My name is Fredrik Davidson, i am 23 years old and live in the city of Enköping. I am a cop, i know that most survivors say that they "used to be" something, but not me. As far as i am concerned i was and still am an officer of the law, sure the basic procedures have changed and my equipment has gotten itself a few modifications but still deep down i still do my job. I still protect and serve.
Okay, maybe i am getting ahead of myself here. Waayy to melodramatic introduction i know but hell, it is one of the few entertainments those bastards haven't taken away from us. Allow me to restart and tell you all about how it began.
I had been a cop for almost exactly two and a half years when it happened, me and my partner Glen had just clocked in for the graveyard shift and got sent to what we thought was a case of domestic abuse. We were not that worried, the couple we had gotten the call about was pretty well known for, as Glen put it, "Beating the shit out of each other and then having some crazy grudge sex!" so we just planned on going there, knock on the door, ask a few questions and (if it was serious) take them both down to the station for questioning.
When we got there we realized that something was wrong, every other time we had come around to the couples house there was always shouting, screaming and the sound of struggle. But this time, dead quiet. Me and Glen looked at each other, we didn't say anything but I know we thought the same thing, that something was terribly amiss. We knocked on the door and shouted the regular "Police! Open up the door!", but nothing. We knocked again, nothing. Now the suspicions began to really get at us, had the couple confidently killed each other during their fight? Had one of them killed the other and then committed suicide? Finally we both couldn't stand it anymore and radioed in that we were going in, so we drew our weapons and kicked in the door.
In all the movies and the books this is when the heroes see the terrible monster chewing on the victim or see trails of blood leading just out of sight. But as a matter of fact we didn't see anything unusual, the lights were still on and (aside from some things that was out of place) there was no real sign of a struggle. We carefully entered the house and called out for the residents but nothing, we had searched the entire bottom floor when we all of a sudden heard something moving on the floor above, we had almost reached the bottom of the stairs when we heard something falling down them. A female body came tumbling down the stairs, a sickening "CRACK!" was heard occasionally as the hit the wooden steeps and we were sure that she wouldn't get up from that.
As we got closer to her we saw that her right arm, which now was twisted in an impossible angle, quiver at first then move as if she tried to get up before she raised her head and looked at us.
Strange, even after all this time, and everything i have seen, this is still what haunts my dreams. I guess it is because this was the first time i saw one of them, the first time i saw that dead stare and the first time i realized that nothing will ever be the same again.
When she raised her head both me and Glen took a steep back and, almost instinctively, aimed our guns at her. Her eyes were wild with an endless hunger and the area of her mouth and down was covered by fresh blood that still dripped down to the floor. I told her not to move, more out of old habits from the standard police procedure than anything, and she just sneered at us. That was when we saw where the blood came from, chunks of meat and human skin was still stuck between her teeths and when she opened her mouth blood began to pour out.
It was in that moment when Glen snapped, with a yell of pure terror he put three shoots in the womans forehead and put her down, i would later realize that i had also fired my weapon (even thought i only fired twice). When we were sure that she would not get up again we carefully made our way upstairs, weapons at the ready. What we found there was the stuff of nightmares, amidst the pieces of broken chairs and a table we found the husband, or rather what was left of him. His throat had been torn out and it was obvious that the wife had been feasting on him for quite some time before we showed up. For what it's worth, it was obvious that he hadn't gone down without an fight.
Glen and i left the house, almost like in shock, got into our car and reported in to the station what we had found. At first dispatch couldn't believe what he was hearing but then he simply said "Wait there, i send another car to your location." We knew that they didn't believe us and that we most likely would either go to jail for killing the woman or at the very least lose our jobs, but in the state we were in we didn't care.
Sure enough, after a while three police cruisers showed up and boxed us in. They had us throw out our weapons through the car window and then get down on the ground before they cuffed us and threw us into the back of one of the cars. Then they went inside... Let us just say that it gave them a whole lot to think about.
They had a forensics team come down from Stockholm to check on the couple while Glen and I had to spend a two nights in the cells of the cells in the police house. When we finally was allowed to leave, cleared of all charges of murder, it was already too late..
Damn, sorry it is time for one of my rounds. I continue this when i come back.