Big Jorge Flores or gordo to the people that knew him (fat in Spanish) was the ranch owner, he was the "King of the ranch" as he called himself but in fact he was solely responsible for the ranch being there. He was a retired teacher who taught English and local Mexican history to kids from ages 6-11, he was forced to retire due to a growing problem with his knee that caused great discomfort when on his feet too long - slipped capital femoral epiphysis was what the official diagnosis read but what it meant in simple terms was that the head of the femur slipped off the shaft of the knee cap and causes an irreversible limp.
The ranch itself was an average size and took a long time to plan and build, it was an escape for Jorge when he retired, it gave him something to focus on. Filled with livestock which included sheep, alpacas, mules, cattle, chickens and hens, and the odd deer that he kind of just adopted. The views were stunning all year round, in front of the ranch you had the endless open fields of green and behind it had the very scenic mountain views that offered a refreshing place for his evening meal and cigar, star gazing at this time was his favorite thing to do.
As he sat down this one evening ready to tuck into his platter of greasy food there was a disturbing moan coming from the area where he kept his sheep so he went to check it out, chicken wing in hand of course. His limp followed the noise until it stopped, when he reached the sheep it was a horrific sight, three sheep lay on the grass lifeless, it was like they had been shrunken. Jorge dropped his beloved chicken wing and inspected the bodies closer and realised that there was no blood at all, three dead sheep that had been torn apart but no blood. This was strange, something had drained all the blood from their bodies.
In this part of Mexico if you talk to the local folk the story of the Chupacabra is very well known and often believed to exist. It is said to have a stature resembling that of a kangaroo but is hairless and looks like some sort of a reptilian scaly wild dog, it can also reach lightning quick speed in a matter of seconds and some say that during the end of summer/autumn months it can grow wings to migrate and hide until it needs to feed again. Jorge being a former teacher of the local history was aware of the legend of this creature but never believed it to exist, the night he came across the bloodless bodies of his sheep he started to change his beliefs.
Over the next few nights Jorge started to set traps to see if he could catch the returning creature, the sheep were reluctantly used as bait, while he also had cameras set up in the hope that he could get this on film. Cynics would say all he wanted was the exposure. The nights passed without incident , all that wandered through was the odd kit fox looking for a bit of a late night feast but to no avail as Jorge who sat up through the night would set off a trap and scare it off. Not a single sheep dead in over a week it seemed that whatever killed them was a once off and has now left to find pastures new.
In the surrounding mountains there wasn't any animals seen for miles, birds had flocked and even the wolf had left. Unusual tracks could be seen by hunters passing by, they were larger than a dogs paw print but in the same shape except that it had five prints not four. The fishermen had complained to the national wildlife services of another strange occurrence, hundreds and hundreds of fish lay on the land ripped apart savagely, the lakes were surrounded by the foul stench of dead fish but again here there was no sign of blood, it had been drained from the bodies.
Something was happening you could feel it, almost like that feeling you get before a big fight was about to take place, the air had a taste to it. Jorge sat down facing the mountains ready to eat his meal, by his side was his stick to help him get around, and a packet of cigars attached to his hip belt. The sun was setting and in the distance he could see the trees rustling and hear a fast moving sound like someone is zipping up their jacket repeatedly at an overly excited speed. It started to get really dark all of a sudden and growls started to verve in the surrounding trees, Jorge stood up knowing that something wasn't right, he started to walk back to his house to check the cameras and traps when he heard the painful cry of his sheep again.
Caught between going back to his house or heading over to where the noise was coming from he smartly chose to go back to the house. On his camera he could see what must of been twenty creatures to which he never came across before surrounding the ranch and feeding on his livestock, it mirrored how Jorge tucked into his chicken wings. "Chupacabra" he said with a frightening look on his face, they were done feeding, carcasses were everywhere it was a horrific sight, especially if you were a vegan. Slowly they edged closer to the house that Jorge was in, their reptilian/dog features very distinct, tongue popping in and out of their scaly mouth very fast while they walked on all fours and had that echo to their bark.
Jorge's mind was racing wondering what could he do, he went into his room took out his gun and got on his knees. He put it in his mouth preparing to blow his brains out but when he pulled the trigger nothing happened, the gun was empty. He sat there crying before going over and grabbing the rosary beads before again returning to his knees to pray. Outside he could hear them getting closer and closer, he knew he only had seconds left as he tried to squeeze every last prayer in. The door was scratched at until suddenly the windows smashed open and one after one they all hoped into the house. They surrounded him in a circle, twenty of these creatures surrounding a man on his knees praying, it was like they gave him the respect to say his last few words. Moments later Jorge could hear deafening barks as he waited for the inevitable. He opened his eyes to a blinding bright light and all he could see around him was white.........
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