Preface (Don't worry I'm not leaving my other story to rot, I just have a giant well thought out draft/outline in the works for it. So enjoy this one while you wait :>)
Occult Containment Profile
Non Resident Entity #2012012912 It that reaches beneath
Field Agent Cover {Entity 25% likely to breach gateway, 75% likely to result in partial breach. Mirrors Don't Eat People.}
Mark Up [Entity when not observed hides beneath surfaces immediately adjacent to humans. Such as beds, hammocks, seats, cars, planes, the ground, coffins, floors, wall cavities, etc. Forensic profiling can be carried out on entities victims, agents should focus on collecting salvia and blood samples. Dental records, Optometry records, And general health information recovered from the national health system are unlikely to be useful as teeth, skin, eyes, bones, etc. are missing from terminants.]
The gas mask is tight against my face as my boots thud thud thud across the concrete stained with blood.
Like tiny little foot prints, splatters of blood lead off from the sidewalk and to the woods. The trees yawn over the skyline, as if curled fingers beckoning one to their death. There is no animal noise, not even the wind. No this is a rather placid stagnant night. Almost in contradiction to the butchery that occurred so recently. It instills a type of curiosity in me, to go bumbling off into the darkness awaiting those trees and dirt.
But that's not my job, the tracking specialists are much better at well... Tracking. No my attention is focused on the house adjacent to said forestry. The door is slick with bright red blood, a sure sign of arterial spray. My hand grips the knob with a squawk of rubber.
I'd been debriefed on the location. The house was a 2 story 300k$ purchase by one mister miles Iong. He'd been a spinal surgeon. His coworkers had a variety of stories about him ending in the effect of his kindness and generosity. Often he would wonder the streets offering the homeless food.
In fact contrary to his salary he had very few personal belongings to his name besides his house his car and his dog.
It's almost a shame this is what ended up happening to him. Reduced to a spray of viscera on his own walls.
Speaking of which I kneel down, my gray hazmat suit leading into the soft white carpet stained with blood. Like someone sneezed red paint into it.
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I detach a small plastic package from my belt, the plastic seal making a pleasant Crick as I open it's sterile contents for the first time. Unrolling a small translucent baggy with a cotton dab and a long almost Q tip like swab.
I quickly take the sample. Not having done so with the blood outside because it was likely to have been contaminated.
I drop the the Q tip like swab in a professional looking baggy labeled "Biohazard crime sample" and the stained dab into a less professional zip lock bag labeled "miles long" with a few of his case file photos. By all means a healthy and happy looking young man.
Something of a morbid collectable. But someone has to remember the poor kid, and not as a stain on a wall.
With that done I focus on the patterns of blood. To some the crime scene would be a confusing mess. But to me it all makes sense.
The brightest blood originates from the door way. Bright blood is oxygenated, meaning it would have come from a deep cut.
Keeping that in mind I take a tour of the house.
The living room with the front door leads to a hallway. To my right is a kitchen, to my left is a stair case. And to my front is a small closet. Fairly unassuming with little contents. Although the bottom of the door is shredded and the blanket and pillow hint at a resident.
The upstairs consist of one bathroom immediately next to the stair case. Then to the right of the banister is a empty room. And then at the end of the hall another similarly empty bedroom. Obviously ready for a occupant to sleep in. But the carpeted floor is adorned by no furniture nor any accessory.
The entire upstairs floor is absent of blood. Meanwhile the first floor is drenched in it.
Even more interesting the entire house has only three mirrors. One obviously missing from the bathroom, the second and third both stacked on each other in the room next to the banister folded sheet draped across them like a corpse in a coffin.
I take out my work phone, a literal black box. The case is a sleek metallic finish, designed for easy cleaning.
[Notes]
>Miles long (Victim) henceforth ref to subject C#210912.
>Blood splattering pattern suggests spray from lower body.
>Blood samples collected from inside of home.
>Lack of mirrors in house suggests C#210912 heard partial manifestation of entity and allowed it to continue until full manifestation.
>Bathroom door is intact, suggests that entity cannot be contained via conventual means
>Usual cadaver is lacking, suggests recovery of C#210912's body.
>Usual cadaver is lacking, suggests nearby location of hostile entity.
Field Agent Recommendation
Deploy specialist containment team [MolesWithoutEyes] allow forensic field agent to accompany. Intact cadaver could provide possible containment policy.
As I finish writing my report I leave the house. Making sure to walk slowly and with caution to avoid slipping on the gross blood covering every inch of the walls and floors.
The thuds of my boots on the concrete are the same as when I'd walked in. But eventually I make my way to the large seemingly civilian semi truck. It carrying a trailer behind it. I firmly grab the handle to the trailers door. Swinging it open and taking a step inside as the fluorescent lights idly illuminate the sleek gore on my hazmat suit.
The grated floor begins steaming as the shower heads embedded into the trailers ceiling begin to rain down upon me.
I stretch out my hands allowing the slick blood to be washed from my suit.
Ready for what's to come next.