I found the other fox, the male. Spread out on my front lawn like a snow angel. If snow angels were made of gore and grass. It was the first thing I saw after I walked out of my front door this morning as I headed to work. It was an early shift, so none of my neighbors were even up yet. I called the Humane Society again after I got to work and pulled myself together enough to be coherent. I wound up having to leave work early, as I was so rattled that I was pretty much worthless to everyone. I got home just in time to see the HS cleanup van leaving my parking lot. The grass was stained dark from what was left of the fox. I hurried inside so I wouldn't have to look at it anymore.
It's raining now, thankfully. But what or whoever killed my foxes wanted me to see this. At least, that's my prevailing theory, I don't have any proof. It could have just been a horrific coincidence. Or there really is a monster out there that's letting itself into my house in the middle of the night and slaying anything that it might view as a competing predator. Clearly I need more sleep, as my imagination won't stop generating insane fantasy scenarios to insert some logic into a situation that has none.
I'm going to stop for now, my neighbor's basset hound won't stop freaking out on the lawn. And it's giving me a significant headache. At least my brain and my heart feel the same now.