Doctor Elliot Winslow
of [H.S.E. Research Institute]
The following evidence has been translated from pen and paper to binary text directly from the ‘personal account’ of one County Sheriff ‘D. H. Hendrickson’. Names of the victims and survivors involved have been replaced per the family’s request. Any major discrepancy within the paper’s wording will be explained in depth per requested by the court. Read with discretion.
I don’t know why I’m having to write this down for the third godamn time now but here you go fucking desk jockey.
At 2:06 am, Tuesday, ——- [Witness #001] from the call lines gave a shout about some kids caught trespassing at the Turner’s old factory again. White truck. Another batch of paperwork. After letting her know I was in route I arrived at the front gate around 2:10 am, Tuesday. It was cracked from the last break in so I left my car behind and sent a call about two minutes later in case I was gonna need the dog. Godamn kids are fast, but not as fast as good ole Lassie.
After entering the compound on foot I managed to find the truck I’m pretty sure they came in. An old white Ford [Exhibit #001] more rust than metal, definitley the one old man —— [Witness #002] described. Windows wide open. Or broken I couldn’t rightly tell. It was parked at the side of that main dirt road heading northbound to whatever the hell county wants to call the mess of concrete at the end of it. You know that long road? One of them was already inside. Smelled it before I saw him.
It was awful. Thought he was dead. One of the worst I’ve ever encountered. I promptly reached for my service pistol and investigated further. Trying real hard to stop myself from losing dinner. —– (#001), the dumb kid that worked at Nancy’s place, was just sitting there holding the wheel. His clothes were a mess. All scratched up and torn. Looked like he went rolling around in mud then scooped some into the passenger seat. I asked his name. Must’ve been drunk, high or some shit because he kept staring forward. Holding the wheel so tight I thought he’d break it off or break his fingers.
Asked him again a little louder and got my flashlight out. No need for the gun so I laid off. Obviously. I don’t think he blinked the whole time real creepy. Before I could get a closer look something like a scream came from down the way. No way in hell was I going in without support so I thought I’d wait it out let my colleagues do their damn job. Take care of —– (#001) until then. I swear I only took my eyes off him for a godamn second and just like that. The kids gone. The smell too. No sound no nothing. No door opening. It was enough to make me hightail it back towards my ride. I don’t get paid enough to take pranks lightly. ‘I don’t care how sneaky they think they are’, what I told myself, if these kids wanna act up I’d get the whole team awake and out. Give them a real scare.
But then again. Closer this time. That scream. It was so loud. Made my hair stand up more than the usual cold winds did. Now I’m used to a lot of things. Seen a lot of real bad shit. That scream though. Still can’t get it out of my head. What the hell were they doing out there? Had a wicked thought so I pulled my big boy pants up and got to marching. Heading towards where I last heard it, gun a little more ready this time.
I know this sounds weird as hell but when I did make it to the spot and finally checked my watch it was 3:34 am! Hour and a half. Gone in less than a few minutes. Had to pinch myself then and there. I don’t know what the fuck happened. When the last scream I heard flew out from somewhere up at the factory I threw my clearly broken watch in my pocket and, running now, I pursued the noise. They wanna play. Then lets play. That’s all I was really thinking at that point. I don’t think I’ve ran that fast since football heading north up the dirt road.
I continued on for about 150 yards or so until I got to what looked like a jacket on the ground. (Exhibit #002) Had to be from one of trespassers so I scooped it up and rummaged through. Was hoping they left some form of identification. Dumb kids do dumb things. But all I found was an old grey flip phone. (Exhibit #003)
I woulda kept going but I swore I heard sirens in the distance so I gave up the chase and headed back. That damn road was hurting the knees so I was glad to see the flashing lights past the damned treeline. From there I made my way from the center of the road towards the white truck and then finally into Officer Conner’s vic. On the journey I decided to get a little revenge for wasting my night and did a little digging into the phone. I know I shouldn’t have and I’ll apologize to the family if I have to. Shit I’ll even take a pay drop. It was some girl’s, never heard of her, —— (#002) or some shit. Must’ve been new in town. The only thing I saw was an outgoing message. Which didn’t make much sense. If it really was a prank why leave it in such a hurry? How could they be that scared of me?
The message… the fucking message that started this whole godamn thing. The whole case I bet. It was going to her mom. I’m sure you already know the old man’s lawyers won’t stop screaming about it in the other room. And I’m with them on this one. Crazy. Every line of it. Now when the fuck can I get my coffee and why the hell won’t you talk to me. At least tell me why we had to get here so fast without even finding the punks. What the hell did I say in the car ride that’s got you so damn pissy?’
[Message retrieved from the victim’s phone is as follows, per court request]
‘Please help. It’s been so long. We’re hungry. ——- (#003) said we were running out of food…… —– (#001) told us the truck should’ve been out of gas miles ago…. He tried to keep count…. someone ran last time we stopped. I don’t think they(#004) made it. The sun should be here by now. Why isn’t the sun here?… I wanna go home….. Please mom…..
The road goes on forever…’
[Closing Notes for Casefile #233UT]
County Sheriff D. H. Hendrickson was found on scene at 12:33 pm, Saturday after a statewide search leading from the disappearance of the sheriff as well as the missing children had already occurred. Two bodies (#002 and #003) were recovered close to Turner’s factory with signs of exhaustion, starvation and physical trauma. The three still missing bodies were unaccounted for until Hendrickson was found by an officer who had finished removing residual police tape per ——‘s(Witness #001) request. The four days missing from his legal account led to the creation of [Casefile #233UT] added onto his overall inconsistency within the written personal transcript. The road is estimated by local surveyors to be about 20 feet in length from the entrance to the factory edge as it has been since it’s creation. Before he could be informed of the inconsistency and questioned for his contamination of evidence D. H. Hendrickson was sadly found hanging dead from copper pipes built into the top of his holding cell via the length of his tie. Internal investigations revealed no foul play. It is presumed he was mentally unstable at the time of his arrival and took his own life within this mental state.
Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on Creepypasta.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed under any circumstance.