Short story of a man retelling his days experience. |
You know that house on Oak Road, just next to the primary school. Yea, that place. Let me tell you that there is something evil about that house. An evilness that will make even you believe in the devil again. I have always been given the task of getting it cleaned up. And I am telling you that I have been there not once, not twice, but at least five times in the last five years. By the way, thanks for the beer mate. What I am telling you here is the truth, the whole god-forsaken truth of what me and Joe saw there today. We got the call at five-forty-five this morning. Although Joe took the call, when I heard where we were going, I knew. Something must have crawled up my spine when he showed me the address, but I just told him I was cold. Anyway, we arrived at the house and me and Joe grabbed our gear and walked in. Thinking now about it, even the cops looked at us a little more strangely than usual, but we were used to that, being the clean-up crew and all. From the outside, the house is quite plain like. Double storey place with a wooden exterior and a veranda that runs along the outside. Must have been quite a nice house in its day, but is now a little rundown. The yard looked like it could have done with a mow or some care. I still don’t understand why people don’t just have evergreens. That would avoid all the slippery dead leaves lying round the place. At the door, Joe asked the cop there, “So, what happened here?” The cop muttered something about a triple murder before standing aside for us. But, man, was I in for a surprise. As I said earlier, I am used to this kind of stuff, but that place was beyond it. Anyway, before me and Joe start any clean-up, it is always a good idea to recon the whole place, see what we need to get done and then make a plan on the best way to start. We have this understanding, me and Joe, on getting the worst done first and then the other stuff can be taken care of. The hallway had blood all over the walls; splatter like from the floor to the ceiling. Whoever it was that done this must have been some sort of berserker like. He had obviously been chasing one of the victims because we saw these blood hands along the walls as you go up the staircase to the top. On the landing I see this large blood stain. It doesn’t take an Einstein to work out that was where the victim had fallen, bleeding out and soaking blood into the boards. There was a kind of musty smell in the house, like damp clothes having not been put away properly. But it was the footprints in the blood that was so creepy, like the killer had just stood there and watched. Big prints with those tyre treads, just like what you’re wearing. Working boots like. Me and Joe then continued to the top floor where Joe goes into the bedroom first. I hardly had time to follow him when he came out and, I swear, he leant against the doorframe and puked right there. The first time I had seen Joe puke on the job and here he was, making more work for us. He held out his hand like to stop me and told me to carry on to the next room. But like I said before, I knew this place and I really thought then that nothing could make me go like Joe did, so I just pushed past him and walked into the room. You laugh. Even now, as I think about it, I want to do just like Joe did there. The bed had been ripped up like some wolverine-type person had been looking for something. I won’t go into details man, but I will say that I saw bits of flesh and blonde hair all over the place. Me and Joe, when we saw that, we just walked out. No ways can I go back to that place. They will probably need to burn the place down. I will never again think that there isn't evil in this world, you know. Not the little stuff that people complain about like politicians and them. No sir. This was pure evil, evil that makes you believe again in the existence of the devil. Oh dear. Here I am going on like there is no tomorrow and we haven’t been introduced. And you like buying me beers and all. My name is Mike. “Damon.” |