As you may have heard, a young girl went missing in the splendid suburban area of Carrington, on the outskirts of Nottinghamshire. Local news stations released images of the girl on their broadcasts to give the public the ability to identify the girl if they see her. Unfortunately, there were no key features that would make the girl easy to identify. I was the detective heading up the investigation, and what I found shook me internally more than in any other investigation I had led prior.

I was issued a warrant to search the establishment in which the girl went missing. The two residents in the establishment were the girl herself and her single mother, Fiona- who, at the time, was a probable suspect for her daughter's disappearance. Fiona's missing daughter was training to become a surgeon, and had what she declared an "indescribable passion" for it. The small family of two prospered in their close relationship; they even shared a bedroom due to finance problems which in turn only brought them closer together.

Upon entering the house, I greeted Fiona and took advantage of her jittery and feeble state and easily persuaded her to let me take a look around the compact house. I saw nothing strange or out of place, so I proceeded to go to Fiona and her daughter's bedroom. As I walked towards the plain white door, I was stopped in my tracks by Fiona. She insisted that I not enter the bedroom, as it was very special to her and her daughter, and she didn't want some dim-witted, arrogant detective (as she described me) messing up the one thing she had tried so hard to preserve. The sudden outburst of rage was unexpected, but not unheard of from a woman in that kind of mental state.

I persevered, insisting in the opposite direction until she gave in and allowed me to investigate the room. What I then saw will haunt my memories for the rest of my days. I saw the girl's trainee surgical kit resting on the bedside table open, exposing the full kit except the scalpel. As I looked to my right, I could see a dark red blood trail leading straight under their bed. Immediately my stomach churned and I stuck my hand under the bed to steady myself, only to feel the decomposing flesh of what only could be a human.

I vomited on the already blood-stained patch of carpet next to me, hardly able to believe my eyes. I reluctantly dragged out the body only to crouch there in absolute horror, staring blankly at the faceless body of Fiona, accompanied by the missing girl's scalpel. I sprinted out of the bedroom, only to find Fiona's face lying in the hallway where I was first greeted. We never did find that missing girl.

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