u/Friendly-Start8147

Last week I was assigned to an extroardinarily odd call. I'd've thought we were safe and quiet up in our small town, but I was wrong.

I was given these pieces of evidence from another officer, who's name I will not state, and they asked me to try and find some further leads to the case.

These pieces of evidence have been kept strictly off the books for now. I will have to turn them in at some point, but until I can find more evidence, I think I will go above protocol for now.

There were three things in particular that stumped me, the letter, the scene, and the affadavit written by an officer at the scene.

The letter was a bit confusing, as I'm not sure how it stayed so clean despite its placement, and how there wasn't more blood at the scene. The whole thing just seemed odd. I've tried resourcing to other investigators but they won't touch this case for whatever reason.

-

It was raining the night I first said goodbye. You had gifted me a smile so gracious and loving. I hated it, to know you saw the good I could not. Even when I hurt you and we went on living, you still smiled.

I carry that resentment with me, and even as I plunged that knife into your chest, when last we said goodbye, you still smiled at me. You had cursed me with a smile so pitiful and loving. You saw the good that I could not. You knew then of what I really was, not what I chose to show you.

I still see your face in the windows of the streets. I still smell your perfume as I pass the storefronts. I still hear your laugh in the crowds of people. It's torture to imagine you there in those places, loving me despite my shortcomings.

*There was a future I saw in a dream, you and I around a table, a child, the warm sunlight bathing our kitchen. It was strange though, I could see you, feel you, smell you, but I couldn't see your face.*

My home office became my sanctuary. I managed to clear everything out, paint over the walls with a fresh coat of grey. I sealed the windows, no drafts, no sunlight. I wanted the room to be empty, just a single four panel door with a simple light fixture in the middle of the ceiling.

To any casual passerby, it was prison, but I found comfort in it. My first day within my office felt like an eternity, but when I left the room, it was only ten minutes. In that eternity I could avoid the things that reminded me of you, and yet the memory still haunts me.

*I like the color red. It's beautiful, passionate, ambitious. You know, women can see more shades of red than men can? Guess that makes me just a little bit better than you.*

You'll just try to find me. I deserve to be alone, I always have. Even before I met her I'd believed myself no worthier of a person's kinship. I'm a lost cause, there was nothing of worth in this world that I brought. To make something of myself was to inconvenience others and the noise of my own life brought irritation to those around.

I'm lonely, and I prefer it that way. But you didn't. I remember sitting across from you at the coffee shop, drinking on some cream concoction, citing the various works of romantic literature you found tasteful. It was enrapturing.

You had my attention and you refused to break it. I followed you around like a lost puppy. You fed me, nurtured me, trained me to put the toilet seat down after every flush. It was comfortable, cozy.

For once in my miserable life, I had felt like I had a purpose, a drive, a focus. I wanted to show you that there was more to me than you could ever hope for.

*Oh wow! Thank you for making dinner, I was really dreading doing that today. The place looks so clean too! You've really been busy today, what's gotten into you?*

God, I wish you would just get out of my head, let me forget what I did to you. I loved you, but now your gone and you should keep it that way, please leave me alone.

My cell slowly began consuming more of my time, minutes turned to hours, hours into days. I could feel my body eating away at itself. I refused to eat, trying to punish myself for every time I thought of you.

It's been getting more frequent now, the times I try to retreat. They never help, it never leads to anything good.

*I think I'll put this away in my safe keeping box, one day I may look through it again and reminisce with you.*

Fury ignited my muscles, why won't you just leave me alone?! I threw my fists into the air, the loose, stuffy gas sifting around me. There was nothing else to grab in this room. It was empty. I was naked, no phone, no furniture. I tore up the carpet, left with the cold concrete foundation below it.

The spot I laid in started to stain, oil from my skin dying the impenetrable rock a murky brown. Disgusting, I should shower, but not today, I didn't need to go outside. I had nowhere to be, nobody would want to see me anyway.

*If anything ever happens to me, just know that I will always love you.*

I awoke in my prison, the moist, hot air of the room suffocating my awakening. Before me lay your note to me. The last thing you left for me. The words I couldn't read, but knew in my heart I would find them.

You always had a way of singing to me, in words I knew only vaguely but expressed to me in magnitudes I could always understand. Perhaps that's why, when I was on deaths door, you stood above me, smiling, not with pity, not to grace me, but to show me you still loved me.

When the last morsel of my consciousness slipped away, you knelt beside me, stole away my pain, and took me in your arms.

*I will always love you*

**-**

**\* Per police investigative report, 137-829-B:** A ten by eight inch parcel of notebook paper scrawled in pencil with dark brown fingerprints of unknown origin. This was found during a murder/suicide on a couple located in North Vermont near the border of Canada. The note was folded length-wise several times and was stuffed within a complex puncture located in the suspect's right upper abdominal quadrant. It has been noted by some investigative linguists that the note can be read backwards as well.

**-**

**Affidavit 5/23/1987 - Session 4 - Officer R-G**

I was assigned to the investigation of the Coleson murders up north of town. The scene was mostly clean of evidence, barring a few notes scrawled along the walls. We initially found the body in the one of the basement bedrooms. The egress window had been covered from both the outside and inside. The concrete foundation was bare, from where we found the body.

When we found the body, it was in an advanced state of decay, but parts of it were missing. Namely, the left forearm, both feet, and liver were removed. At this point in the investigation, we are unsure as to the reason for this. No blood was found in other rooms of the house. No signs of forced entry.

The entry wound for the liver and the way in which the limbs were removed is consistent with autonomous amputation, that being that the owner of the limb removed it themselves. It is my suspicion that the liver and flesh of the limbs was consumed by the owner in a state of delirium.

Next to the body was a note from a purported love interest. Further investigation has created no leads as to persons of interest.

reddit.com
u/Friendly-Start8147 — 25 days ago
▲ 183 r/RealHorrorExperience+1 crossposts

​

I remember that night. It was a little chilly indoors, snow was falling outside. You'd have thought with the amount of money that hospitals bring in, they could at least afford a quality heating system.

There was a strange scent, not unlike the smell of under-bathed patients, but this was different.

You ever stood in a cadaver theater? You know, the kind where the body is out to display the various hidden viscera? Strange place, if the world decided to hide away the macabre beneath a layer of flesh, I'd be all the happier with keeping it there.

Though the creeping mystery of what lies beneath always got to me. Guess you could say that it was that night. The one I discovered what really happens to bodies.

A patient came in, obtunded, no signs of breathing, pulse was weak and thready. An obvious emergency.

Within the next few minutes, they became the star of the show. Resuscitation efforts lasted an hour, you could see the draining hope on the faces of my coworkers as the realization of this man's death was sealed before he was brought in.

The doctor ordered one last round of epinephrine, and with the final pulse check, he said his verdict.

"Time of death, 0247"

The few nurses looked to each other with knowing, charge quickly whisked away from the room. Like a well oiled machine, the various staff cleaned and prepared the body.

No signs of identification, invasive efforts left in place, disconnecting the various monitors, pumps, and shutting off the Zoll.

Despite his tragic demise, our staff was taught to handle bodies with care. Humanity was something that never left a patient, even after death.

The warmth drains from their body, skin pales, muscles relax, brain slows to a halt. Nothing in this person would suggest life, and yet he never cooled, never paled.

Ten minutes had passed, I chose to remain with the patient. This late at night was usually the time that newcomers would ebb out. Couldn't have a complaint if you're asleep, right?

Well, this patient would be the last of the night.

I looked to the primary nurse, she had decided to take lead on preparing post-mortem care. She was diligent in her work, I was only able to follow so briefly behind her.

See I wasn't much for that stuff. I enjoyed the fast paced express care. Nose swab, drop a pipe, give fluids and send home. The simple stuff. I was good at it, but when it came to complex issues, ethical matters, I would fall so far behind.

The room was just the three of us. She broached the idea.

"He hasn't cooled off yet. Can you grab a temperature?"

I obliged, scoffing at the notion. Sure enough though, he was running hot.

Puzzled, she called in the doctor. He had already spent the last half hour contacting family and writing his notes on the patient.

He entered the room, half disgusted, half tired from the long shift.

We approached him with the news and his eyes widened. He left the room in a hurry.

Safe to say that the whole situation kept us puzzled. What was happening with this patient, what did the doctor know?

Before I could finish any meaningful theory, he came back to the room with an ultrasound cart.

He stared daggers into the primary nurse and I, "Expose the patient, I need to see something."

We pulled away the patient's gown, I started with exasperation, "What are you on about?"

The provider didn't acknowledge me. He was too invested with the patient. As he sprayed the jelly along the patient's chest, a subtle cracking arose from him, like his skin was cracking from the jelly.

He then applied the probe to the patient, refusing to touch the body with anything but the probe. What he found beneath was a shimmering, pulsating mass. Nondescript, only so much an ultrasound can see.

The primary nurse looked on in terror, "What is that?!"

The provider removed the probe and spoke in a hushed tone, "The patient isn't dead, it hasn't been born yet."

The primary nurse looked on, expressionless, disbelief slowly painting her face as the silent moments grew on. I looked between her and the doctor and the only idea I could muster slipped from my lips, "Are you suggesting we perform a C-section?"

The provider nodded, he turned to us and with urgency and ushered us into action, "We have five minutes to deliver, contact birthplace, let them know they are getting a new admit."

What happened next was a flurry of bodies, all walks of medical experience came in and out of that room yet none could define this experience with any reasonable certainty that what we were trying to save was a neonate.

Monitors were reattached to the deceased patient, I had taken to establishing a sterile field with the provider. Within minutes we started the procedure, an emergency and arguably dirty cesarean section of a deceased male patient's chest.

I was awe struck when we finally delivered it, a small, placenta wrapped neonate rustling beneath its amniotic sac. To this day, I cannot explain how this happened. On February 17th of 2022, we delivered a healthy baby girl named 'Cindy'.

She was placed under state protection, our social workers continued to provide any outside resources and get in contact with extended family, but it appears as though she was the last of her line.

Last week I brought her home, I applied for adoption and was approved within short order. I was worried at first, her checkups came back normal, she has a pediatrician, and my work is offering me maternity leave so we could get settled.

It's 9:46 p.m. of February 26th. I can't find her, and I'm starting to feel an intense, writhing pressure within my chest.

reddit.com
u/Dont_lookbehind — 26 days ago