Deep, deep, in the heart of the Pine Barrens a man rushed between the trees. The woods were completely silent, save for the pounding of his feet through the underbrush, the pants of his exertion, and his occasional frantic shouts. Any rational outside observer watching his desperate flight through the woods would be forced to the unfortunate conclusion that Sam West was a madman. He whipped his flashlight around the dark woods, sometimes stopping and focusing the beam on nothing at all and staring at it intently. Sometimes he stopped, or flailed out of the way of some unseen attacker. His words where always some hurried order "TO THE LEFT!" Or "HOLD HIM DOWN!"

Of course, he didn't care how he looked right now. Right now a life and death struggle was taking place before his eyes. He didn't have the time to look sane.

From his perspective the Barrens were filled with noise. Low, guttural roars competed with his pitched shirking screeches. The beating of massive wings, the air of which he could occasionally feel. The constant accompaniment of bushes rattling and branches snapping. It was by this last one that he was able to follow the fight, which by this point he was only able capture fleeting glimpses of in the beam of his light. A raised claw here, a clover hoof there. Sometimes the fight was carried into the treetops and he was showered with debris from above. 

It was then that he leaped to the side, as a tangled ball of leathery green skin and feathers dropped from above him. He turned his flashlight on it. The Owlman was on top, feathers ruffled, suit torn, bleeding from numerous wounds. He dug his claws into the Devils chest, thick black blood oozing from between it's talons. The Devil beat its wings furiously, it's goat-like mouth locked around the Owlman's shoulder. It tried to roll, right itself, But every time the Owlman would shift it's weight to keep the Devil pinned.

Sam approached, cautiously. "Hold him steady!" He shouted over the din. "Let him tire himself out!" He looked at his watch. Five O'clock, A.M. It an hour he would be able to get a good look at the Devil in the light of day. Another cryptid he could knock off his list. Sam positively glowed with satisfaction.

Then the Devil managed to get its scrabbling hooves up under the Owlman. It pulled the Owlman in, the suddenly let go as  it gave a mighty kick. The Owlman was dislodged and thrown to the side as the Devil righted itself. "No!" Shouted Sam as the creature beat its wing again. As it began to lift off he ran forward and threw himself onto it's back. It let out a surprised roar, but nonetheless kept lifting off. The Owlman rushed to its feet just as the Devil was about to shoot up into the trees, leaping and digging one huge claw into its side as it did.

They were carried up, the off balance Devil weaving through the trees but unable to avoid the branches. Sam pressed his face to the creatures back, enduring the scrapes and impacts as best he could. He heard one last crash, felt no more branches, then opened his eyes. They had burst into some sort of clearing. He could see an ornate mansion all lit up, its gates open and welcoming. Then he realized that he could see all this was because Jersey Devil was nowhere to be found. 

Then he started to fall.

He and the Owlman landed in a sorry heap right in front of the open front door. All the air was driven from Sam's lungs and he spent a few chocking seconds trying to get it back and deal with the pain of his belly flop, but at least that was preferable to losing the equipment in his bag. He coughed, sputtered, tried to stand, fell back down, and just laid there for a moment wallowing in his frustration. "We had him." He said, slamming a fist into the soft grass. "He was literally in my grasp."

He took a moment to collect himself before rising and stumbling to the front door. He knocked on the side three times, as loud as he could, and shouted. "Excuse me? Sorry to intrude, I think I might need some help. Can I use your washroom?"