction in your voice when you said you'd solve this mystery out was...well, damn amazin'. Hell, the only time I ever seen such an attitude like that was when your father asked permission to marry your mother." Steve chuckled lightly to himself at the fond memory before returning to Martin. "Son, if you truly enjoy your passion, you wouldn't just shelve it to the side outta impulse. A real man would finish what he started!"

"Yeah, I know what I said, gramps! You don't have to rub it in!" Martin sharply rebuked. "But that was then, this is now! I can't keep this up. I might as well just quit!"

"That's a load of crap!" Billy exclaimed. "You'd rather just let that freak roam around killing people?"

"Look, I just don't give a damn anymore! And how did you even get here?"

"I'm not very good at explaining, but I got this weird power. It helped me escape my parents and fight back against that moth thing. That means I can help you in your investigations! Maybe I can even talk to ghosts. Wouldn't that be awesome?"

Martin eyes widened slightly then narrowed with disbelief. He scoffed bitterly.

"Enough already. I'm done with being mocked. Leave me alone!"

"You know what?" Billy grumbled, rolling his eyes. "I've got some shit to work through."

Incensed, Billy thrust his hand forward. A strong force of wind zipped through and slammed into Martin's face, sending him towards the whiteboard. He landed back first and fell to the floor, groaning in pain.

"You're a pussy-ass coward, you know that? Your twin left you behind, big whoop! She's still alive, right?" The older boy stood up, shook up by the blast but still resentful.

"No, she's a traitor is what she is! I've wanted Madeline to join me for so long. But all she ever does is be a bitch and nag at me constantly. And now she would rather just ditch me, after I was being so tolerant and patient with her!? After everything we've been through?! Well, good fucking riddance!"

Again, Martin was greeted with another violent invisible punch. Discombobulated, he clumsily stumbled and collapsed against the wall. Not giving the older boy enough time to recuperate, Billy held out his arm. Martin was lifted from the ground like a flower petal in the wind. His legs flailed, desperately seeking solid ground to rest upon. Martin struggled to fight the grip, but to no avail. His whole being was frozen solid. Like a tennis ball, he was flung towards wall to wall, ceiling to floor, forced to hear Billy's spiteful diatribe against him.

"Don't be such a spoiled little shit! No wonder she left your dumb ass behind! You're just throwing a stupid temper tantrum over nothing! Fuck you! Fuck you to high hell! That's nothing compared to one full year of neglect and abuse."

With a shout of effort, the younger boy swung his hand down, forcing Martin to land on the rug, back first, hard. The 18-year-old began coughing as he tried to get up, only to find his whole body being floating again. He felt an intense pressure entrapping his neck like a snarl. With pained gasps, he struggled for air. Billy's normal colored eyes changed into pitch black as he held out an open palm and slowly closing it. It shook with anger as the 13-year-old psychic continued his rant.

"Do you know what it's like to clean up vomit after your drunk mother!? Do you know what it's like to be forced to dress up as a girl every day?! Do you know what it's like to get the shit beaten out of you by your own father!? Of course not! You and your sister got to live the good life while I...lost...EVERY...FUCKING...THING!"

Martin's face began to turn blue and his eyes were teary. He pawed at the unseen force wrapped around his throat, gasping and wheezing for air. Steve, shocked silly from the whole argument, finally shook himself of his stupor and grabbed his neighbor's shoulders, shaking him with aggressive desperation as he watched his grandson nearly dying right in front of him.

"Billy, enough is enough! Stop this right now!" Steve shouted, concerned for his grandson. "At this rate, you'll kill Martin!"

The boy stopped his attack at Steve's shout, the darkness in his eyes fading. The force around Martin's neck disappeared into the ether and he collapsed to the floor in a disordered, traumatized heap. He looked around the twins' room, unrecognized thanks to his rampage. Martin was whimpering and withering in the floor, holding his side from where he landed. Upon coming to his senses, regret completely replaced the anger. He was so close to killing somebody...

Suddenly, Billy felt a massive pressure from within his head. It was like thousands of nails had pierced his brain. With an agonized scream, the young man collapsed on the floor in pain, holding his head. The nosebleed returned. He pushed himself too hard again, just like before. There was a limit to his powers after all.

Steve was quick to race to his grandson's side, patting his back as he had a coughing fit.

"Son, you alright?"

Frazzled and shaken, Martin couldn't even speak as slowly got up from the floor, albeit painfully. Frightfully, he stood near the table, breathing heavily from being tossed around like a rag doll. The younger teen shot Martin a tearful, almost pleading puppy dog look. He was no longer a newly awakened medium, just a lonely, sad, and lost little boy calling out for help.

"Martin, don't you... have any idea how much that note meant to me?" Billy concluded; his voice broken with quiet sobs. "You gave me... the push I needed to make a change. You encouraged me... to break free. And now... you're going to sit here and just...give up? Just like that? Does that mean...Audrey's death was in vain? What I suffered was all for nothing?!"

Billy's tears hit the floor as he sat there and wept. Everyone fell into dead silence. The blonde-haired investigator lowered his head, guiltily staring at the floor. From that very moment, Martin felt smaller than a field mouse. Small as a worm. Small as the broken picture frame on the carpet floor. What was he thinking? How could he have been so insensitive and callous? The younger teen had been through so much and he...!

"Billy...I...I..."

However, all conversation was put on hold at the sound of a jingle. Bewildered, Martin realized it was his phone. He reached for his pockets and seen the caller ID. It was none other than Madeline! What did this mean? Did she have a change of heart? Without hesitation, he answered, albeit with trepidation, still winded from Billy's supernatural might.

"H-hello?"

However, the first thing he heard was not Madeline's voice as he expected, but Josh's.

"What the fuck is that thing?!"

"Josh?"

"It's what I saw in Wakeford, Josh..." Madeline interjected.

"You mean this time Junior's not crazy?!"

Martin sighed and rolled his eyes. What else should he have expected? Obviously, this was to tease him.

"Hardy har har, very funny," Martin grumbled, deadpan. "Did you call just to mock me?"

A loud, continuous thump reverberated in the background of the call. Footsteps? Of what? Martin was still unconvinced and put the call on speakerphone.

"Yeah, that's real convincing, Maddie," Martin snidely shot back. "Who'd you hire to play the Mothman?"

However, any disdain Martin had was erased as the call went on. Not only did Josh and Madeline not respond to him, but their voices sounded more frantic, anxious, and afraid. Something had happened to them while driving home. Something terrible. But what?

"Maddie, try to save yourself!"

Sounds of a struggle and a loud, metallic crash followed. In the background, barely audible, all heard the feared insect-like chatter. If this was a prank, it was a very elaborate one. And well-acted, too.

"Goddammit...!"

"HURRY, JOSH!"

"It's stuck, I can't!"

Glass breaking shattered any notion that this was a call to mock Martin. Instead, the frantic, desperate nature of the conversation infected the young investigator, and soon he joined in calls for Madeline to save herself. As Josh apparently fled the scene, Martin hurriedly begged and pleaded for Madeline to answer. But he heard nothing. Only the ragged, shallow breaths of his sister as she hissed the words,

"Get back...get away, you damn monster!"

An animalistic hiss concluded the call, and Martin could only hear the flapping of wings and the whistling of wind.

"Madeline?! Maddie, can you hear me? What's going on? Are you okay? Maddie...?"

BOOP-BOOP-BOOP.

The call dropped. And with it, so too did Martin's spirits.

"FUCK! It got her, too!"

Martin nearly smashed the phone, but Billy, who along with Steve had been stunned into silence by the frightful call, stopped him.

"Do you believe me now?" Billy pressed him, his eyes like steel.

"Yeah...yeah, I believe you. Only question is what the fuck we do now."

Martin sat at the foot of his bed, crushing his head between his hands. What reason did this creature have to kidnap his sister and take her God-knows-where? What was the motivation behind these hauntings? Just what did the Mothman want?

"We gotta go back to the factory, sonny," Steven counseled him, adjusting his glasses. "It's our only chance to solve this mystery."

"Are you crazy?" Billy protested, his eyes wide. "That thing almost killed me! No way I'm going back there!"

"You got a better idea, Billy?"

Billy fell silent. Indeed, he didn't know what, if anything, could be done to put an end to this monster. Either way, it seemed an enormous risk. One he was not willing to make after escaping a terrible situation.

"I don't know. All I know is that thing is dangerous. We shouldn't go anywhere near it!"

"How do we know that?" Martin said at last.

The two looked back in shock at the young investigator, his head dipped pensively in thought. Gears turned in his brain as he pieced together all he had gathered from the mystery. Not just from the sightings at Wakeford, either, but in Point Pleasant, and other places in West Virginia as well. They were going about this entirely the wrong way, and he knew it.

"Billy, when you encountered the Mothman, did it attack you?"

"He was comin' right at me, Mart! What do you think?!"

"That doesn't answer the question. Did he try to hurt you?"

Billy took a step back, thinking on that confrontation. Truthfully, he was acting more out of fear of the monster. It didn't lay a hand-or rather, a claw-on him. But upon seeing him, a sense of self-preservation took over, and everything else followed. He was only looking to protect himself.

"Well...no. He didn't. That's because I stopped him before he could do anything!"

"Whatcha gettin' at, kiddo?" Steve interjected, confused. "That thing's been a menace ever since it was first sighted in Point Pleasant! It's killed dozens a' people." But Martin shook his head.

"Wrong. None of the accounts we read ever mention the monster killing its victims. The people connected to it died in a bridge accident, remember? First in Point Pleasant in the 60s, and then in Wakeford last year. Now answer me this: why is it the Mothman was first spotted at the Wakeford Bridge when it was first built?"

Billy raised an eyebrow confused.

"What do you mean? I only ever saw it when my parents were driving me home."

"Yes, but before that, others had seen it. The first recorded sighting in Wakeford was in 1968. That's the year the Wakeford Bridge was built, just over a year after the one in Point Pleasant collapsed. Do you know why?"

Billy shook his head, still lost. Steve, however, said nothing, and straightened his mustache.

"It's because the Mothman was trying to warn everyone about the bridge! It knew there was something wrong. It knew something terrible was gonna happen! When your family saw it last year, it was probably trying to send a warning." Billy sighed tiredly.

"Well, it did a piss-poor job of it. And that still doesn't explain why it took Madeline!"

Martin stood up, rubbing the back of his head in frustration. Admittedly, he didn't have a good answer for that, either. But it was the best explanation he had for this creature.

"We gotta find Maddie," Steve declared at last. "If she's alive, then you're right. And if we find Maddie, we'll find that Mothman too." Billy nodded, his eyes alight with determination.

"And we'll put an end to this mystery."

"In that case, let's not waste any time. You with us, Martin?"

Martin stepped to his grandfather and newfound friend and nodded. With a tired but ready smile, he said,

"We'll go to the factory tonight. Let's finish this."

A small cheer lit up the room and all left to make their individual preparations. There was only one path for them, and it was down the trail back to where it all started.

That Night

It was not the most enviable prospect, but in the mind of Martin Chalmers, it had to be done. All the roads led back to the munitions factory. For the sake of ending the mystery, rescuing Madeline, and ending the terror, they had to go back. The answer to this was in finding the Mothman once and for all. So it was they all took to Steve's truck and drove down the road. To the dreaded, forbidding arms factory.

It was about nine o'clock at night when Steve pulled up in front of the wire fence sealing off the area. He reached for the shotgun he kept hidden under his seat and went over the plan with Billy and Martin.

"Alrighty, boys, here's what's gonna happen. Billy, you watch the woods and make sure ol' Red Eyes don't sneak up on us. Marty, I want you to find Maddie. We ain't leavin' this place without 'er. The minute you find her, bring her back to the truck, and we'll hightail it outta here. Got it?" Both young boys nodded. "Then let's finish this, boys."

The trio split up, with Martin heading towards the factory proper while Billy, armed with nothing except his own powers, scoured the edge of the woods, making sure not to go too deep into it. If they were to get out alive, they needed to stay in sight of each other. Martin, carrying only his camera phone, switched on his flashlight, and headed into the building. A loud metallic clatter echoed as the rusted door yielded to Martin's strength. In the small space of machinery, munitions, and rust, Martin flashed his light at every nook and cranny possible.

"Madeline!" he called, trying to not to be too loud. "Maddie, can you hear me?"

There was no answer. Martin gulped, fearing the worst. This was the best lead they had for where she could be, and if she wasn't here...

"Maddie, I'm sorry!" he pleaded as the beam of his flashlight bounced around. "I was acting like a jerk! I want to make this right, so please, answer me!"

Once again, nothing. A soft, metallic shift proved unnerving as Martin circled around a conveyor belt loaded with small-caliber bullets. On the other side of the factory, a metal staircase ran up to a second floor with a row of doors leading to offices and storage rooms. Martin, for no reason he could discern, traipsed up the staircase, his feet echoing on every step before reaching the next floor. A wooden door was slightly ajar, almost teasing him to come in.

Martin focused his flashlight on the footwalk ahead of him and cautiously tiptoed forward. Suddenly, he remembered: if this was their chance to solve the mystery, he needed to get it on camera. The boy sleuth switched to the camera function and pressed on the red 'record' button.

"Maddie! Where are you?"

"...ngh..."

A soft moan came from his right, behind the ajar wooden door. It was gentle, feminine, and familiar. Adrenaline flowed through Martin's veins as he approached the first room. That had to be her! It had to be!

"I hear her...I hear you! Maddie?!"

"...Marty...?"

"Maddie, where are you?!"

"...here..."

Martin shoved the door open and, in the dark corner of a storage room laden with wooden boxes and metal barrels, he spotted a body, crumpled on the ground like a used napkin. The silhouette was thin, slender, with a loose-fitting jacket wrapping around it. Martin shined a light in the corner and the silhouette was revealed.

Madeline. Bruised, bloodied Madeline.

"Oh my god...sis!"

Madeline turned her head to see him. Her straight brunette hair covered one half of her face while the other was spattered with blood like a morbid Jackson Pollock painting. That car crash must have done terrible damage to her. An eye blinked as she reached out to him.

"Martin..."

The boy investigator set his camera phone down and immediately rushed to her side, checking her body for any wounds. Her right arm was covered in blood, and a large gash in her jacket revealed a wounded elbow. Similarly, a cut near her left temple had clotted, leaving a dried coat of blood near her forehead.

"Bro, I'm sorry," she whispered. "I was being stubborn and cowardly. I should've stayed..."

"Don't worry about it, Maddie. Let's just get outta here. Can you walk?"

"I think so..."

Martin offered her a hand, but she surprised him by standing up herself, albeit with a bit of effort. She had to slide her back up before pushing herself off with her one good arm, throwing her body to her brother. The two siblings embraced, sharing a silent reconciliation. This time, they would start anew. Their slates wiped clean. And they would face whatever awaited them outside the factory walls together.

The brother offered to let Madeline lean on him, but she surprised him. Apart from some suppressed winces of pain when she dusted herself off, she walked out of the room and onto the footwalk, as if nothing had struck her at all. Martin, floored by it all, was struggling to keep up with her as she went down the stairs.

"How did you know where to find me?" Madeline asked, unlatching the lock on her pistol holster.

"I heard the entire car crash. I figured that if the Mothman took you, it would bring you here. What the hell happened with you and Josh?"

At the bottom of the stairs she stopped and sighed, leaning on one leg. With one shaky hand she produced her pistol and checked the chamber to be sure it was loaded.

"I thought turning to Josh would help me and make things better. But instead it just made things worse. We were about to hit the highway when...that thing jumped down on us."

"So...where's Josh then?" The girl snorted before spitting out a mixture of blood and saliva onto the concrete floor.

"Ditched me when it got too hairy."

Martin staggered back, almost falling on the staircase. Josh, while he could be a pain to Martin, at least treated Madeline as well as any partner would. To learn that he abandoned her in her hour of need was like hearing another language. What had happened to him now? Had the Mothman come for him as well?

"I don't know where he is," she concluded. "And I don't give a rat's ass anymore, either." She spun her body around to face her brother. "Look, I was a bitch. I should've listened to you instead of running away. So, can we just forget about Josh for now?"

"...alright, then. Let's just focus on getting out of here."

Madeline nodded and led the way, cocking her C96 as she exited the factory. She was immediately greeted by the bright headlights of their grandfather's pickup truck. Her heart was warmed by the sight of her grandfather, light glinting off his tortoise shell glasses, and his handlebar mustache bending to his smile. She smiled back and waved weakly, approaching the truck. But as soon as she touched the passenger door handle, a familiar sound emerged from the woods.

Chitter chatter chitter chatter.

Martin stifled a gasp.

"Oh shit..."

"HE'S HERE!" Billy cried, assuming a ready stance to fight the creature.

"Yeah?" Madeline said, defiance rising in her voice. "Well, let's finish what we started then!"

She raised her pistol and pointed it in the direction of the woods. A dark, tall silhouette emerged from the blackness. Two bright red eyes, glowing like beacons on a foggy night, sent a chill down Martin's spine. But he did not run. Instead, he reached for his camera phone and began recording.

"We're here again," he narrated. "We came back when Madeline was taken. And now...the Mothman is here."

Billy reached out one hand, ready to force it back and use all his power to defend his newfound friends. Steve stepped out of the truck, holding his shotgun, ready to do battle. But strangely, the Mothman didn't attack any of them. Instead, it walked right past Billy. It didn't even pay him a passing glance as it approached the truck. Steve cocked his shotgun and aimed it at the creature's head, but it made no indication that it was planning to attack. Its unblinking eyes, mesmerizing, frightening, and comforting at the same time, only turned their gaze to Martin.

Martin Chalmers, armed with only a camera phone, his wits, and his words. And he used them to great effect.

Cautiously, the paranormal investigator stepped towards the creature. He aimed the viewfinder right at the Mothman's head. It could barely fit in the frame, thanks to its large antennae. He breathed heavily, fearing what it would do. But this was the best chance they had.

"Mothman?"

A low growl was his answer. It seemed to understand human speech. That was good, at least. It meant he could reason with it.

"Mothman...I know what you are. I know the legend behind you. And I know that...a lot of people are afraid of you. But they're wrong to fear you."

Yet again, the Mothman answered in a low, slightly confused growl. He wasn't sure whether that was a comfort or not.

"You're not a monster. Hell, you've never hurt anybody, certainly nobody I've heard of. All you ever wanted to do...is help people. Am I wrong?"

The monster was silent. Its antennae fluttered, shaking off excess dust in the air. Madeline cautiously stepped to Martin's side, her C96 still at the ready. Even if this thing wasn't attacking them yet, she was not about to take any chances. However, she didn't raise her gun to fire. This time, she had to trust Martin.

"I know about the Silver Bridge collapse in Point Pleasant and how you tried to stop it. And the Wakeford Bridge collapse last year. You knew what was going to happen, didn't you? You knew people were going to die if they weren't warned. So that's what you did. You flew near the bridge and stopped the Jacobsens on their way from the gas station. You didn't want them to suffer, did you?"

The Mothman took one step forward, the ground rumbling beneath him. But Martin was undeterred.

"But nobody listened because they were afraid of you. We're really fucking stupid like that, you know?" Martin remarked, laughing nervously. "We fear what we don't understand. Whether that's ghosts, monsters, or aliens. But...that's also what makes us human. It's what makes us...us." The Mothman chittered, as if intrigued. "Mothman, I know what it's like to be misunderstood. It's why I do what I do: so the world can learn the truth about beings like you. I want the world to understand how you tried to help people. I want the world to know that it doesn't have to fear you."

Martin gulped and adjusted the viewfinder. The creature only took another step forward. Madeline backed away, raising her pistol. Martin, fearing the worst, did his best to defuse the situation.

"The world thinks you're a monster, something to fear. You don't have to be the monster they all fear!"

"Marty, we tried your way," Madeline interjected. "Let me-?"

Martin thought for sure a gunfight would break out, but instead, the Mothman reached out one claw and gently pushed Madeline's pistol towards the ground. It didn't advance with malice or anger. Instead, it seemed...remorseful. Regretful. Melancholy. Its unblinking, ruby-like eyes, large as dinner plates, focused on his sister, who now was panting in fear. What would it do? Would it snatch her and fly away to parts unknown? Would it kill her and her entire family right there?

What it did next left everyone, even Martin, in utter astonishment and speechlessness.

The creature gently nudged the girl closer to her sibling until their shoulders lightly bumped each other. Its claws rested on their shoulders, as if they were old friends. Its head rotated to face Madeline, her face pale, but her bloodstained teeth grit with determination.

"Take...care...of brother."

The monster spoke. Its voice, low, deep, and garbled, sounded like a distorted audio cassette, like when a song is played in slow motion. This creature...this thing that had been the source of mystery and dread for so long...could speak the same as them.

Martin and Madeline exchanged confused, worried glances. How did the Mothman even know they were siblings, much less how to speak?

They would not get answers to either of those questions, as the creature shifted its attention to Billy Jacobsen. The young boy who, as a result of his family's encounter, was subjected to more than a year of abuse and trauma. The boy who had strange, inexplicable telekinetic powers.

Billy's body tensed up as the creature approached him and he readied himself for the worst. There was no telling if this was some elaborate trick, a ruse to make them all drop their guard. But such fears proved unfounded. Instead, the creature gently rubbed his head with his claw. He uttered a messaged in the same deep, garbled voice.

"Sorry...couldn't...save her." Billy heaved a deep gasp of breath, as if he had just emerged from underwater.

"Couldn't save...Audrey?!" he realized, tears breaking through his eyes.

Alas, the Mothman had no explanation to give. Instead, it stepped away from the group and strode towards the woods before stopping at the forest edge. Then, it unfurled its great wings, spanning at least ten feet from tip to tip. Then, with one last roar, he flew up into the dark night sky and left for parts unknown.

Martin never stopped recording for the length of the encounter. Neither he nor anyone else in his small group could speak. What could they say to summarize what had just happened to them? Martin had encountered his fair share of strange happenings in his time as a paranormal investigator, but this topped everything. Paranormal beings had a tendency to avoid attention. Ghosts would hide in silence. Cryptids would seek shelter in the woods. But this creature? It ventured out. Spoke to them. This was truly an experience like no other. Certainly not one he would ever see again.

After a long moment of silence, Madeline, thoroughly confused and astonished by what she saw, ventured to ask the question:

"What the actual fuck just happened?"

"...I think we just solved the biggest mystery in West Virginia," Martin replied, smiling to himself as he put away his phone.

"Why did...actually, you know what?" she relented, sighing as she holstered her pistol. "Why don't you guys explain it to me in the morning? I think I've had enough misadventures for one night."

Steve chuckled to himself and stowed away his shotgun. Looking at the clock on his dashboard, he saw it was almost midnight.

"Might as well, Maddie. Been a helluva long night. C'mon, y'all. Time to go home!"

There were no objections, and all piled into the truck. Billy was the last to enter, and as the truck drove away back towards the Chalmers house, Billy took one last look at the munitions factory. In the distance, he could see the Mothman's silhouette, still flying high among the stars. Where it was going, he could not hope to know. But at least he understood what this thing was. And what it tried to do.

"Well guys," Martin whispered to the camera, concluding his investigation, "it turns out the Mothman wasn't a monster at all. Just misunderstood. When you really think about it, we're the monsters for fearing him when he meant no harm. But that's part of the human condition: fear gives us life. Being afraid of the right things kept our ancestors alive, even if there was no clear and obvious danger. But hopefully, this investigation proved that not all cryptids in the world are out to get us. In fact, some may just be trying to reach out to us. So, until next time, I'm Martin Chalmers, and I'm...the Shadow Hunter."