What if the COVID Vaccine was a covert government project to eliminate Vampires by degrading their human-blood-sourced food supply? What if it was bungled by Fauci and the National Health Agency bureaucrats and now Vampires want payback? What if humans have no idea of what Vampires really are?
AN UNKIND CUT
MORRISTOWN, NJ POLICE DISPATCH:
“…ALL UNITS IN VICINITY OF MORRISTOWN MEMORIAL HOSPITAL EAST PARKING GARAGE SECOND LEVEL RESPOND IMMEDIATELY….DOUBLE CODE THREE – I REPEAT, DOUBLE CODE THREE AT LOCATION SECOND LEVEL…PROCEED WITH EXTREME CAUTION……DOUBLE CODE THREE……ALL AVAILABLE BACKUP REQUESTED…….MORRIS COUNTY PROSECUTOR’S OFFICE NOTIFIED AND IS RESPONDING”.
FOX NEWS COMMUNICATIONS CENTER, RUTHERFORD, NJ:
“NORTHWEST JERSEY SATELLITE UNITS FOUR AND SEVEN PROCEED TO MORRISTOWN MEMORIAL HOSPITAL IN MORRISTOWN, NJ FOR BREAKING DOUBLE HOMICIDE / MURDER…POLICE ON SCENE…”
MORRISTOWN, NJ POLICE TO DISPATCH:
“DISPATCH – MORRISTOWN MEMORIAL HOSPITAL RESPONDING UNITS 333 AND 267 ON SCENE REQUEST FORENSIC TEAM AND BACKUP TO SEAL OFF CRIME LOCATION…..TWO CODE THREE VICTIMS CONFIRMED….SATELLITE NEWS MOBILE UNITS ANTICIPATED….SPOKESPERSON REQUESTED ASAP FOR MEDIA STATEMENT……”
Morris County Prosecutor’s Office Detective Del Hogan stood at the edge of a yellow perimeter police tape that responding Morristown Police Officers Kucinich and Berman just stretched from cement column to cement column inside the parking garage second level. They’d created a rough cordon sanitaire surrounded a green 2022 Toyota Four-Runner, NJ tags S52BXT, that was their immediate object of interest – and now it was Detective Hogan’s turn.
Looking at the prefab concrete superstructure above he could see a security CCTV camera dangling on one wire, limp and useless. There were probably others. Ironically, he had about forty-five minutes left on his time-clock when he got the call from dispatch……Him and his partner, Jac Prentice, were wrapping up their monthly rotation on the Thursday night “graveyard shift”. Now their uneventful night duty and Friday morning freestyle plans were like smoke blowing out a tailpipe. This was a Code Three.
Six foot and a trim hundred and sixty-five pounds, Hogan was a twenty-year law enforcement veteran who’d seen more than his share of gore at his previous job as a patrol cop with the City of Paterson Police Department. Morristown tended to be more of a middle-class crime haven – property crimes, thefts, burglaries, domestic violence, juvenile run-ins, drug investigations. Code “threes” or Homicides were relatively rare here…..and this one was a double-doozey. If anything looked like murder – this did. He had to cross his “t”s and dot his “i”s on this one, for sure.
He suited up in sterile disposable overalls, rubber gloves and a face shield and instructed his partner, Prentice, to do the same. They dipped under the police tape and Hogan gingerly approached the driver’s side door. First thing he noticed was the door handle bent outward and twisted…. and that the driver’s door was misalligned with the abutting front fender and rear door seams. It looked like it was barely hanging on its hinges.
Blood was splattered everywhere inside the vehicle. Whoever did this had the good sense to close the windows and doors of the car so all the evidence stayed inside….it was probably going to be what cops call a “finite evidentiary field”. Just to be sure, Hogan and Prentice carefully surveyed the parking space and surrounding area of the Toyota for anything that looked interesting or out of place.
“Nothing here…..” Prentice remarked, waiting for Hogan to give the “all clear” to enter the car. Hogan pulled the driver’s door handle and immediately got barraged by atmospheric overload…….smells of blood, excrement, urine……..
Prentice opened the rear passenger’s door and immediately pulled himself back out, grabbing his face shield. He spoke in his usual, “direct” manner, fanning at the escaping foul air with his hands in front of him.
“Looks like the old man in the back shat himself…….Hmmm……looks like a broken neck from the angle of his upper torso……Maybe he was made to watch what was going on up front and lost control of his bowels…..I don’t blame him…..Jesus H. Christ……what a freekin’ mess…….”
Detective Hogan could see right off the hop that the woman belted in to the driver’s seat had sufficient time to do just that – belt herself in – before her death ordeal began. Hogan grabed the door handle and – sure enough – it fell open in a wobbly, bent travel radius and screamed a metal-against-metal howl that echoed through the garage around him.
“Some unidentified Hercules ripped opened this door against its wishes……then jammed it back shut with sledgehammer finesse……” Hogan mumbled out loud.
The woman’s shoulder-length hair was pulled tightly behind her head, thru the neck rest and knotted on the steel rods that connected it to the seat back. Blood was caked on everything, so he couldn’t make out the type of knot – but it looked tight. Tight enough to immobilize the poor victim.
“This looks like ritualistic slaughter….a sacrifice.” Hogan said to Prentice. “Whoever cut her forced open the door – busting it off its hinges and bending the shit out of its alignment – and then pinned her neck backwards so he could cut her throat. A half-inch deeper and he’d have decapitated her.”
Hogan felt that usual sourness in his mouth and throat that accompanied his looking at butchered people….some things never change. Some things a cop just never got used to….most cops were tortured like that.
“You can see her neck vertebra through that slice – look! It’s clean through her windpipe….” Hogan backed up into the parking open parking space behind him to catch his breath and clear his head. He could see Prentice opening the front passenger side door.
“Yo! Hey – I got the lady’s purse……..don’t seem to be opened by the looks of the blood caking over it……you want I should look inside?”
Hogan responded with disgusted resignation. “Yeah…what the Hell….we gotta’ contact the family sooner or later….”
He surveyed the vehicle, planning his next move. Cops were darting around the faciility and directing parking garage traffic around the crime scene… Out of the corner of his eye he saw a grey-haired man in a white coat hurrying towards him, obviously aggitated.
“Excuse me, Officer? I’m Dr. Sharma…I’m Managing Senior Oncologist here at the Hospital….may…may I speak with you?”
Hogan was in the “zone” – that place beyond space and time where he measured and fitted the puzzle pieces together inside his head…..where there was room for nothing else but relentless focus for what he hungered for most……answers. Dr. Sharma’s interruption shattered his concentration like a brick tossed through a plate glass window.
“Why…..yes….yes……Of course……I’m Detective Del Hogan with the Morris County Prosecutor’s Office….how can I help you?”
Dr. Sharma spoke in intermittent stammers made worse by his Indian accent. He was visibly shaking, pointing at the Toyota SUV.
“I…believe….I believe I know…… this woman……And the old man…….They come to my offices in Morris Township in this very vehicle….I see the father every month for Chemotherapy. This month he required blood tests so we had to perform his infusion therapy at the Hospital…….Her name is Jeanette Croft.….and his name is Andrew Denson……Dear God!!! What has happened here? Who could do such a thing?”
Detective Prentice had already dug the woman’s drivers license out of her bloody purse and was waving it in Hogan’s direction.
“Yup…..The Doctor’s right……
“Her name is Jeanette Croft……from “Tabernacle, NJ”……where the Hell is Tabernacle?”
“Burlington County…….South Jersey, way down in the Pine Barrens, I think”, responded Hogan with a weary look on his face. It was gonna’ be a long weekend……
Copyright, 2023
Jon Croft
