Lance Meyers had lived at a small farm five miles outside of St. Paul. It was a family farm for the past three generations raising pigs and chickens for the locals to enjoy. He wasn't married and had no kids, so at least that part was simple. No explanations needed for his death other than the newspaper stating a hunting accident. Chris walked up to where the attack had happened and immediately noticed the large amount of blood on the ground. One dead and another in critical condition from his mistake. He had to find all of the missing experiments before anyone else was harmed. The Rudolph project had been a thorn in his side the past years. He sighed remembering the easy days where he took a vacation til August with Angela in Cozumel or hiking through Ireland. Now his off days are full of work and worry not knowing what else might manifest from his woes. The second hunter was trampled and his wife said his face was no longer recognizable. It's kind of ironic that they would be attacked by the very thing they were hunting. The air smelled of decay from the blood and his nostrils burned. There was another smell that was quite faint but one he recognized without hesitation. The reindeer from the experiments all had different genetic modifications but all were given a leather collar that was handmade and somehow smelled of candy canes and shoe polish. The scent was unique and Chris knew that his deer had done this. He knew know that he never should have turned down the suggestion to put trackers on the experiments. Lesson learned, the hard way. Now he would have to bait and try or lure them in as well as executing both without one escaping. I'd one got away then he would have more issues. There was a belief that the deer had started having a hive mind of sorts and he did not want to risk them having knowledge of him hunting them. A bizarre realization came to mind and unable to shake it made Chris more tense than he was already. How would he trap them? He asked himself rubbing his beard. The vibration in his pocket followed by the tune of jingle bells pulled his mind away for a moment. He hardly used cell phones and had forgotten that he had one. "Hello?" He asked when the number came up local and not a name he was familiar with. "Chris this is the sheriff, there has been another attack. This time three people were killed. Looks like the same thing that did the first attack. Are you near the crime scene still?" Chris was shaken, another attack and so soon. "Yes I'm here now, send me the address and I'll come to you." Chris could barely hold the phone because his hands were trembling." There is something you need to know Chris, this attack seemed different. It was the Merritt family, dad, mom and son and they were in their house. All were sitting at the dinner table when the attack took place. Seems like a different Mo but very much the same attacker." Curiosity was beginning to tickle at Chris and he had to ask. "How do you it's the same attacker?" "Well" said the sheriff "The level of damage the victims sustained is very similar to the previous attacks. There are strange animal like foot prints in the blood at the scene and also I just have a hunch.