I was a cop for 20 years. This case is why I burned my badge.

I went through something recently, brother… I thought I’d go grey. I swear. After working in the police for so long — you know it yourself — I’ve never encountered anything like this.”

My friend, who recently resigned from the force, spoke quietly after tossing back a shot of bourbon. We were sitting in my kitchen. We hadn’t seen each other in a long time; he was always at work. The man saw his own family only while they were sleeping, let alone me. But finally, we met — and not because we missed each other, but because he was in a state of shock.

Something happened at his work, and as I understood, he wanted to talk to me about it. A huge man who gave most of his life to police work, who survived things not everyone is lucky to survive, sat in my kitchen, pouring bourbon into the glasses with a trembling hand. We drank again, and wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he began his story.

“So, about a week ago, a call came into our department. A woman is calling, and I happened to be standing near the duty room, grabbing some papers. Out of the corner of my ear, I hear the woman is in a real hysteria on the phone. Crying, stuttering. In a word, she says her son is missing. He was playing in her yard, it was already evening. She calls him from the porch — no answer. Then she went out to look — nothing. Like he vanished through the ground. She called all his friends, their parents — no one saw or heard anything.

She’s crying to the duty officer, explaining the situation. Anyway, we drove there. Even though our town isn’t particularly large, in all the time I’ve lived here, I’ve never been to that area.”

“Where is it?” I asked.

“It’s by the railroad tracks near the Bio-Factory. By the way, I still don’t know the address. It’s the very edge. There are apartment buildings, and further on are rails, ties, and a forest behind them. A gloomy place.”

“Well, what happened next?”

“So, we arrive there, and the whole yard has gathered by the house. Men are standing with flashlights. There were maybe thirty people, if not more. We went through the entrances, questioned people… but as expected, no one saw or heard anything.

Well, what can you do? A person is missing. We had to call the searchers. Those same men joined them, and we started combing the area. We looked everywhere — in trash bins, in manholes, in basements. But it was all unsuccessful. Maybe after an hour of useless searching, the dogs finally picked up a scent and led everyone across the tracks into the forest. I didn’t go there, of course; I stayed in the yard, dealing with protocols and sitting in the car.”

“The woman was losing her mind, and I don’t know how much she cried then. No matter how I tried to calm her down, it was all in vain. I ran to the pharmacy, bought her some sedatives. You could understand her, of course, but the constant stupid questions, the crying, and the hysterics were already very much in the way of focusing. I had to rewrite everything several times.”

“And in the forest, did they find him or not?”

“Listen, I’m telling you,” Elias grunted dissatisfiedly, pouring himself another shot of bourbon. “They were looking for the boy all night. The dogs lost the trail several times, and eventually, towards morning, they came out to a small swamp in the middle of that forest. Stinking, just a nightmare. And they found him. Dead.”

“Jesus,” I whispered.

“That’s not the worst of it, believe me.” He downed the shot and continued. “They pulled the body out, and the poor guy was like he’d been cut in half. You know, I’ve seen a lot at work, but this was the first time. His legs were literally hanging on by a thread. His insides were on the outside, floating there in the water. Instead of them, under the ribs, was straw. His arms and legs were twisted in some wrong position and carelessly fastened with wire. A few of the men who were helping search even threw up or fainted. We had to bring them back to their senses.

They called me and reported everything. With a heavy heart, I went to the mother of the deceased. In short, I told her everything as it was. It was insanely hard; I can’t even tell you. But you know, I had a feeling then that she was ready for this result of the search. There were no hysterics, no tearing of hair. She just gripped my jacket tightly and cried quietly.

Further, everything was as usual. We opened a case and started searching for whoever did this horror. The next day, when I came to her house to clarify a few details on the case, I found her lying in the bathroom with her wrists slit. Interestingly, the front door was not locked. That’s how I got into her apartment. Judging by the interior, she wasn’t wealthy at all, and with the loss of her son, the woman had lost the meaning of her life.

The case was opened, the criminal was sought, but there wasn’t a single lead. So it lay on the shelf until better times. But we remembered it when the story repeated itself. In the middle of the night, they called the department. A child was missing. He was playing on the street and vanished as if through the ground. And again, in roughly the same area as the last one. I’m going there again, seeing the same parents and the same men who searched before.

Everyone went to the same swamp, but this time no one was found. Not at night, not the next day, not a week later, during which, by the way, another child disappeared. A girl, 12 years old. She went to the store and didn’t come home. And if the previous cases were in the evening or night, this time the girl disappeared in broad daylight. Although, you know, it’s the kind of area where whether it’s day or night, you won’t see a single living soul on the street anyway. So I wasn’t particularly surprised by the fact of a person missing in broad daylight.

They searched for them everywhere, of course. They combed that forest up and down. Nothing was found. Not a single damn lead, you understand? And the dogs, if they worked somehow the first time, in the following ones they acted like they were brain-dead. You shove a thing under their nose, and they whine and rub against your legs. Good thing there were no problems with the parents like the first time; on the other hand, they didn’t know about the death of their children. They waited and hoped.

Rumors spread through the town instantly. People were naturally afraid to go outside after sunset. Adults were afraid — what can you say about children. And not only after sunset. During the day, if they went to school or on other business, it was only accompanied by adults. Something had to be done about this, and the bosses were pressing. After all, three people were gone, one already on the other side. Honestly, at that moment, I thought all three were already there. But as they say, hope dies last.”

Elias lit a cigarette and continued.

“The case stalled. What didn’t we do? Where didn’t we look? Who didn’t we question? And time after time, we hit a dead end. Until one moment. Another disappearance of a girl, a bit further from that ill-fated street. That’s where the first lead appeared. Two weeks later, when the guys and I arrived at the scene, we learned one interesting thing that confirmed my guesses about a maniac operating in these parts.

“Did you lose consciousness?” I asked.

We questioned everyone who was at least somewhat familiar with the last victim. Among those questioned was that girl’s friend. As it turned out, she was the last one to see her before the disappearance. And she tells us that her friend had been messaging some ‘friend’ for a few days who promised her a new phone. The girls were about 10 years old, maybe a bit older. Well, they understood what messaging, social networks, phones, and such were. But there isn’t much common sense at that age, you understand it yourself. So she went to meet the ‘friend’ from the messages to get a new phone. The friend didn’t know where the meeting was supposed to take place, but it was at least something.

The next day, we registered about ten accounts on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram — everywhere. And we tried to lure the ‘friends’ who give away new phones. Two days later, a suspicious type messaged one of the ops. He writes, ‘Hi, let’s get to know each other.’ The op says, ‘Hi, let’s.’ He intentionally wrote with mistakes so as not to cause suspicion. The contact didn’t give his name, but only talked about how much he loves computer games and how he had an extra gaming console lying around that he didn’t need at all. And being so kind, he was thinking about who he could give it to.

Brooks, my partner, got into the role. After half an hour of messaging, a meeting was set near the railroad crossing, by the Bio-Factory. In the same area, just a bit closer to the forest. Brooks didn’t ask awkward questions and agreed to everything like a truly naive child. It was getting towards evening, and Brooks and two other ops stayed at the station to finish the messaging. We’re sitting there, drinking coffee, when suddenly a message comes: ‘I’m taking the console and heading to the spot,’ and a happy emoji after it. Right after that, a photo of a beautiful box. I don’t know what model it was; I don’t understand that stuff. Brooks replied that he was ‘asking mom’ since the time was late. While he was ‘asking mom,’ we packed up, got in the car, and drove.

At that time, it seemed like everything would be easy. We’d arrive, quickly tackle the scum, and take him to the station. And there we’d deal with who he is and what kind of console he has. Yeah, naive,” my companion grunted and lit another cigarette.

Suddenly he went silent. At that moment, I noticed how goosebumps ran across his trembling hands.

“We drove there. We took pistols and even put on body armor, just in case. We parked the car a distance away and went on foot. There are rails there, and next to them, some railroad building. I look — there the bastard stands, holding a box and looking around. We got as close as possible. I jump out and shout: ‘Police! Hands behind your head! On the ground!’ And he bolted into the forest. So fast he was gone instantly. But the white box gave him away in the dark. Why he didn’t throw it away, I still don’t understand.

We went after him, of course. Through the thicket and bushes. I realized he was already pulling away, and judging by his movements, he knew the area well. I pulled my service weapon and opened fire. My partners did the same. I don’t know if he was cursed or if we were just lousy shots, but the bullets flew past him. Four people shooting at once, and that scum just keeps running. We’re running, and then I hear a splash of water and a cry. I look back — Brooks fell into the swamp. The same one where we fished out the first body. I shouted for one man to stay and help him get out. The other one ran with me. We couldn’t let this bastard get away.

The two of us are running, shining flashlights, trying not to lose sight of him. Suddenly, the runner stops. In the light of my flashlight, I see three men coming out toward us. One was big as an ox, and two were scrawny, overgrown, and dirty like they just crawled out of a coal mine. And the one who was running from us joined them. They’re standing there: one has a torch, another a kerosene lamp, and every single one is armed. One with a sickle, one with an axe, one with a knife. They stood about ten meters from us. And then, you understand, I got terrified like a little girl. I don’t know what happened to me. I didn’t have time to react and aim the pistol before I heard my partner’s shot, and then the howl of one of the ‘locals.’

After the shot, they attacked the poor guy like animals and knocked the pistol out of his hands. I immediately went to help, just aimed, when suddenly there was a terrible pain in the back of my head. A broken branch flies in front of me, and I fall to the ground.”

“No, I didn’t black out. The pain was just such that I couldn’t do anything. I just lay there twitching and watched them run to me and start tying my hands and feet. I couldn’t make out their words. I tried to kick and resist, but a second blow to the head calmed me down. After the second one, I lost consciousness.”

“What a nightmare,” I muttered.

“Look,” Elias turned and showed me the stitches on his head. Besides that, I saw many strange wounds on his nape, near his ears, and on his neck. “That was also them.” Elias nodded silently and continued.

“I wake up from them pouring cold water on me. A thin stream, as if mocking. I open my eyes — everything is double, my head is splitting in half. I try to move my hands and feet — nothing. They tied me so tight they were completely numb. Slowly the focus returns. The first thing I saw were those two scrawny freaks. They’re sitting at a table playing cards. Judging by the smell, I was in some abandoned place or catacombs. It smelled of dampness, mold, and unwashed human bodies. My partner was lying tied next to me, also coming to his senses.

Seeing we woke up, one of them stood up and came over. ‘They’re awake,’ he grinned with rotten teeth. I started talking nonsense that we were from the police and they should free us immediately. In response, the freaks just laughed and kicked me in the stomach. I still have the bruise.

I don’t know who they were. Some insane people? Some cult? But one thing was worse. What I saw next put me in shock. Lying on the damp ground, I understood what awaited us. They took my partner first. They were angry at him for wounding their friend back in the forest. They took me after him, apparently so I could watch. They sat him on a chair, and one of the scrawny ones came close to my ear and said: ‘Now you will die many, many times.’ And another freak took a gas torch and, turning it on full power, points the flame at my partner’s head.

The hair caught fire instantly. The room filled with smoke and stench. He screamed at the top of his voice. One of the freaks held my eyes so I couldn’t close them and watched all this. My colleague was screaming, and his cry echoed off the concrete walls. Then, when the smoke cleared and he lost consciousness, I saw what still stands before my eyes: charred, melted skin together with hair hanging from his head, exposing the skull. He was still alive; I saw him breathing. Then one of them took a knife and simply slit his throat. Blood sprayed on the floor.

His suffering didn’t last long, and I understood it would be my turn. I decided to buy time and try to talk to them. They sat me on the same chair, throwing my colleague into a corner. When the kerosene lamp lit that place, I saw what was happening there. There were children. Those same children whose photos were shown to me by crying parents.

God, what they did to them. They were really sick creatures who made some kind of effigies out of living people. I saw the girl who went for the phone. She stood motionless in a position like a ‘bridge.’ It was clear they intentionally broke her and fastened her with wire so the body wouldn’t change shape. The boy also stood with his arms and legs turned the other way. Their insides were removed, and the bodies were stuffed with straw. But apparently not all were removed, as the corpses were starting to rot, and I saw their eyes covered with fly larvae.

‘Why are you doing this?’ I couldn’t stand it. ‘Why children?’

‘Because He likes it,’ he muttered, pointing his head toward the ceiling. ‘For my Lord.’ And then I understood they were some fanatics.

‘Why do you stuff the bodies with straw?’ I asked again.

‘It’s a scarecrow. So we have a good harvest. So the weather doesn’t spoil,’ the freak grinned, running a knife over my ear. ‘But why children?’ I yelled. ‘Because they are weak and stupid,’ the second one said and stuffed a smelly rag into my mouth.

Elias paused. ‘I need to speak out, brother. My mind is going after all this.’ He continued through tears. ‘Then they slit the stomach of the guy who was with me and pulled out everything that was inside with their bare hands. They pulled it out and threw it at me. His intestines were hanging on my neck.

Listen, I interrupted. You said there were four of them. Where were the other two?

I don’t know. But that’s when my guys found me. They were looking for us and went to the scream. I heard a door slam and steps. My guys, covered in mud, broke in. One freak just opened the door and was gunned down instantly. Then a second shot at the other freak. The guys, seeing the picture around, just emptied their magazines into them.

I was sitting on the chair with my pants down, crying, holding my friend’s intestines. I had a nervous breakdown. Later, SWAT and the ambulance arrived. I quit the force. Those other two were never caught. No one knows where they went. Maybe they ran to another city to snatch children and turn them into scarecrows.

I often think, what would have happened if the guys didn’t find that place? If they didn’t make it? We wouldn’t be talking now. It’s very scary, brother. And I’m indebted to those guys until I die. They told me later they went to the scream. It was heard well in the forest. To the scream of the poor guy whose head was being melted with a gas torch.’

‘What to do with those two?’ I asked.

‘Not my concern anymore. Let someone else deal with them,’ he said, poured another shot of bourbon, and quietly cried.”