Original Composition Date: Wednesday, March 14, 2010
I came home to find a sink full of blood, from an enforced molar tooth removal. Besides the two teeth, swimming in blood and water, the tools of this hatchet job, had also been left in plain sight: A pair of vise grips, and a hammer. At first it wasn’t apparent what the hammer could possibly have been used for. I imagined someone being knocked over the head with it, in a violent confrontation.
My first impulse was to call the cops. I picked up the phone, and was dialing 911 when it occurred to me to look for someone in the house first. The question “whose teeth are those?” rolled itself around over and over again, like a broken tape, in my brain. Why would teeth be in my kitchen sink? Were they even human? Or were they somehow removed from a genetically altered being, who had perhaps attacked someone in my family?
I raced from room to room, with possible scenarios expandiing themselves exponentially, with each empty, and apparently undisturbed room I entered. But there was a strange smell that hadn’t been there before I left on my vacation. Someone had definitely been here, while I was away. The evidence lay unexplained in the sink.
I sat down, in the study, to calm myself down. No sense yelling incoherently into the phone. I used the extension phone there to call the cops to explain the situation and ask what I should do with the stuff in the sink.
Adrenaline from fear, was now pumping through me, because I had not found any rational explanation. The cops were sending a car over to the house. They said to put on some lights, and not touch anything in the sink. I guessed they wanted to check for fingerprints, something I couldn’t do. They said they would collect everything, there as evidence, in case this was more than a simple home tooth extraction.
“Sometimes these things can be related to another case we are working on”, said the dispatch, before she hung up.
I was supposed to stay here, and wait to be questioned by police. I wasn’t comfortable with that. The smell I had at first only noticed as mildly unpleasant, was getting stronger. I checked under the couch, and under all the beds. I felt like a little kid, afraid of the dark, again.
Since there still wasn’t anyone knocking on the door to help me, I mustered up what remaining courage I could find……. opened all the closet doors, this time. I had armed myself with a large flashlight, and poked thoroughly under all the clothes hung there. Lots of shoes, more of that terrible smell…..
Finally a knock on the door…”It better be the cops”, I thought to myself. Just as I rushed down the hall to the front door, I heard a crash from the back of the house. Like a vase going over onto the floor. Except that I didn’t have any vases sitting out on tables of any kind…….
Was I glad to see the policewoman at the door. I ushered her right into the kitchen, and turned on the light.
Funny I hadn’t thought to do that before. I couldn’t see at first, because the light seemed unusually bright. I couldn’t quite see what else was in the sink now, but there definitely was something making crunching, bone chewing sounds. The policewoman pulled out her gun, and pushed me to the side. I fell against the table. There was another of those creatures, but this one was sitting in the middle of the kitchen table, holding a fork and knife, eating something very red and raw. It looked calm, and old, and our presence didn’t seem to bother it at all.
Just before I fainted, I heard the policewoman say , ” if these are not yours, then your house has just gone under quarantine. Please back out slowly, and close the door as soon as we get out.”