October 2026

Night Owl by KB Jackson

INTERVIEWING OFFICER: SERGEANT RICHARD SAMSON

OFFICER ID NO.: 7452

WITNESS NAME: ARTHUR BAKER

LOCATION: GARRETT COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE

CASE NO.: [REDACTED]

TRANSCRIBER: SAMANTHA CORKNEY

SERGEANT SAMSON: Here’s that coffee, Mr. Baker. Do you take cream or sugar?

WITNESS: No, thank you, black is fine.

SAMSON: Alright, then. And I checked with Detective Rhodes, he’s going to check his cruiser for your glasses.

WITNESS: I appreciate that, thank you.

SAMSON: Yes, sir. Now, it’s my job to let you know that you are being recorded by that camera just there in the corner. The glass behind you is also being watched by two of my detectives. It’s two-way glass.

WITNESS: I figured.

SAMSON: Right. You’re a smart fella, Mr. Baker.

WITNESS: Arthur, please.

SAMSON: Arthur, sure. Like the king, right?

WITNESS: Just the same, yeah. Don’t feel much like a king right now, though.

SAMSON: I was just coming to that. I think we oughta get down to business, don’t you, Mr.––uh, Arthur?

WITNESS: Mr. Arthur is somehow worse than Mr. Baker.

SAMSON: Sorry, Arthur. You’ll have to forgive me, it’s been a long shift.

WITNESS: You’re telling me.

SAMSON: Yes, well… Let’s start with the basics. My name is Sergeant Richard Samson, badge number 7452, and I’ll be the officer conducting this witness interview. What’s your full name?

WITNESS: Arthur Grant Baker.

SAMSON: And your date of birth?

WITNESS: March fifteenth, nineteen seventy-seven.

SAMSON: Perfect. You’re doing fine, Arthur.

WITNESS: I disagree, but thank you.

SAMSON: Right. Now, let’s get into it. I don’t mean to pressure you, Arthur, but a man is dead. We need to know what happened. You told my detective that you saw a… a bird of some sort?

WITNESS: Not no bird. A woman.

SAMSON: Right, a woman.

WITNESS:

SAMSON: Mr. Baker?

WITNESS:

SAMSON: Mr. Baker, can you tell me what happened?

WITNESS: Arthur, I told you.

SAMSON: I––right. Arthur. I need you to tell me what you remember. What did you see?

WITNESS: You seem a little agitated, Sergeant.

SAMSON: Well, to be frank, sir, I am agitated. A member of my community died tonight, and the only man left standing at the scene is tight-lipped about it. I can’t understand why you’d want to keep a secret like this.

WITNESS: Has it occurred to you that I’m trying to keep more people from dying?

SAMSON: No, it has not. In my opinion, the only way to prevent more deaths is to find out how the first one was caused. To that end, seems to me that keeping secrets is exactly how more deaths will come about!

WITNESS: No need to raise your voice, I don’t mean no disrespect. But I don’t think it’ll help you none.

SAMSON: Why don’t you let me decide that much?

WITNESS: Because, sir, I’m not sure it’ll be just you that takes that consequence.

SAMSON: Arthur, we can argue about it ‘til both our lips turn blue, but I can’t let you leave my station until I get a statement from you. Do you need some more time in here to think about what you want to say?

WITNESS: Am I in trouble, Sergeant?

SAMSON: Not right now, no. We just want to know what happened to your friend.

WITNESS: Be it on your head, then, sir. I’ll talk, but you’re going to think I’m a madman.

SAMSON: Why would we think that?

WITNESS: Because I… I think I saw something that can’t be real.

SAMSON: Try me. I’ve heard it all, and I’ll hear you out, too.

WITNESS: Okay, fine. But… look, I think… Aw, hell, just listen.

***

She came out of nowhere.

The owl, I mean. Or, woman, I suppose. One second the road was empty, and then she was there. I was driving home from the bar with a buddy of mine, Clayton’s his name––well, Clayton was his name… Oh, God…

Anyhow, Clayton and I, we… we had met up with some guys from work tonight, and he needed a ride home. See, the rest of the boys weren’t ready to go just yet, but Clayton was messing with one of the new waitresses, some young thing that ain’t used to his antics yet. Anyhow, Clayton threw back a few too many, drunk as a skunk, and the girl said he touched her backside. Well, the manager didn’t take kindly to that, as you can imagine, and Clayton got himself booted from the place. We live in the same neighborhood anyhow, it wasn’t no problem to drive him home. I’d only had one, so I was alright, and I was ready to go, anyhow. Whole neighborhood is friends, everyone knows each other back there. Our wives are friends, too, you know. Oh, God, our wives…

Anyway, she just appeared there in the middle of the road in front of us. I only––look, I understand the risks, sir, but I got kids, they text, and––well, I suppose there’s no excuse, but I checked my phone for a second, only looked away from the road for a heartbeat.

When I looked back, she was standing right at the mouth of the bridge closest to us, sorta blocking the entrance. That first time I saw her, all I could really catch was these long, golden-white wings, that’s what I remember best. I say golden-white because I couldn’t be sure at the time if they were gold, white, or a mix of the two. She was only lit up by my headlights, and that old Ford ain’t too bright anymore. I would’ve said she was an angel, except that face… that face don’t belong on any creature of God, on that I can be positive.

I swerved before I hit her, I swear I did, and that was all I could see of her. Just a woman-ish shape with big, golden wings and a terrifying face.

Once I got off the road, my truck hit the side of the ditch and slammed to a stop. My headlights weren’t facing the road anymore, they were pointed out over the river. You know it, don’t you? The one on Snaggy Mountain Road, the river that runs between them lakes out there?

Anyway, I checked on Clayton and he seemed dazed, but mostly alright. I was dazed, too, but when I turned around to see what the hell had happened, the bird woman was gone.

I mean, she was gone.

I don’t know how else to tell you, Sergeant, she just wasn’t there. The only sign that she had been there at all was a few gold-white feathers in the street, but they could’ve been hawk feathers, or hell, owl feathers that time of night.

I got out of my truck and went over to them to see if I could figure out where she’d gone, or why she’d been wearing those big wings in the middle of the night, middle of the street, no less. See, at the time I thought maybe it was a costume, there’s churches all over these parts and I figured she’d been rehearsing some play for the local Sunday school. Didn’t exactly explain why she’d been out in the street, but… Well, anyway, I looked for her, I wanted to ask what the hell she’d been thinking, but I didn’t see her anywhere. Maybe she’d gone behind my truck or something, I didn’t know.

So I walked over there, but I didn’t see no sign of her. She’d just disappeared. My curiosity got the better of me, though, and I picked up one of those feathers from the street. And my God, Sergeant… it was so beautiful. I ain’t no bird connoisseur, don’t much care for ‘em most of the time, but I know a pretty feather when I see one. It was creamy-white, but at the tip and around the edges it was shining gold. I mean, it literally sparkled, with these glittery reflections thrown everywhere around it. Looking at it was nearly hypnotizing, it was so beautiful. I remember little tiny rainbows speckling my hands, and all just from the truck’s headlights behind me, I mean, indirect light, and still all these little sparkles everywhere.

If I hadn’t seen her face, I would’ve been even more convinced she was an angel, just from the feather alone. But I did see her face and I didn’t know how to make sense of it now, because how could this pretty little feather come from a being as terrifying as that woman with the wings? I wish I had kept one of them, but I must’ve dropped it when… Well. By the time it was all over I couldn’t find any of ‘em anymore.

Anyway, Clayton got out of the truck, too, and came over to me, and picked up another one of the feathers from the road, and he asked me, “What the hell do you think this came from?” And I told him I didn’t know, and asked if he’d seen that lady in the road blocking the bridge. He said he hadn’t, and I didn’t understand how that was possible. He asked, “Is that why you swerved off the road? I thought all that beer had finally caught up to you is all.” And he nudged me in the ribs, like everything was fine and normal.

Aw, hell, Clayton…

Right. I’m… I’m sorry, I…

Okay. Right, okay.

So anyhow, Clayton and I were standing together in the street, one of us on each of the yellow lines in the middle of the road, when I noticed that there were a lot more rainbows around us now, way more than could’ve been possible from just the handful of feathers left in the street. I turned back around… and she was back. I was standing there with my mouth half-open in the middle of the street, holding a stupid little feather––shit, I guess holding one of her feathers––and she was there, perched up on the railing of the bridge behind us. I was about to say to Clayton that she was there, but as soon as I locked eyes with her, she… It’s hard to explain the feeling she gives you just by lookin’ at you. I can’t describe it, really, except it was like someone had dumped ice water on my head and I froze right there to the spot. All I could do was stare at her as she put a finger over her beak like she was shushing me––her beak, Sergeant, not a mouth, a beak––and I remember I had the weirdest thought of being surprised, surprised that she had wings and hands.

Listen, don’t look at me like that, Sergeant, I told you it was crazy.

I’ll try to give you a better picture. She had those long wings, and a pair of arms by her sides, and now I could get a better look at her, but I had to let my eyes adjust first. It was almost hard to look at her, she was practically glowing just from the headlights of my truck, and her feathers were so pure white that they blinded me for a second, like she was her own little moon perched over the river. But then I could see her again, and she was… She was so terrifying, I thought my heart was about to beat out of my chest or stop ticking altogether. But it didn’t make her any less beautiful, somehow. I remember, her eyes were coal-black all the way through, no irises or pupils or whites, just black. They were so dark they looked like empty holes, like I was looking straight into her, but they were… captivating, is that the right word? Anyway, and they were so pretty, with long lashes and a sparkle to them. And it made it matter less, somehow, that the rest of her face was… owl.

I mean… as in, beak, feathers, no ears… owl.

What else do you want me to say? She looked like a barn owl, you know those white and brown ones? With the heart-shaped face? She looked like one of them with human arms and big giant wings and long black hair. Her owl legs ended in regular owl claws, only they were huge, like human-foot size, and they were wrapped around the railing, but she also had arms that looked pretty human, except that they were covered in those same feathers as her wings. Her whole body was covered in those feathers. And… scared as I was, Sergeant, I was distracted by how gorgeous she was.

You a Godly man?

Right. So you know how they described angels as being terrifying to the people they appeared to? Every prophet of God had that in common: scared of the angels who gave ‘em the news. That’s how I felt, I think. I understand what they were saying now, because I was scared shitless, yeah, but… There was something so magical, so… alien, but also angelic? Those same tiny little rainbows that had speckled my hand were everywhere now, all over the bridge and the truck, me and Clayton both splashed with ‘em, and they only moved when she did. And she only moved to follow me with her head. I was scared, but… I wasn’t, too. I don’t know how else to say it. Terror, and awe. A perfect balance of the two.

I finally found my voice again, and I shouted at Clayton, something real smart like “Waahh!” How do you find the words to say, “Look out, man, a giant bird-owl-lady is behind you and she’s scaring the piss outta me!” Maybe, if I’d’ve found the strength to tell him, or at least say “Run,” something other than an idiot yell of nonsense, maybe…

Anyway, that’s… That’s when Clayton finally turned around. Couldn’t have been more than a couple of seconds, you know, but these things seem to take forever when you’re in the moment. He seemed sorta the same as me, scared and yet fascinated, and he didn’t make a sound. Just stared at her with his jaw on the road, just like me. I remember he stared around at all the rainbows, like he couldn’t make sense of what he was seeing. And then… I think this was his mistake, see, because she didn’t seem like she was really going to hurt us until Clayton went to reach for her. She was just sitting there, watching us with those big black eyes of hers, perfectly still except to tilt her head every so often. Not threatening, exactly, just… freaky. But Clayton, I guess he was drunk still and the drink made him brave, and he took a few stumble-steps toward her and held his hand up to her, like he wanted to touch her or something stupid like that, what a damn fool.

He almost brushed her wing––hell, he might’ve brushed it, I couldn’t see him too well with the shadows from the headlights. Anyway, I don’t know if he touched her or not but next thing I knew, she had him by the shoulders in her talons and her giant wings opened and she flew out over the river with Clayton.

I did scream, then, but nothing more intelligent than the first time. Just Clayton’s name.

I ran to the railing but of course I couldn’t do anything, I just stood there and watched, and screamed. The owl-woman’s wings beat the air so hard that I got shoved backwards, and I had to fight to stay close to the edge of the bridge where I could see. She didn’t fly far, just far enough that I couldn’t reach her from the bridge even if I had stretched my whole body out after her, and I tried, I practically dislocated my own shoulder trying to reach for him. She was confused, though, I think my yell startled her, and she turned back with Clayton dangling underneath of her. He was… He was screaming, calling out for me and reaching out, and… and there was blood running down the front of him, where her talons were holding him, and these spots bloomin’ up across his chest. It was grotesque, I’ll tell you what…

And then looked at me and she tilted her head to the side, that way that owls do, like they’re thinking about something real serious. She… she waved at me, and I thought she was fixin’ to bring Clayton back, but… then she opened her talons, and he fell into the river. I couldn’t do anything but watch as my buddy fell, screaming, and hit the surface, and then a rock, and then he washed up on the bank, not moving. I don’t know where the lady went, she disappeared, took all those damned rainbows with her, too, and it was so dark after she was gone.

And that’s when I called for help. I went back to the truck and called with my cell. And while I was waiting on your detectives to show up, I found a way down to the river from the road. I almost died myself, trying to get down the embankment in the dark like that, all them rocks and tree roots trippin’ me up the whole way down, but I couldn’t leave Clayton down there, not with that thing still around somewhere. She’d disappeared, but I knew she was watching. That’s how I got all these scuffs and scrapes on my hands and my clothes, I fell a bunch of times trying to get down there.

And when I did, I… Clayton was… He had these wounds on his shoulders, just little pokes really, but they looked painful, and… his, his head… I think his neck broke when he fell, because it was tilted at practically the same angle as the owl’s had been when she dropped him.

I was still with his body when your detective found me. You know the rest.

***

SAMSON: And so… just so I’m clear, Arthur, you are telling me that your friend, Marcus Clayton, was snatched by a giant owl-woman, who then carried him over the river and dropped him into it?

WITNESS: Yes, sir. I told you you’d think I’m insane. It sounds insane, and I know that, don’t you think I know that? But it’s the truth, I swear it. I swear it on my life, my wife’s life, on… on Clayton’s life, I… Oh, God…

SAMSON: Mm… Have a tissue if you need it. Give me one moment, Arthur, I’ll be right back.

WITNESS: Wait, am I free to go now?

SAMSON: Almost, Arthur, almost. I just need to go speak to someone before his shift ends, and I’ll be back. You work on finishing that coffee while I’m gone. Sergeant Samson pausing the recording, time is currently 3:31 AM.

SAMSON: Sergeant Samson resuming the interview, time is now 3:49 AM. Arthur, this is Detective Rhodes. He’s the one who found you with Mr. Clayton at the scene.

WITNESS: Right, I remember. Hi, Detective Rhodes.

RHODES: Hello, sir. I found your glasses, by the way.

WITNESS: Oh, did you? I appreciate that, thank you. Practically blind as a bat without the damn things.

SAMSON: Now, Rhodes, for the tape?

RHODES: Right. Detective Calvin Rhodes, badge number 1335.

SAMSON: Thanks. Now, Mr. Baker, Rhodes here was just telling me what he saw when he got to the scene. Rhodes?

RHODES: Yes, sir. Mr. Baker––

WITNESS: Arthur, if you don’t mind.

RHODES: Uh––Arthur, alright then. Arthur, I saw the body of Mr. Clayton myself. And I have to tell you, sir, I do not remember any wounds on the body at all, except the broken neck.

WITNESS: You––what?

RHODES: No blood, no punctures. Just the injury that killed him, the broken neck.

WITNESS: But that… That don’t make any sense. That owl lady, she picked him up, and–and her talons were so sharp, of course they left punctures! Maybe you just couldn’t see ‘em in the dark, or… I don’t know, Detective, but I’m telling you, he has––had––wounds in both of his shoulders. His shirt was soaked through with all that blood, how could it not be? Go look again, you’ll see.

SAMSON: I already called the morgue, Arthur. They confirmed what Detective Rhodes is telling you. There are no punctures anywhere on Mr. Clayton’s body.

WITNESS: But, I saw… No, that’s impossible, that… That can’t be, the blood…

SAMSON: Are you sure you don’t have anything else to tell me, Mr. Baker?

WITNESS: That’s impossible…

SAMSON: You wanna know what I think happened, Mr. Baker?

WITNESS: I… I don’t understand, she…

SAMSON: I think you pushed your friend.

WITNESS: You––what? You think I killed Clayton? Why in the hell would I do that?

SAMSON: Well, I think maybe there’s something you’re not telling me. Maybe he’s sleeping with your wife. Maybe his boy is dating your daughter, and you don’t like it. I don’t know yet.

WITNESS: That’s not––That didn’t–– Listen, it’s not what you think, but… Aw, hell, I guess they don’t call you detectives for nothing, huh?

SAMSON: What’s that supposed to mean, sir? Am I on to something here?

WITNESS: No! Well, I… Look, Clayton’s affair with Meredith was ages ago, and I don’t hold it against her any more than I held it against Clayton. We work together, we go out for drinks together, everything is fine now. And that bird lady has nothing to do with any of that, she killed Clayton!

SAMSON: Arthur Baker, you’re under arrest for the murder of Marcus Clayton. Rhodes?

WITNESS: What? You can’t arrest me, I didn’t do anything! I watched my best friend die, I didn’t kill him! You don’t understand, that woman––It was that bird, I swear it!

RHODES: You have the right to remain silent.

WITNESS: No!

RHODES: Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.

WITNESS: I told you everything, Sergeant Samson, I swear I did! This ain’t fair, it ain’t right!

RHODES: You have the right to an attorney.

SAMSON: Did you expect me to believe all that horseshit about a giant bird woman? It was creative, I’ll give you that, Mr. Baker, but you can’t honestly expect that I’d believe you.

WITNESS: I trusted you! You said you’d hear me out, you lied to me!

SAMSON: Yes, well, that makes two of us, don’t it, Mr. Baker?

RHODES: If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you. If you decide to answer questions right now without an attorney pres––

WITNESS: I want a lawyer, now!

RHODES: Present, you will have the right to stop answering at any time until you talk to an attorney. Stetson? Take Mr. Baker here to the holding cell. Sarge, can I talk to you for just a minute?

SAMSON: Right now?

RHODES: Yeah, if you got the time.

SAMSON: Okay, then, let’s step back in here. What’s eatin’ you, Rhodes?

RHODES: Do you really think Baker killed his friend, sir?

SAMSON: With that ridiculous story about giant bird ladies snatching random men from bridges? Yes, I do. I think his buddy slept with his wife, I think he held a grudge for a long time, and I think tonight he took his chance.

RHODES: Right. You’re probably right.

SAMSON: What is it, Detective?

RHODES: I only… well. I took this from the scene, sir. I know I should’ve bagged and tagged it, but––

SAMSON: What in the name of God––is that––?

RHODES: I think so, sir.

SAMSON: I… Wow. He described it pretty damn well, I’d say.

RHODES: What did he say about it?

SAMSON: That it was perfect. He called it a damn pretty feather, but God above, it’s… aw, hell, what’s the word… ethereal?

RHODES: What’s that mean?

SAMSON: Too good to be part of this world. Angelic.

RHODES: Oh. Well, then, yeah, I’d say that’s the right word for it.

SAMSON: Where exactly did you find this?

RHODES: I… sir, it… It fell out of the victim’s hand when we moved him into the bag.

SAMSON: Are you sure?

RHODES: I’m sure, sir.

SAMSON: Bag it and tag it, then put it in my office. I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but it seems to me we ought to hang onto this.

RHODES: You got it, Serg.

SAMSON: And, Rhodes… keep this between us for now.

RHODES: Yes, sir.

END TRANSCRIPT

MARYLAND STATE POLICE RECORDS

GARRETT COUNTY DIVISION

FILE: Officer sketch based on witness description.

LEAD DETECTIVE: SERGEANT RICHARD SAMSON

CASE NO.: [REDACTED]