Hello again, this is... well I just realized that I neglected to mention my name in my last message. My name is Joshua. Joshua Soaryn. Hence the username. I do apologize for that. But I thought that the first post I made on here would likely be my last. As I have quickly discovered I was very very wrong.
Somehow the person who killed Ron and Jeremy found out about my telling you people. I'm not sure how, but he did. Before reading the rest of this I strongly caution you to NOT POST ANY PERSONAL INFORMATION ON HERE. It may just save your life.
As I said before I sought out my mother for information on my childhood. Reading my last post you should know that the man who killed my friends indicated that he knew me from a long time ago. I assume that he meant my childhood. So I went to my mother to find out further information. Perhaps I had been kidnapped when I was young and she hasn't told me because she didn't want me to be afraid that it would happen again. Parents do that you know.
Anyways I went to her house. I drove up to her house sometime around four thirty. As soon as I got out of the car I noticed that something was wrong with the place. My mother always always started cooking dinner at four o'clock. She liked to eat very early. It was a habit she developed while I was in high school. I was always hungry after school so she made sure to start making something soon after I got off the bus. The problem was that this time I couldn't catch the scent of anything cooking coming from the house.
Of course I just shrugged it off. She had probably stopped cooking early since I was no longer around to cook for. Or maybe she was just having leftovers that day and decided to microwave something up instead of slaving over a hot stove for an hour. There were a ton of ways that I could have explained it to myself before walking in that front door. None of them would have been close to the truth though.
I truly started to suspect that something was wrong when I started walking up to the front porch of the house. That was when I did smell something. It was the kind of thing that you only smell inside of a morgue or a graveyard. It was rancid and loud and it burned my nostrils the moment it touched my nose. It was no regular bad smell like that of trash or burnt food. No, this was the smell of death.
This started to freak me out. I got really nervous. Death was something that you don't smell unless something is... well, dead. I rushed to the door and flung it open.
Opening the door the smell just got worse. The putrid scent bombarded my nasal cavity causing me to choke on the air. There was no doubt about it now. Something had died there. The only question now was what.
"Mom! Are you home?" I yelled desperately into open air. No answer.
Rushing through the house I saw nothing. Kitchen, nothing. Dining room, nothing. My old bedroom, nothing. Then I ran upstairs to find that my mother's bedroom door was open. Lying before me was not my mother alive and well. It was one of the most horrifying sights that I will ever see in my life. I am not ashamed to say that I screamed and closed the door at first.
"This is not happening. This is not happening. This is not happening." I repeated it over and over to myself like a mantra as if it would enable me to just unsee the terrible sight that I had just beheld.
Opening the door once again I looked upon it again. My god it was horrible. I'm not even sure that I want to write down what it was. But I have to. Otherwise you'll never know the horror of what happened in there.
Lying on her bed was my mother's bloody dead naked body. But the body wasn't just naked. It wasn't intact.
Her body did not have the limbs attached to it. Both of her arms were lying in a corner of the room. Her left leg was on the dresser that she kept. The right leg was no where to be found. Of course that wasn't enough. Her torso was ripped open as if by an animal. There was a huge gaping hole on the lower half of her body.
But her head... her head was the worst. The eyes were gauged out but you could still see the expression of terror on her face. It was locked in an endless appearance of shock, horror, and pain. Somehow all at the same time. Whoever had killed her had also carved two holed into her cheeks.
I'm pretty sure that I vomited. How else would the pile of half digested enchilada and cheerios have ended up on the floor of her room?
There was no doubt about it now. Some sick human being had murdered my mother. I had to call the police immediately. Frantically I flipped my cell phone out of my pocket I dialed 911.
"Nine One One, what's your emergency?" Asked the receiver.
"Hi, my mother was murdered. I just found her dead body in her house." I replied.
"Are you sure that she was murdered?"
"Her fucking limbs were ripped from her body! Do you know of any household accident that can cause that?" I yelled at her. She probably didn't deserve it, but my mother was dead. That allows me to be a bit angry at people, doesn't it?
"Ok sir. Please calm down. What is your location?"
"(I've removed this just in case. It was my mother's address.)"
"Thank you, there will be help on the way in approximately fifteen minutes. Just hold on tight."
I closed the phone and waited. The police officers came in twenty minutes. Late as usual. They might have thought it was a joke if I hadn't been so agitated on the phone. They cleaned things up and set up an investigation to find out who killed her. But I doubt that they will. After all I know now, and I'm going to make sure that I get my revenge.
How do I know? Well ten minutes before they arrived I found two things on my mother's dresser next to her left leg. The first was her journal. Which I couldn't bear to read at the time since it was her only private memoirs. I wouldn't dare to bring her such disrespect. Especially since she was dead.
The second thing was a small CD labeled "Security Tape". Two weeks before her death my mother had installed a security system into her house. "Just in case." She had said. I told her it was ridiculous that anyone would want to rob her since she had nothing of value. Now I'm glad that she didn't listen to me.
When the police got there the first thing that I did was give them the security footage. I kept the diary. I doubt that they wouldn't have been able to use it to figure out who the killer was anyways. After all, it was just a journal. It wasn't like she had planned her own murder or anything. They let me as they thought there was no way that it could have ever affected the investigation. At least that's what the officer said. Whether or not that was actually true remains to be seen.
We went down to the police station where we talked for a while about what I saw and what I thought might have happened. Naturally I had no fuckin' idea. Eventually one thing led to another and we decided that we would watch the tape together. We walked over to the conference room where they kept their DVD player and popped the disc in the player.
The video started out like a normal household security system would. This CD just seemed to contain the footage from my mother's bedroom so that was all that it showed. My mother was lying down on her bed sleeping. I could see that her mouth was open and that she was snoring but no sound came out. So I assumed that either the file had been tampered with or the system just didn't record sound.
Seeing my mother so peaceful like that and more importantly alive like that caused tears to rush to my eyes. I began bawling and had to pause the video for a moment. Just because I had the strength to hunt down her killer didn't mean that I wasn't devastated by the loss.
After a few minutes of crying my eyes out I pulled myself together and started watching the video again. It kept going on and on for about thirty minutes with just her sleeping. She was so peaceful before she died. How could someone want to kill someone like her?
At thirty two minutes in a man walked into the room. The camera was placed over the door so you couldn't see his face. The man walked over to the bed and jumped on top of it. My mother started to stir. Then the man took a needle out of his pocket and as she screamed, he injected her with whatever was in it.
I'm not really sure what was in that needle. Whatever it was, it paralyzed my mother almost completely. I say almost completely because even on the video recording I could see the look of fear on her eyes.
The man stripped my mother down naked and pulled a knife out of a sheath that was attached to his pants. What he did to her was horrible. I'm sure it brought her unimaginable pain. It's not enough to just tell you what he did though. To truly understand the pain that my mother went through you have to know something important.
The vagina has more nerve endings that any other part of the female body. Specifically the clitoris. This makes it the most sensitive part of a woman's body. This means that it is an incredible instrument during a sexual experience. It can also means that it hurts a lot if it were to get injured.
The man used the knife to literally cut off my mother's clitoris. I could see the pain in her eyes once again. Her pupils dilated and her eyes teared up. The man then used the knife to carve out the rest of my mother's stomach through her vagina. Blood spilled all over the bed sheets and then her eyes went dead. This was the moment that my mother had died.
I couldn't watch any more. I paused the video and began crying once again. The officer patted me on the back in consolation. He was pretty disgusted up to this point too. You could tell by the look on his face. You could try to hide the expression but there's no disguising the look of shock in your eyes when you see murder like that.
I decided that I didn't want to watch the rest of the video completely so we just skimmed through it. There was frame after frame of this man doing unspeakable acts to my mother. I hope that never again in my life I will have to see something as disgusting and horrifying as what this man did to her. Even just skimming through the footage it was disturbing to me.
When he finished though, he turned and kept his head down and away from the camera. This was when I stopped skimming and started watching for real again. I was almost afraid that I wouldn't be able to see his face. But just before he walked out of the door he turned to face the camera.
It was the man that had killed my friends. He just stared at the camera for a few minutes. Then his lips moved in an very distinct pattern. Even someone who wasn't trained in reading lips would have been able to tell what he said. His lips made two simple words. Short yet ever haunting to my mind.
"Read it."
If you ask the police officer then to this day he will deny seeing the man say anything. We watched the ending several more times to be sure of who the man was. They pulled up the description that I gave them of the arsonist and sure enough it matched up.
I still keep that journal though. I've never read it and I doubt I ever will. I keep it on my mantlepiece. It just sits there. Unmoving, like a rock with infinite weight. No one touches it, and no one ever will.
This time the investigation didn't just take days. It took a full year before they gave up. To answer the question in your mind, no. They never did find the man who killed my mother and set that house on fire. I doubt they ever will. For all I know he could still be out there hiding, waiting, plotting. Searching perhaps, for his next victim.