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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/spnsuperfan1 on 2024-11-12 06:35:13+00:00.
After extensive testing and a thorough examination, Detective Davidson has been officially cleared of possession.
That’s right, Demon Dan has successfully vacated his system, leaving Dustin with only slight psychological damage.
(If you’re new, you can find what my therapy sessions have covered: here
He doesn’t remember much about the few hours he was shoved into shotgun or how he ended up getting possessed in the first place. All he’s told me is that he remembers feeling really cold and angry. Overall, it was an unpleasant experience, one he wouldn’t wish upon his own worst enemy.
On a totally unrelated note, the division will be holding a mandatory training seminar on the proper precautions to take to protect against possession in the very near future. Yes, I know it’s a mouthful. It was rather enjoyable to see Lieutenant Dawn struggle to read the memo out as he went around announcing it to everyone.
Salt, iron, holy water, a cross, and The Bible are great basic items to have in your possession at all times. If you’re a little more paranoid, or extreme, there are more permanent precautions. Like a protective tattoo for example. There was a certain tv show that circulated it around a couple years ago, now that I think about it.
Dustin is seriously debating getting one of these tattoo’s. He has a couple on his forearms that I’ve seen on occasion when his sleeves are pushed up. A purple butterfly and a rose I think. They’re small, but I’m sure meaningful. It might also just be an excuse to get another tattoo though, the symbol is pretty cool looking not gonna lie. That, or he’s more irked by that experience than he’s letting on.
As you can see, we take possession and more importantly precaution, very seriously at the Winchester Police Department Supernatural’s Division. Here, it will literally save your life if you come prepared for anything that might jump out and attack you.
I’m back at work, by the way, if that weren’t obvious already. How’s it going?
Well, if you were to ask me which supernatural cases I hate dealing with the most, I’d say anything involving vampires. They’re gruesome creatures, ruthless and cut throat. They’re even rarer than sirens, so when one pops up it’s a whole annoying mess to deal with. Like an actual mess. When a particularly out of control vampire feeds, it turns into a bloodbath.
And lucky me, I just can’t catch a fucking break. As soon as I set foot back in the precinct, Davidson and I were handed the case of a suspected supernatural serial killer.
In layman’s terms, three murders that share common characteristics and have a cool down period between each kill can be classified as serial murders. The first two victim’s, an older woman and a young man, were all drained of blood and their throats ripped out- classic vampire M.O. The most recent murder of a little girl made three. Like I said, I hate vampires.
Dustin and I got to the scene a little after three pm, taking over for the first responding officer. The girl’s body had been found in an alleyway, resting by an overflowing dumpster. The crime scene was cordoned off with that classic yellow tape, a small gathering of curious bystanders on the other side, balancing on the tips of their toes in hopes of seeing something.
The girl’s skin was pale and her little shirt was drenched in blood, throat torn to shreds. Her eyes had glazed over, the life completely drained from them. A permanent expression of terror frozen on her face as her mouth hung open from screaming out her last breath. To throw salt in the wound, a pesky fly crawled in and out of her mouth and on the skin of her face.
She’d been exsanguinated of blood, so lividity wouldn’t be an indicating factor of time of death here. But, based on the fact her jaw still hung open, Rigor Mortis hadn’t set in yet. The stench of sickly sweet iron was too strong for this to have occurred a day or two ago. That meant the body had been fresh, killed only a couple hours ago.
A vamp killing in broad daylight. Bold, but not entirely unheard of.
Lana was the girl’s name. It was written on her purple backpack. There was one of those emergency contact cards in there with the parent’s information as well.
I stood there staring down at the little girl as a pair of blue latex gloves snapped on the skin on my hands. The background noise of the crime scene investigators, other officers, bystanders, cars, even the nature around the city seemed to fade into nothing the longer I concentrated on Lana. It was just me and her in the world, nobody else.
She reminded me a bit of myself at that age, probably because of the long black hair she had tied up into a ponytail. I also had a purple backpack in elementary school.
A tear slid down my cheek as I mourned for the girl. Lana was so young, had her whole life ahead of her, only for it to be ripped away in an instant. Her promising life in exchange to keep a greedy monster’s appetite at bay. Despicable. She was just a kid walking home from school.
A hot flash of rage swept through my body.
Then a facial muscle in her cheek twitched. Startled, I jumped back, screaming, “No!”
After my outburst, the activity around the busy crime scene ceased, everyone’s eyes pointed at me. My partner dropped what he was doing and made his way over to me.
I took multiple steps back, my eyes trained on the unmoving corpse. Uncontrollable tears gushed down my face. Panic gripped my heart, like a vice. Quick shallow breaths left my lungs. My head was spinning. It felt like I was going to die.
Thanks to all my therapy sessions, I recognized it as a panic attack.
Needing to remove myself from the situation, I ducked under the crime scene tape and booked it back to the liftback- Dustin en tow.
I slammed the passenger door shut and locked the car, rolling down my window to let the fresh air in. A slight breeze whooshed in, settling my nerves a little.
Dustin leaned against the vehicle with one arm resting on top of the roof and the other on his hip. He looked down at me with concern. “You good?”
“I will be,” I said with a shuddering breath. My wrists flailed around erratically as I attempted to shake the shock out of my system. I wiped drying tears off my face with my sweaty palms after taking the gloves off.
Dustin pat the top of the liftback twice. “Okay,” he said nonchalantly, walking back over to the crime scene.
Detective Davison was a dear and conducted interviews while I calmed down in his car. Then, together we went around to the surrounding local businesses and requested they hand over any CCTV footage they might have.
While most of the owners were happy to oblige, a couple of them told us to fuck off and come back with a warrant. God, I love small town Michigan. The grit on some of these folks reminded me of the Windy City.
With witness statements, interview notes, and a good bit of security tapes to sift through, Dustin and I headed back to the comfort of the precinct.
The first couple minutes of the car ride were silent. “What was that back there?” Davidson asked, breaking it.
I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. “Would you believe it if I said it was first day back jitters?”
He shot me a quick, stern, glance. “Lucky…”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” my whole body shifted away from him and his gaze as my neck turned to face out the window. I crossed my arms and huffed.
Dustin sighed before he sincerely said, “If you ever do want to talk about it, I’m here.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what you really went through while you were possessed?” I mumbled into my chest. After peeking over my shoulder, I found him looking stone faced with his lips pressed together in a hard line.
An awkward silence filled the air between us. The tension grew so thick, you could cut it with a knife.
Then Clair de Lune, Dustin’s ringtone, started playing. He fumbled for a second, reaching around for his phone while keeping his eyes on the road. I rolled my eyes before leaning over and grabbing it out of the center console for him.
“Hey,” Dustin said as he answered the phone, putting it on speaker, “are you thinking what we’re thinking?”
“A vampire? Possibly, yes,” Jane’s semi-muffled voice rang out. Just like his car, Dustin’s phone was old. His model was a good two, three, maybe ten updates behind modern technological standards. “But there’s also the possibility it could be-“
“No,” Dustin cut her off. I shook my head in agreement. Nobody wanted the alternative to be the case. Especially me.
A slightly offended pause came from the phone. “I was just saying it’s a possibility. But, yeah, the supernatural we’re most likely dealing with here is a vampire.”
“Great,” I said unenthusiastically, earning yet another glare from my partner.
“Well we’re on our way back to the precinct now,” he informed. “The three of us can sit down and create a profile when we get there.”
“Alrighty then,” Jane said chipperly, “see you soon.” She then promptly hung up the phone.
The rest of the car ride was drowned out with the stale sound of FM radio.
Back at the precinct Jane, Dustin, and I met up and sat down in one of the conference rooms to…
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