|| Harvest Of Flesh || Eyeless jack x male!Oc || Creepypasta

III. Lonely Days

Another unusual murder.
Sirens sounded along the street, waking up the residents of the houses. Everyone who woke up was intrigued. But this was not the first time it had happened, no one was surprised.

The police were sleepy, this was obvious from their yawns and the dark bags under their eyes. But the sight of the rotting body quickly woke them up.

The neighbours, always poking their noses into things that were none of their business, were apparently even more interested than usual. Word spread quickly that a body had been found nearby, and curious onlookers began to gather in a crowd to catch a glimpse of whatever that was happening. The police tried to shoo people away, but many still persisted and tried to get a closer look at the crime scene.

Two men, who looked to be 25-30 years old, got out of the car along with a group of other people- criminologists. They were dressed in medical costumes, as uncomfortable as it looked.
"I couldn't care less. Let me sleep."

"Hey, is this a circus for you or something? Go home, there's nothing to see here except a rotten corpse. If you really want to see that, come to the morgue, I'll be waiting. Though I must warn- I don't accept the living."

"Lewis, don't be rude. They're just wondering what's going on here. There's so much commotion going on."

They entered the building. From the expression on their faces one could guess that this was not the first time they had done this. Though, Lewis's expression was much calmer than Cody's. This was most likely because he has been in this field much longer.

Lewis stepped over the yellow tape outside the apartment, followed by Cody.

Upon entering the apartment, one could smell the terrible smell of death.
The dead body was decomposing, releasing a foul and dull aroma into the air. The smell was so strong that even the walls and furniture seemed to absorb it, causing nausea to anyone who came close to the room. The smell of decomposition, penetrating to the smallest cavities of the nose, was haunting. That was why the neighbours complained to the police.

Lewis felt uneasy, the room was in terrible disarray, yet he did not think that it had anything to do with the attack. There were books scattered across his desk, some open, some closed, but they all looked like they had been read many times. One could guess that the apartment belonged to a student. The trash can was overflowing, like a landfill, full of paper and other rubbish. The window was open, letting the first rays of sun into the room, allowing the mess of the room to be seen even better.
Lewis didn't know whether it was to ventilate the room, or whether the intruder got into the room through it. The floors were dirty, and the wallpaper was peeling due to unsuccessful gluing. Water dripped from the tap onto a mountain of unwashed dishes. This place looked more like an abandoned apartment than a living place.

He looked around the room, wrinkling his nose. Lewis carefully stepped over the dirty clothes on the floor and leaned over Michael, examining every detail.

On the bed lay a body covered in flies and rotten remains of skin, rotting after a week in loneliness.
It was completely lifeless and devoid of all the colours it once had. Flies swarmed around it, feeding on its rotting remains. Blood formed a stain around the body, soaking the bed in a scarlet liquid. The body was now a pale, decaying shell of its former self - an image of the horror it had endured in its final moments.

"The stitching isn't the best." Lewis noticed, lifting the guy's T-shirt.

"What is known about the case so far? " Cody asked a policeman standing beside him.

"So far, they have filed a report, measured the position of the body and identified it, Detective Hilton."

While the two were talking, Lewis pulled out an ultraviolet flashlight from his suitcase, illuminating the room with it. Although the situation was obvious, it wouldn't hurt to check if there were any traces of blood anywhere else.
Having illuminated almost every corner of the room, Lewis came to the conclusion that there was nothing new, just the same stain on the bed.

"As always. Nothing interesting," Lewis thought. Such cases are always the same; They find out the cause and time of death, and then the investigation goes nowhere further. No fingerprints, no DNA. Dead end. He had no hope for this case.

After putting the flashlight back, Lewis noticed a photograph on the nightstand next to the bed. It was a photograph of Michael and his family many years ago, long before the murders started. At first, he didn't recognize Michael, now he no longer looked like himself at all. This photograph of his innocent, carefree past stood in stark contrast to the horrific image of his rotting corpse in Lewis's mind. Michael was so full of life, so passionate about his academic pursuits. His future looked bright and promising. And yet, this bright future was simply taken away from him.

He looked at the blonde woman in the photo and wondered how she would react upon hearing the terrible news. Michael, probably like half of the youth, stayed in this city for the sake of study, Lewis guessed. But was Michael the only victim? Obviously not.