“Hello?”, goes my inner voice, but I get no response. 

My name is Oliver Reeves, the story you are about to read contains the bits and pieces or remnants- if you will, of my death. Well- my life and what it once was. I don’t remember much about my life if I'm honest- but I do know what caused my death- or should I say, who? 

Well, I'm getting ahead of myself, October 8th, 2019, it had been a really cold and wet night, I just finished my 8 hour shift at a “dead-end” job (working nights at my local diner open pretty much all night, we closed by 12am and re-opened later in the day by 7am) the job wasn’t  my dream job by any means- but hey! 

It paid the bills, in the end, that’s all that mattered, and at the end of the night being done and going home to my dog (Barley). It was always pleasant getting off of work to go home, I was always tired by the end of the night of the sickening grease smell that lingered on my clothes afterwards from having been cooking greasy food all day, on the other hand, my dog definitely didn’t seem to mind. I started making the long, lonely walk back home after locking up for the night, it was still pouring by the time I got off so I pulled out an umbrella; pulling my jacket around my shoulders tighter as the chilly wind blew, it was even colder due to it being autumn. The colorful but damp and dirtied leaves from the trees ahead were strewn about in the street, soggy piles littered everywhere as though it was a perfect, imperfect mess, clogging up the drain storms I passed and creating small pools of water along the sidewalks, all running the same way, forward. The sound of my heels clicking against the wet pavement as I walked the empty street, the clicking simply being background noise to my thoughts. That is, until I heard another set of feet click clacking behind me, almost as if thunder had just arrived, I tried not to pay any mind to it,but the sound only seemed to get louder, growing closer. The sound of my heart thumping in my ears seemed to drown out the sound of the footsteps, only creeping closer with every step, every time I attempted to walk faster, they quickened behind me, ignoring the alarm bells going off in my head-something not sitting right with me, my head’s inner voice going ‘Get the hell out of there!’. But I didn’t listen, mustering up the courage to confront the person, I stopped, spun around and was ready to give whoever it was a piece of my mind (if only I had known it was going to be so literal...).

No one was there, almost as if they had been the footsteps of a phantom, was it all just in my head, had it all just been in my head? No.

I could've sworn I heard someone, FELT something behind me, I chalked it up to late night nerves and continue walking home, what WAS that just now? An animal- No; the footsteps were too “human-like”, thoughts pooling in my head as I continued to wonder what it could've been. Walking up the steps I arrive home safely, my dog there to eagerly greet me, but more so for the fact that he wanted to lick the condiment and grease stains off my apron, I kicked my shoes off at the door, closing it behind me and making absolute sure I locked it, I took off my apron and placed it on a kitchen chair, looking at the walls of my home, covered in photos of people who I think..were my family? All of what would be my memories are blurry now that I'm dead I guess, but we’re still not there yet I suppose. My legs and feet ached severely from doing the same thing everyday for however long, I wearily stumbled into my kitchen, Barley following close behind me, his little clawed toes click-clacking against the the cold tile floor beside me, whining eagerly for dinner as I picked up his bowl and poured in his food and a bit of beef broth from the fridge. Setting it on the floor I made my way over to the fridge and opened it up, a cool blast of air hitting my face- washing over my shoulders, I was searching for something if anything to at least waver the hunger I felt, too worn out from my shift, I decided to just order pizza, closing my eyes, thinking “I’m just going to rest my eyes for a minute till the pizza gets here…” one minute..two minutes- three, it had seemed that only seconds had passed, but by the time I heard pounding on my door it was already 12:03 PM. I sleepily staggered over thinking nothing of it and unlocked the door, a tall, dreary man stood there looking at me, seeming almost- anxious and uncertain, like he didn’t belong here, his uniform ragged and dirty, however I was too tired to question it much less care. I fished around in my pockets looking for my wallet, giving a quick agitated sigh. I simply gave a half smile and said “one minute”, shuffling into my kitchen- desperately searching for my wallet. Then all of a sudden I felt something hit the back of my head hard. My head burned, the warm tingling sensation covered the back of my head but I didn’t have time to react, before I knew it  hands were wrapped around my throat, squeezing like the vise grip of a python, what took minutes seemed like hours my lungs burned, longing for error as my head spun, my whole life laid out before me almost as if to pick one inle memory to play out one last time. I had been kicking and scratching at my attackers scally hands, hoping for anything, but in the end- my vision went black and my body sank limp, the warm sensation on the back of my head had been blood- and now it had stained my carpet and the attackers hands… my last moments had been full of fear and lonely thoughts. I thought I was fine.

Opening up what used to be my eyes I sat there staring coldly at my mangled body. (I thought I had survived, I thought it was over, but all there was- was cold bitter silence and the warmth of my body leaving me. The fear filling my lungs forced me to breathe. If only it was an actual breath, it felt as though icy air had “brushed through me”. Whoever my attacker was he sat there silently for a moment, as if just finally realizing what he’d just done. What had been my once heart would have been racing, yet all there was- was cold bitter silence. He sat there with my body for what felt like hours. Finally he dragged my cold limp “flesh cell” outside, hurriedly opening the trunk of an old beat up looking car and dumping me inside the trunk (slamming) it shut. Scrambling over to the driver's side he starts speeding away into the pitch of night. He stopped once we had gotten to what looked like a small farm shed, rusty tools lined the walls. I might not have been in my physical form anymore but I still felt the urge to heave, when my cold bruised body was dragged in. Tearing off what clothes I had on that night. With no hesitation he did the hardest part first, by sawing off and separating the head of my body, moving his way to each body part and chopping them up into smaller pieces. I noticed the smaller details of the man's hands as he worked. His hands were rough and dry, cracked and withered from the weather and I'm guessing hard labor over the years. Then I noticed his eyes, hard and cold little hollow holes in his harsh looking face, his hair and face were dirty- his nose scrunched I’m guessing due to the rotten stench of death that lingered in the air, the smell came from all the rotting animal carcasses littered throughout the floor- so putrid I couldn’t begin to comprehend how he wasn’t heaving at the smell.

After dismembering me he proceeded to boil a large pot of water and “cooked” my limbs- each at a time, scraping the meat off my remains and discarding of them into a large tub- however for my bones, he opted to throw them into a large black bag and keeping two of my larger one’s for whatever sick reason. My (used to be) gut wrenched into a knot from what I had seen by now, I stuck around like a bad taste in someone’s mouth, he had chosen to dump my remnants into an ocean side cliff- from then on I have wandered this lonely cliff, angry- waiting for someone to come find me. Of course I hadn't known this but I had already been reported missing and my family had traveled from their homes in Tennessee to come look for me, unfortunately the only thing police found so far was the clues from the crime scene which was my phone but nothing was going to look abnormal or seem like a clue other then the biggest hidden clue of all, I ordered pizza. But it wasn't only my death they were busy with, just behind my home was the body of a young man- he was stripped naked with no form of identification on him, nonetheless investigators were able to piece together that he was originally the guy delivering the pizza. They formed the concept that my attacker had been trying to find ways into my home when the pizza guy came along and gave him the perfect opportunity, he took one of the rocks forming a ring around the tree in front of my home and bashed the guy's head in, afterwards changing into the employees uniform and impersonating him to try and get into my home.

My case has been cold for a little over a year now, now you might be asking yourself, “how do you know all this?” well- thing is, despite being dead I'm still “spiritually connected”, or whatever you wanna call it, connected to both the seaside cliff and my killer's home where he kept two of my largest bones like prized possessions to be put on display. The thought of it was revolting, this is where I am now- stuck in “limbo” and wandering the grounds by the cliffside, but I have learned two things in this past cold, dead year.   (To be continued…)