If the government doesn’t know about it, they should. After what happened to me. After what could happen to someone else.
“We stood there in a lake of blood watching a man pull his guts from himself.”
Dried blood was crusted over the letters. I had to pick it off with the tip of my thumb, because it wouldn’t rub away with a cloth.
“Out of the pitch black we heard something SCREAMING.”
I heard something again; a deep and guttural moan. I stopped and so did my heart. My face felt frozen as if the blood just stopped moving.
He taped up her mouth and nose to cut off her breathing until she suffocated and died. She was only nine years old.
“I tore the bag open and out flopped a fully developed, completely green, dead baby, with a very smushed head. You can imagine my shock; opening the bag, expecting to find shoes, clothes, maybe a wallet, and instead a tiny human plopping out.”
The woman’s whimpering rose to muffled screaming as a gloved hand reached out with the rusted knife. Pushed back her pretty hair, damp at the roots with blood. That hand dug into her ear, slicing off a chunk, taking a golden hoop and an industrial bar along with it. She was still squealing as the hand picked up the skin and flipped it back and forth in front of the phone camera, like he was a magician showing off a card.
I held her closer as my eyes bore into the heavy metal door keeping us secluded from the rest of the house. A wave washed over me. I was going to be sick.