The Stranger

A chance encounter

Fear trickled up his spine as his truck pulled into the driveway. The scene was spread out in front of him, like something out of a horror flick. He cautiously pulled over his cruiser, he inspected the surrounding area. All around him were towering pine trees surrounding a small piece of property that included a long vacant one-story house.

"Officer Martinez, umm I'm reporting a 2104. Repeat 2104, at Rm 204 five miles from gate 204. I'm going to need the spread, I've never seen shit like this before."

"Copy, give them about 10 - 15 minutes, is there any immediate threats?"

"Negative, everything here looks clear. I'm going to check around make sure nobody else is hurt nearby."

He reluctantly climbed out the truck, surveying the area with his flashlight, he had a firm grip on his weapon the whole time. Shining the light around the property, he could see no evidence of anybody nearby. All that could be heard was the sound of wind rustling the pines high above and the whirring of his engine as it idled nearby.

As he stepped closer the smell hit him, it was a sweet repugnant smell causing him to flinch. Trying to gain control he looked over to the origin of the smell and recoiled. The windshield really blocked the detail that was before him at the moment.

Before he could retreat back to his truck, something told him to look back at the corpse. He steeled one more look, when it came crashing down on him. The exposed heart was still beating. . .
----

"What the fuck are we going to do about this. This isn't the first one, its number three Mitchell, its fucking number three. How does this not cross our radar? I want the fuck responsible for canvassing this area for possible serial killers, I fucking want his head on my desk in Langley the moment I get back."

"Sir, we couldn't have known it was a patter so soon, nobody has ever seen anything like this before."

"Did you not see the file on the first one? Nobody kills and creates an alter to god knows who the fuck this sick sonofabitch made this too. Goddammit, do you know what will happen if this shit its the news? Do you know Mitchell? Its fucking me, not you or any of you cronies, its me. I want a detailed report, I want forensics, I want the works. And Mitchell."

"Yes sir?"

"Don't fuck it up, or your gone, you get me?"

Yes, sir I get you."

"Good, send me regular reports hourly. Get another person out here, we need everyone we can."

Nodding his head at the flurry of activity across the area. Men in white hazmat suits were scurrying around getting every shred of evidence available. Mitchell turned from his boss and began working. Snapping his fingers as he grabbed files from the makeshift table outside the forensics van, his assistant Connall came in an anxious rush of movement.

"I need everything you can get out of these hick motherfuckers. I want you to bring the Sheriff over to my new office tomorrow morning, we got a lot to talk about, also we have 2 hours before sunset, I want this whole fucking road shut down until everything is cleared out."

"Sir, its a close knit community, don't you think this will get out no matter what we do?"

"We have no fucking choice Connall, tight-knit or not if it gets out we need time. We need only rumors, nothing more. Imagine what would happen if this shit got out."

Mitchell couldn't get the picture out of his mind. It all didn't matter to him, Mr. Stevenson, Connall, the stress of running such an operation when someone sick enough to do this was still out there lurking and waiting for their next victim.

Skimming through the file, he paused at the picture. The body was nailed to the cross, a face of horror and fear forever frozen on his features. Everything below was unrecognizable, just open flesh hanging out onto the floor. What really sickened him about it all was the shoulder blades covered in gore to pushed outwards to look like wings. Somebody sick enough to do this needed to be off the streets no matter the cost.