For those who are new to the situation: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/10l5hjg/i_think_something_followed_me_home_what_do_i_do/
Aside from shitting my pants and dumping a whole bunch of salt across my door frames like some commenters recommended, I proceeded to do what anyone should. I called an adult. And I will regret that choice for the rest of my life.
Last week there was a bit of a stir in my town, a 10 year old boy hadn’t made it home from drama practice despite living a quarter mile away from the school he was at practice in. No trace of him was found. At least, until I noticed the kid under the street light in front of my house.
The face was practically imprinted on my mind, and it wasn’t hard to bring up a news article featuring a picture of the kid. And yup! That’s him. You know, aside from the clotted blood dribbling down his chin and the distended stomach.
So I called 911. “911, this call is being recorded. Please state the nature of your emergency.”
“Uh, yeah hi… A child went missing last week in my town, and I think I found him.”
“Oh! That’s great! Is he safe now? Did you take him in?”
“Uh, no. No I did not. He’s uh. I don’t know that he’s well.”
“What do you mean! It’s freezing outside! You left him in the cold!?”
“Yeah, I sure did. He had clotted blood running down the front of him. And he wasn’t shivering despite the cold. Just staring up at my house. At the window I was looking at him from actually.”
“What’s the address? I’ll have a unit sent over right away.” At this point the operator is using a tone filled with disdain and disgust, but she didn’t know.
“Uh, maybe you should send more than one… That kid scares the shit out of me.” And then I rattled off my address.
The operator must not have passed along that last bit of my request. And I really wish she had.
Within ten minutes a police car ROARS down my street, sirens blazing. And sure enough, the kid’s still standing there, lit by the police car’s headlights. And he’s still staring at me.
The cop steps out of his car with a blanket, and starts walking over to the kid. I couldn’t hear what was being said because my windows were closed. But as the cop drew nearer, the kid turned his head and looked at the police officer.
Then the car’s lights turned off. All of them and the siren. Pop! Off they go.
And within seconds, the screaming started. And then there were several gunshots. And then another scream that will haunt me until the day I die. Started off with a man screaming in agony, and then suddenly became something you might hear out of a pig being slaughtered.
And then there was silence.
I called 911 again. “911, this call is being recorded.” blah blah blah.
“Yeah, hi. Uh, I uh… I called a few minutes ago about a kid out front of my house… The police car just got here… I think you need to send more. I heard screaming and gunshots… but I don’t hear anything anymore.”
Hearing the words gunshots and screaming were the magic words apparently.
Today I learned my small town has an actual SWAT van, complete with a SWAT team. It and several other police cars roared down my street, also with lights on and sirens blaring despite it being close to midnight now.
They found the police car still sitting there and running, apparently. Just all the lights were fried.
And they found blood, and bullet casings, and… something else.
The entire epidermis of a 10 year old boy, clothes and all. Just the skin. Nothing else.
One of the SWAT members actually puked when he found the leavings.
The officers found some tracks leading into the woods, adult male sized shoes.
Some officers approached my house, but I wasn’t going to open my door for love or money. Abso-fucking-lutely not. They then mentioned having a battering ram and a missing officer, so open the fucking door RIGHT NOW.
They raised an excellent argument. I opened the door. Then promptly fixed the salt line over the threshold they broke when they stepped in. Apparently terror can make people a little irrational. Who knew. I recounted my experience the night before, the footprints, the missing chickens, seeing the kid, making the call. They took intent notes and seemed less inclined to think I was crazy. Based on what they’d found.
While I was talking to the officers, they apparently rolled the K9 officer out of bed, and she showed up with her Shepherd, who was trained to do some tracking work.
The Shepherd however was having none of it, thank you very much. He got a whiff of the missing officer from his vehicle, and then tracked him out of his car, got a whiff of where the skin was left and promptly put his tail down and VERY much wanted to go home where it was safe.
Rooted to the spot as a matter of fact, having ZERO inclination to move towards the woods. I couldn’t blame him. My pup wasn’t interested in leaving the house at all, and wasn’t even barking a hello at the new dog out front of his turf.
After seeing the dog’s reaction as well as their own unsettled feelings, the cops decided to clean up what they could right then and then search in the morning. I was told to call if I saw the officer, but do not approach, just call. I had to refrain from rolling my eyes. Calling worked real well the first time, eh?
I think I might try doing something I haven’t done in 15 years tomorrow once the sun’s up.
Might be a good time to visit church, and make a confession. The police don’t seem to have a fucking clue what’s going on. Maybe the church can help me. Do you folks have any ideas? I’m very much open to even the most ridiculous sorts.