You may think I'm crazy but I know I'm not. It started with a simple phone call; a slip of the voice, a change of tone, inflection being a bit off but could just be brushed off, "hey Edward I need some help here!" The heavy breathing on their side.
A roll of my eyes followed by a sigh, "Jude, what did you get yourself in trouble with this time?"
He pleads, "come on you owe me! Please after this you won't owe me anymore!" You may seem surprised but I've gotten myself in quite a bit of trouble with the scraps I've found myself in; diving in fist a swinging and a temper a raging as it were. Always putting someone on the back foot. My buddy pulled connections with a cop buddy to help me out in a pinch a few times I must admit and to ignore his cries for my help feel disrespectful. So I got my ass out of bed and got into my truck to meet him.
I'd ask, "text me the directions to where you need me to be." The directions I was given was to an old abandoned factory that had multiple trucks coming in and out delivering something on the daily back in the day; this was decades ago, nothing about this place would scream, "hey cult stuff and demons!" out to me like his usual targets.
I shouldn’t have let my guard down. Jude had been obsessing over a spirit he described as zombie-like—one that infects whoever it touches, twisting their mind until they glimpse something beyond death. Most of his stories ended mid-ritual, cut off by frightened witnesses or dubious evidence. I admit, I never took him fully seriously.
By the time I found his car abandoned near the factory gate, unease settled in my chest. My first thought: the engine died. My second: he’s in trouble.
Then my phone buzzed.
“turn off your lights!”
It was the same two commands he always used—turn off your lights, get your ass over here—only now they felt urgent, almost panicked. He’d never needed me like this before.
To give some background info on him; Jude is an independent journalist after his boss wouldn't pay him to look into the occult and other things going on. He stalked, spied and reported on ceremonies dedicated to summoning demons. He's always had a knack for finding trouble and getting the help he needed for getting out of said trouble. The only reason he'd call me; is if he needed me to scrap. In no time flat; I'd climb the barb wired fence; it's quite easy, wrap a blanket or towel thick enough layers around it to jump over the other side and boom; easy as that.
On the other side, something felt off. The light beam coming from someone but it didn't feel human with how it moved towards me; as it got closer it looked like my friend from a distance but as it got closer; it looked wrong. At first I'd tried hiding which due to my stature and size that wasn't very effective. It didn't take long for it to close the distance on me. So since flight wasn't a choice, a singular punch into the jaw of the monster only to feel like I'm punching concrete. The recoil from the pain as it goes to swipe at me; it's claws extending on each swipe as I'm bobbing and weaving between slashes. It doesn't take much to trip it at least; giving me enough time to run.
The rage boiling up inside of me, having to run like a coward and not go down swinging but right now; my friend was on my mind first and foremost. As I'd search the ruins to find no one. Until a whisper could be heard, "hey; come here!" I'd found him; a corrupted twisted form of him. His body looking muscular, pulsing and broken. That through the monster flesh; the bubbling black flesh I can recognize it's my friend, it's Jude.
Jude coughing, "Jackass; what are you doing here?" A huge relief washes over me as I hug him, his black flesh feeling hot and sticky; also smelling like a rotting corpse. He coughs, "don't get cut by me; that thing cut me and look at me." To this I'm shaking my head.
I assure him, "we'll get you medical help; come on don't worry man we will get you help." A meek smile on his face, I'm dragging him over my shoulder, carefully slipping by the monster as it's trying to use the flash light to the best of it's ability on the phone setting. The creature gets an idea then starts to call my phone. It didn't take me long to book it, getting my friend over the fence and then myself. On the other side; getting him into my car. We drive out of there. I take him to the hospital, with them trying to their best to deal with and take care of him. When given the chance I'm visiting his room; we go over the time we spent together, when we met each other when playing soccer when we were kids, the fact he was the reason why I even met my girlfriend in the first place. Us going on adventures together for better or for the worse.
The two of us talking, I'm escorted out by a nurse. As I am men in hazmat suits swarm his room. I've put two and two together; getting myself ready to scrap. One went down easy but the guards nearby they brought with them; well didn't take long for them to start beating my ribcage and my face until I started bleeding. They drag us both away. The US government of course. In an interrogation room they have many needles, wires, pliers, saws, if it hurts and keeps me alive; you name it. To the best of my ability I've given them all the info I've known but that doesn't stop them from torturing me.
To them; I'm hiding something, to them I'm no different from the cultist they hunted. Of all the times I've gotten myself into this mess. One beating after another; being fed through where the sun don't shine. Every step of the way I'd fought them and eventually antagonize them just for the fun of it; them trying to break my spirit. Of course a guy with glasses comes in one day; giving them info and the person torturing me has their face go white.
He apologizes oddly enough, "I'm so sorry; we got the wrong guy."
I spit out blood only to ask, "where is Jude?"
He looks away, "he is dying; he started to enter a feral state and we strapped him down to a table." It didn't take long for me to push past him, running towards the noises where I could hear a half human half monster sound; sounding like my friend is begging and pleading through gags of pain only to see him fully turn, trying to swipe at scientist and shocked to be put back to rest. The guards tackle me but the nearby people take them off of me.
You maybe wondering how and why I'm able to tell you this. Well for one I don't have much to live for; as you can imagine torture doesn't do good for the human life span and the drugs they put in your body to experiment on you since you're considered an enemy of the state. Furthermore; I'm a mad man, my ramblings and ideas mean nothing to them. The day they do; is the day I'm put down like a dog and this post goes offline.
I mean honestly how many bad actors were revealed as an open secret only to later find out there was more missing info and context? You maybe asking me to provide more details; people, places and names but the truth is; in that place while being flayed my mind started to forget things. I can't tell if it's the drugs or the fact torture ruins your ability to remember info; not enhance it.
With me being a free man at least; I got a settlement that I don't want to brag how much I got but let's just say; it's an insane amount for what I had to go through. That being said; I'd rather not have been tortured, I can't even sleep without having ptsd because of it. As I stay up at my computer typing away I find something strange.
What's strange; is I can hear something with my voice calling out to me.
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