The Body Bag

I recently got on the police force in my town. Making people feel safe is what inspires me to be a police officer. However instead of doing important things like stopping crooks from robbing a bank or preventing murder. I'm stuck at the department filing papers. On a day of 12/9/13, I was doing just that when the chief came in. He asked me to back-up all the data of all the computers in storage for their internet database. Hey, at least it's not paperwork. He handed me a key and I headed downstairs.

Christ.

There must have been over 50 computers down there. 50 computers that I have to set up, turn on, and copy documents. But again, better than paperwork, so I set to work. After about 10 I started to feel bored. Welp, what did I do? I started to read the documents of course. 2 hours passed and I thought I got all the computers. That is, until I saw one hidden in the corner. It had more dust than all the others. I didn't want to risk getting in trouble by skipping a computer, so I set it up and prepared it for copying. Huh, it only had one document.

The name of the file was just "report.doc"

Now out of all the reports I read that day. This was absolutely the strangest.

The following is that document. 

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<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">End of Case Report Logs, Detective Dave Actosh <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">December 7th, 2007 - 7:45pm

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">It was the end of my shift the team have been talking to each other about a new case, a murder - face smashed in with a sledgehammer seven times - poor guy. Funny, I don't remember anyone bringing a body in today. Well, I felt the urge to take a look at the body, so I walked down to the <span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">autopsy room <span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">. I'm sure my wife Carrie could wait an hour or two. I should tell her though. I rummaged through my pockets until I took out my 90's style flip-phone, and speed dialed her. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">December 7th, 2007 - 7:51pm

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The time it took for the call to go through was about 3 minutes, very odd. But when it did finally go through I was greeted by the voice of someone who just saw a ghost. "W-who is this, how did you get Dave's phone!?" The reception from her was almost inaudible. I replied, "Carrie, what are you talking about, this IS Dave. Are you alright?" "I... I can't hear you... I don't know know how you got Dave's phone, the police told me," silence. "Told you, told you what!?" the call dropped. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">December 7th, 2007 - 8:12pm

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I've been staring at my phone and trying to call my wife back for around 17 minutes, when I heard loud rustling in front of me. I looked up from my phone. The bodybag was shaking violently. How could have he been alive!? I quickly but carefully walked over to the black, livly, of what might be inside and I zipped open to the neck point.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Nothing was moving. My mind couldn't have been playing tricks on me. No. That never happened. It must have been stress taking my mind over. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">December 7th, 2007 - 8:13pm

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The face. The face of the corpse was revolting. There seems to be no more facial features, just a hole. It looks like the murderer smashed the head in like a watermelon. After, he/she more than likely scooped out the contents leaving just the back of the skull. How horrible. I'm sick of looking at this. I think I'll just let the forensics handle this one tomorrow. I need to go home and try to see why Carrie was so scared. I looked at my watch. The time must be wrong. I was looking at this guy for over 3 hours. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">December 7th, 2007 - 11:56pm

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I began to walk to the door when I heard some glass break in the chem lab. Sighing, I took out my pistol from my coat, and quietly maneuvered my way to the east side of the room where the chem lab door was. I proceeded to adjust myself to the corner of the opening. Remaining quiet, I softly opened the door and jump out swiftly from the corner. To my surprise, there was someone there, it was a man, and he has a coat just like mine. "Put your hands behind your head and slowly face me," I firmly said. The man's hands stretched up high, and then he bend down his elbows placing his hands on his neck. My stomach churned. The man slowly turned to face me. Everything started to get disorienting and hasey. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">December 7th, 2007 - 11:57pm

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">It was, the guy. The guy from the bodybag, how did he get out, how is he alive? That badge... Dave... Actosh? I panicked, and pulled the trigger at the undead impersonator. He was still standing. He put his hands down and slowly began to walk towards me. The blood from his face dripped to the ground. As he got closer, the sound from the dripping blood felt more and more it felt like a sledgehammer to my head. I lost balance and leaned my back against the nearest stable thing. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">December 7th, 2007 - 11:58pm

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">The beast with my body drew closer, the drips became more frequent. I didn't know what was going to happen to me. Just as he got to me, he stopped. The back of the hole where his face was throbbing like a heartbeat. The blood stopped dripping from him. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">December 7th, 2007 - 11:59am

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I felt like this long stare would never end when he evaporated into a glowing mist. The mist sailed up and over my head. I felt relieved until I realized I wasn't leaning on a wall. I was in front of the doorway. I got tense again. I felt what I was putting my body weight on. Cloth, dusty cloth. Like old clothing? But there wasn't flesh under it. No, it felt hard and rough. It was bone. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">December 8th, 2007 - 12:00am

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I didn't want to look up. I refused to look up and see who might be there. I guess I didn't have to.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Creaking started to fill my ears as an ancient bony hand moved to me. It was holding a mirror. The mirror was held to my face. I couldn't believe what I saw. My head. My head had big gaping hole where the face was. I felt sick. But I couldn't vomit. I didn't want to look anymore. I looked up and away from the mirror. A hooded man in a robe. I looked to his other hand (wasn't about to look back at the mirror.) He was holding a scythe. "It is time," he said in a loud, booming, <span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">omnipotent <span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;"> voice.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">Goodbye.

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin:0pt-1pt0pt24px;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">I love you Carrie. <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:'CourierNew';color:#000000;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">492077696c6c20736d696c6520646f776e20617420796f752066726f6d207468652068656176656e732c206576656e20776974686f7574206d7920666163652e 69206c6f766520796f75 69206c6f766520796f75 69206c6f766520796f75 69206c6f766520796f75 69206c6f766520796f75 69206c6f766520796f75 69206c6f766520796f75 69206c6f766520796f75

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">- <p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;">

<p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.15;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt;margin-left:-1pt;margin-right:-1pt;"><span style="font-size:15px;font-family:Arial;color:#ffffff;font-weight:normal;font-variant:normal;text-decoration:none;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap;">That was the end of the entries. Now as strange as this was already. The oddest thing was when I looked at the meta data. It said this was last edited 12/8/14. Even though these computers hasn't been touched since 2009. Well after finding that; paperwork doesn't sound so bad anymore.