Chapter 1Our Dark Obsession

I retired in the summer of 2022.

As a cop, I’ve handled more cases than I can count, but if you ask me which one sticks out the most, it’d have to be the summer of 2000.

I got a call about a new case.

At first, I thought it was a prank call. I mean, in all my years on the force, I’d never gotten a report about a dead pig.

But duty calls. I took a rookie, Jake Miller, with me out to the slaughterhouse on the edge of town.

It wasn’t until I got there that I realized how messed up this whole thing was.

* * *

It was July, scorching hot.

The smell of the slaughterhouse, intensified by the heat, was unbelievable.

The moment we stepped inside, Jake clamped his hand over his nose. Less than a minute later, he muttered, “Can’t do it,” turned around, and bolted outside.

Honestly, I could barely stand it myself.

Back then, the facilities were basic. Two huge concrete pools dominated the center of the floor. They filled them with water in the morning and didn’t change it all day.

By now, the water was thick and red, reeking of grease and something else… something foul that crawled up your nostrils and punched the back of your brain.

Above the pools, two rows of steel pipes ran along each side, studded with dozens of rusty hooks.

On the far side, carcasses hung, freshly slaughtered today. The muscles were still twitching, spasming.

"Who called this in?"

My eyes swept the area, my gaze hard. The feeling that this was a prank grew stronger.

Cell phones were becoming more common. Some kid probably got hold of their parents' phone, heard the pigs squealing in here, got scared, and dialed 911. We’d been pranked plenty of times.

"I did."

A few seconds later, a faint voice came from deeper inside. Sounded like a grown man.

I walked further in, the glaring red of the floor making my eyes ache.

The concrete floor wasn't even, pitted and uneven. Blood pooled in the depressions, covered with a layer of pinkish foam.

The thick metallic tang of blood hit me hard. Even after years as a cop, it was almost too much.

Innards were scattered everywhere, especially the intestines, spilling their contents, mixing with the blood. The stench made you want to gag. You couldn't stand it for more than a second.

"What's going on here?"

Why wasn't this... thing... hanging on a hook like the others? Why was it just dumped on the floor in pieces?

I forced myself to look calm as I turned to the owner standing behind me, my eyes sharp, trying to read him.

"Officer, I don't even know how to answer that. This ain't no pig!"

The owner sounded genuinely baffled, almost offended, looking at me with wide, confused eyes.

His answer threw me. If it wasn't a pig, what was it?

Its head was lying right there, on top of a pile of actual pig heads, dripping blood. Clearly just chopped off.

The ears, the snout… weren't they pig parts?

I watched the owner, wary. Something was definitely wrong here.

Seeing my disbelief, the owner got agitated, gesturing wildly at the mess on the floor, his voice urgent.

"I been slaughtering pigs for fifteen years, Officer! Don't you think I know a pig when I see one? Those ain't pig bones."

He raised his voice, loud enough for Jake to hear from outside. Jake poked his head back in, saw the scene, almost gagged again, but managed to hold it together this time.

"Take a look! Does that look human to you?"

Despite my own unease, I wasn't a medical examiner. I'd heard pigs and humans had similar structures, but looking at this… mess… I couldn’t tell a damn thing.

Jake, though, the rookie, was fresh out of the academy, top of his class. He'd even taken some forensic science courses. Not an expert, but he knew his way around human bones better than I did.

He picked up one of the trotters, examined it closely, then stared hard at the pile of heads for a long moment. Finally, he looked at me. "Boss," he said, his voice low but certain. "I'm sure of it. This is a person."