Murder at Willow Cemetery - Part 1
Posted by Marchio Naberius | Posted in horror story | Posted on 4:17 AM
I never knew what happened that night in the Willow Cemetery for the proofs I identified cannot be accepted, not in this world. I had to classify the case and move on without any reasonable explanation. These moments are carved in my mind like the epitaph of a fresh tomb, I remember everything and still wake up at night, wondering what happened...
It was a cold night of November '84 and I had been asked to perform an investigation at the graveyard, there was nothing more mentioned by the office. They asked me to go there and I was supposed to receive the information I needed from the associates on the crime scene. I got out of my car in front of the cemetery but noticed that there was no light coming through the fences, nor anyone waiting for me at the entrance. I lit up a cigarette and proceeded into the cemetery, looking for the crime scene.
I wandered around a while and finally noticed the police tapes. I walked closer to my objective, blinded by the obscurity of the night and stepped on something, not bothering to look, I got deeper in the graveyard, closing in. I arrived at an empty tomb, and no one was around. The open tomb was Margaret Erskine's, which was not very relevant at the time. I remember the weird smell, I had never experienced something like that before. I looked on the ground and saw a flashlight, I picked it up, it was sticky. I turned it on and... I saw the horror. The light was unveiling the secret held by the darkness : blood. There was blood everywhere. The grass was covered in blood, and there was sign of struggle. I could see that someone tried to hold on to the tomb by the nails stuck in the old masonry. I walked around, trying not to vomit, and looked for someone to explain what happened.
After I cleared my mind, lit a cigarette, took a sip of ol'Jack and called backups (not in that order) I decided to go back to the crime scene to try to find an explanation to all this. I went close to Miss Erskine's tomb with a few officers and looked around for clues. I only found one thing on that crime scene. The thing I had tripped my foot on. It was the left hand of a women, decayed for many years, and it was holding a jewel, some kind of old and rusty metal ring. Later analysis showed that it was the hand of Miss Erskine and the blood found around the grave was the blood of everyone sent for the original call. The jewel was nothing according to our researchers, but I pushed the investigation further, since it was our only "evidence".
I had to read the official files to know what was the real crime scene that night, for all of my eight colleagues had been... dead and missing. I was shocked when I realized that the prime objective of this investigation was a murder scene for we found no trace of any evidence regarding a body that was not one of the policemen crew... The files stated nothing else, there had been a mysterious phone call about a fresh body found in the graveyard, and nothing else. Since there was a crime scene tape there must have been a body to isolate, but why was there no trace of all that? Where was the remaining of Miss Erskine's body?
I searched in libraries and on the internet about some historical reference to this kind of problem but found nothing scientific, nor logical. By the mean time there was the funerals of my colleagues who depressed me to a point that my almost nonexistent social life had gone missing as well. I wandered in my apartment, living again and again that horrible night, trying to find a meaning to all this. My life was falling apart. Since I didn't show up for a while the office set me on "forced rest". I was alone and had nothing else to do than thinking about that crime, and it was corroding my very soul.
On a night of lucidity I stared at myself in the mirror. My brown eyes were looking tired and my face was covered in wrinkles. I scratched my beard and thought of an old man who used to know everything. His name was Eddie, he was an antiquarian. I knew him because I helped him maintain his house when I was younger. He was living in Illinois so I had to get on the road right away if I wanted to be there by the morning. I took a few wake up pills, a sip of Jack and lit a cigarette, then jumped into my car.
To be continued...
It was a cold night of November '84 and I had been asked to perform an investigation at the graveyard, there was nothing more mentioned by the office. They asked me to go there and I was supposed to receive the information I needed from the associates on the crime scene. I got out of my car in front of the cemetery but noticed that there was no light coming through the fences, nor anyone waiting for me at the entrance. I lit up a cigarette and proceeded into the cemetery, looking for the crime scene.
I wandered around a while and finally noticed the police tapes. I walked closer to my objective, blinded by the obscurity of the night and stepped on something, not bothering to look, I got deeper in the graveyard, closing in. I arrived at an empty tomb, and no one was around. The open tomb was Margaret Erskine's, which was not very relevant at the time. I remember the weird smell, I had never experienced something like that before. I looked on the ground and saw a flashlight, I picked it up, it was sticky. I turned it on and... I saw the horror. The light was unveiling the secret held by the darkness : blood. There was blood everywhere. The grass was covered in blood, and there was sign of struggle. I could see that someone tried to hold on to the tomb by the nails stuck in the old masonry. I walked around, trying not to vomit, and looked for someone to explain what happened.
After I cleared my mind, lit a cigarette, took a sip of ol'Jack and called backups (not in that order) I decided to go back to the crime scene to try to find an explanation to all this. I went close to Miss Erskine's tomb with a few officers and looked around for clues. I only found one thing on that crime scene. The thing I had tripped my foot on. It was the left hand of a women, decayed for many years, and it was holding a jewel, some kind of old and rusty metal ring. Later analysis showed that it was the hand of Miss Erskine and the blood found around the grave was the blood of everyone sent for the original call. The jewel was nothing according to our researchers, but I pushed the investigation further, since it was our only "evidence".
I had to read the official files to know what was the real crime scene that night, for all of my eight colleagues had been... dead and missing. I was shocked when I realized that the prime objective of this investigation was a murder scene for we found no trace of any evidence regarding a body that was not one of the policemen crew... The files stated nothing else, there had been a mysterious phone call about a fresh body found in the graveyard, and nothing else. Since there was a crime scene tape there must have been a body to isolate, but why was there no trace of all that? Where was the remaining of Miss Erskine's body?
I searched in libraries and on the internet about some historical reference to this kind of problem but found nothing scientific, nor logical. By the mean time there was the funerals of my colleagues who depressed me to a point that my almost nonexistent social life had gone missing as well. I wandered in my apartment, living again and again that horrible night, trying to find a meaning to all this. My life was falling apart. Since I didn't show up for a while the office set me on "forced rest". I was alone and had nothing else to do than thinking about that crime, and it was corroding my very soul.
On a night of lucidity I stared at myself in the mirror. My brown eyes were looking tired and my face was covered in wrinkles. I scratched my beard and thought of an old man who used to know everything. His name was Eddie, he was an antiquarian. I knew him because I helped him maintain his house when I was younger. He was living in Illinois so I had to get on the road right away if I wanted to be there by the morning. I took a few wake up pills, a sip of Jack and lit a cigarette, then jumped into my car.
To be continued...
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