It rode in on the last freight train, abandoning its trail of carcasses in favour of a head start and fresh hunting grounds. We were none the wiser for the first few weeks as it crept around each night, surveying the land and planning its victims one by one.
Just dog-like enough to pass for a rather large fox at a distance, it patrolled the route it would soon litter with blood and viscera and smiled in an unsettlingly human way. As it finally circled back to the station it began to hum something it heard drifting out of an open window some few hundred years ago.
It didn't remember what she'd looked like, only that she liked to hum to her children every night. Maybe that's why it left her and slaughtered the rest of the village to compensate for its moment of weakness. Maybe it would find another and learn a new song to keep it company while it planned its next feast.
For now, a large fox would be reported lingering around the station and tomorrow the bloodbath would begin.
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