Seven-X (31 page)
Was that really me? I can’t believe I killed Rudy. How did I conveniently forget the brutality of my assault?
Dr. Haworth walked over, gloating over my defeated and shocked body.
“I’m not here to punish you Eddie. I’m here to get to the root of this problem. Would you like to do that?”
“Do I have a choice?” I asked, feeling fate seal me in like the wings of that creature who wrapped himself around me.
“You can report everything or nothing? You can leave here, or stay and get help.”
“I want to leave.”
Haworth then sat down next to me, stating coldly, “If you publish this story, all of our tapes must be included. I’ll make sure they all find a way to the police or your newspaper. Unbiased reporting is what you wished.”
“And if I don’t publish anything. I can leave, right?”
“On one condition. Turn off your camera.”
JOURNAL ENTRY:
THURSDAY DECEMBER 23, 2010 – 6:17 PM
I’m alone in the morgue in the basement of Ward B, below the Infirmary, down the hall from where I had my MRI done.
No wonder death felt so close when I was inside that machine.
Like the triangle window in my room, like the cocoon of the MRI, or the isolation of seclusion, all pointed towards a new dimension. A place beyond this present life.
And now with the pain of seeing my onslaught, I am forced to face my victim and ask myself, where his final resting place may be.
Reverend Billings escorted me here on Dr. Haworth’s instruction, to inspect the remains of Rudy Martin and Donald Lambeck.
Our conversation was laced with his usual religious analogies, none of which stuck with me enough to remember. I’m standing at a table covered with various knives, clamps and tools used to perform autopsies and embalming.
The bodies of Donald Lambeck and Rudy Martin are on gurneys, covered in blood stained sheets, set before me.
Three more unidentified bodies line the outer wall of this room, wrapped in plastic and bound with rope, lying on shelves, like they are about to be transported or buried somewhere in these remote hills, never to be discovered.
This room is cold. I can see my breath. I’m sure it’s like this to preserve the bodies, but damn! This cold moves right through me, freezing me at the bone.
My final assignment is to describe their faces, then report what I feel is the last thing they saw while remaining in their bodies, or the first thing after leaving them.
Billings told me that is usually the indicator of where they are going to spend eternity.
What was that? A knife fell off the table behind me. It scared the shit out of me.
I could never be a mortician; this is just too damn freaky. But I got to do it.
Haworth’s orders prevent me from video taping this. He said it was to protect the families of the victims, but I’ll bet it’s to protect this place and what may happen to me in here. They want no witnesses. Everyone is protecting someone or allowing them their just due for their time spent. And that has never been more obvious than now.
I’m about to unveil these corpses and complete my journey here. Reverend Billings said I may use my audio recorder to report what I see, so I never forget this.
AUDIO LOG:
THURSDAY DECEMBER 23, 2010 – 6:25 PM
RECEIVED BY MELODY SWANN.
Comments are added as needed per Eddie’s instructions.
Melody: Something slammed shut, like a freezer door. I hear footsteps. Now Eddie speaks.
“This is Eddie Hansen, Thursday December 23
rd
. I’m reporting from the inside the morgue at the Uphir Behavioral Health Center, standing between two corpses covered with blood stained, white sheets. I’m about to examine the first body belonging to Donald Lambeck. He was pronounced dead earlier this morning after allegedly committing suicide after an altercation in Ward B. I’m pulling back the sheet to identify his corpse.”
Melody: I heard Eddie pull back the sheet. He dropped something. He sounds like he’s gagging.
“Shit! That’s foul! It smells bad.”
Melody: He bumped something. I hear a wheel or something spinning. It’s moving. It’s Eddie still talking.
“That’s him, crazy Donald, if that’s even his name. Another prisoner who slipped through the system and somehow found his fate here. His eyes are still wide open. His face reminds me of Rudy’s, the night he stood over my bed. He has that look of empty terror that penetrates death. His mouth is open too. I can see the bullet hole exiting the back of his head. I’m going to lift his head to examine it.”
I hear Eddie lifting the body. Something slid across the table. Eddie is grunting, then BAM! I heard something big hit the ground hard.
“Fuck! Fuck! Donald’s arm moved. It banged off the table. I thought he was alive for a second. That was fucked up.”
“But I saw it. I saw the whole thing. When I picked up Donald’s head, I saw him killing himself. Saw him pointing the gun and pulling the trigger. Saw his brains, splatter out the back of his head. And saw the baby Kevin look on, crying. I don’t know why. I just saw this whole thing flash in my head.”
“Jesus!’
Something smashed on the floor.
“What was that? Shit! Some scissors fell off the table behind me next to those other wrapped bodies.”
“It’s weird. They fell kind of far from the table. How could they fall that far? You’d have to throw it to get over here.”
“Damn it! I just want to get this over with and get the fuck out of here. Here goes. I’m taking the sheet off Rudy.”
I hear something humming, a loud turbine sound. Something is scraping across the floor. I hear Eddie pulling off the sheet. Something hard it the ground.
“Fuck! Fuck! Holy fuck!!”
I think Eddie fell. I heard him bang something off the table and then he fell. I think.
“God damn it! They tore him apart. In pieces. His fucking body is in pieces. Ripped off him. Like some animal.”
Eddie just moved something. He’s pacing around. I hear him shuffling across the floor.
“I did not do that! I did not do that! I did not. I put him outside. He was in one piece. I saw it on the tape!”
Eddie just threw something. I heard something smash against the wall.
“What are you doing here? What did you do to him?
Eddie took some tools. I hear him moving around doing something to the body.
“His arm is missing. His guts are ripped right out. Three big scratches ripped through him from his chest down to his waist. He’s completely torn open.”
“No way, I did that. No. No. No! It’s impossible.”
“His face. It’s the same as Santiago’s, same as Donald’s. It’s all the same face, the same fucking face. They’re scared shitless about something.”
Something banged hard again! There was a loud thump!
“Holy fuck. Fuck! One of the bodies fell off the rack behind me. The one’s, the body’s in plastic.”
I hear something moving, sliding.
“What the fuck! It moved. I swear. That body just moved!”
“Something is pulling it across the floor”
“Fuck! Fuck!”
“Let me out! Somebody let me out!”
Oh my God. I hear something sliding or dragging. It’s creepy, fucked up sounding. Eddie’s running, he’s at the door. I hear him banging on the door, screaming.
“Let me out! Get me the fuck out of here!”
“HEY! Somebody let me out! “
“It’s coming for me! Jesus Christ! Let me… Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!”
That generator is getting louder. Something is scraping, banging off the floor. I hear the door open. Someone came in. I hear them.
“Eddie. Eddie? Are you okay? Eddie!”
Something hit the ground again. It’s that priest, I remember his voice.
“
Eddie! Eddie, speak to me!”
I hear growling, sounds. Animal sounds like some wild animal defending itself. It’s hissing, groaning.
“Eddie?” Can you here me? Eddie!”
That priest is doing something to Eddie. What is he doing?
“Ose if you are in him, I command you to speak. In the name of Jesus, Ose I command you to speak! “In nomine lesu praecipio tibi ut relinquat!”
Something just banged loudly! I hear a disturbing, gravelly voice…
“Consummatum est!”
It banged again hard! I hear moaning.
The tape went off. That was it. That was it.
JOURNAL ENTRY:
SATURDAY, MARCH 12, 2011 – 3:19 PM
ENTERED BY MELODY SWANN.
That was the last time I heard from Eddie. I received these tapes February 21, 2011, almost two months after his last contact with me. In accordance to his wishes, I went back to the lingual institute to have these journals translated.
Eddie’s last words were spoken in a guttural voice in Latin, “Consummatum est!” which means, “It is finished!”
Moments earlier the priest had commanded in Latin, “In The Name of Jesus, I command you to leave.”
Who or what he was talking to remains a mystery.
I traveled to Dell City in late January, when we first reported Eddie missing. I never found Uphir, nor would anyone talk about it in town. There were no hotels to stay at there and by sunset we were asked to leave by the town Sheriff.
We then made several requests to the Texas State Police to set up a rescue mission for Eddie, but nothing has materialized at the time of this publication.
A month later this last batch of tapes and journals arrived in my mailbox. They had no return address or postage. They were simply signed “ a friend.”
I am still hoping that other tapes or journals may mysteriously appear in my mailbox. Since I know, that there is more to this story.
I beseech the person known as “a friend” to come forward and tell me the truth about what happened to Eddie in Uphir.
I write this with the sincere hope that anyone with information regarding Eddie’s investigation contact me at [email protected].
Your cooperation will be kept strictly confidential.
This journal is published in memory of Eddie Hansen.
I pray someday we will see each other again.
TRANSLATIONS FROM THE RECORDINGS.
In accordance with Eddie’s wishes the following are transcriptions from the Beverly Hills Lingual Institute are provided to add clarity to these recordings and help make sense of Eddie’s story.
PAGE 16:
“Ego animo habitant quemadmodum habitarunt
hoc recording
” is Latin meaning “I will inhabit your soul as I inhabit this recording.
PAGE 30:
הנשמה
שלך
היא
שלי
Is Hebrew translated to “Your soul is mine.”
PAGE 39:
“
Avertir Hansen qui Ose est ici
” is Latin meaning “Tell Hansen that Ose is here!”
PAGE 51:
“
Egó eímai o Theós tou myaloú sas. Tha Eímai pánta mazí sas”
is Greek, which translates to, “I am the God of your mind. I will always be with you.”
PAGE 220:
“
Daemones mihi vivere. I ad eas pertinent. Et videbis credidisti! Capiam Dei solium dominabitur homines nequam,”
is Latin, which translates to, “The demons live in me. I belong to them. You shall see and believe. I will storm the throne of God and rule over wicked men.”
PAGE 224:
Deus miserere mei. Recede! Egredere de me,
is Latin, which translates to, “God have mercy on me. Depart. Get out of me.”
PAGE 225:
“Eo Consumam. Edam corporis,”
is Latin, which translates to, “I will consume him. We will eat his body.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Mike Wech is a writer, director and editor living in Los Angeles CA. Originally from Buffalo, Mike began his career in New York as an actor with appearances on
Liquid Television
,
America’s Most Wanted,
One Life To Live
and
All My Children;
as well as numerous stage plays.
Moving behind the camera Mike began work as a writer crafting television commercials and shows like VH1’s
Fairway to Heaven
. Mike worked as a writer, producer, director, editor, camera operator and in various other capacities learning his craft as he moved into feature films.