The Silent Witness

Chapter 1: The Job at 421 Elm

I've cleaned hundreds of crime scenes, but 421 Elm Street was different from the moment I stepped through the police tape.

The blood wasn't drying.

Three days post-murder, the arterial spray on the walls still dripped fresh when I touched it. My sponge came away crimson, but the stains remained—now forming letters:

HE KNOWS

My radio crackled with static. "You seeing this?" my partner Mitch asked from the kitchen.

The refrigerator door swung open. Inside, the victim's severed fingers spelled a name in deli meat:

LOWERY

Detective Lowery had signed our work order.

Chapter 2: The File That Shouldn't Exist

Back at the office, the victim's case file appeared on my desk.

VICTIM: Emily Ruiz, 28

CAUSE OF DEATH: Exsanguination (official)

NOTE: 6 pints blood unaccounted for

The crime scene photos showed something impossible—Emily's corpse had been found in a spotless apartment. No blood. No struggle. Just a dead woman smiling at the camera.

I flipped to the evidence log. Item #14 made my hands shake:

1 black leather apron (property of CrimeClean Inc.)

We don't wear aprons.

Chapter 3: The Vanishing Partner

Mitch didn't show up for our next job. His wife said he'd left screaming at 3 AM about "blood in the pipes."

Our van's GPS led me to an abandoned slaughterhouse. Inside, I found Mitch's coveralls—still zipped up, still standing upright. Empty.

The walls whispered as I approached the drain:

"They recycle us through the pipes."

Bending down, I saw it—a face swirling in the rust-colored water. Not Mitch's.

Detective Lowery's.

Chapter 4: The Company Secrets

CrimeClean's owner, Mr. Veles, had one rule: Never work a scene alone. Now I knew why.

The basement file room held records of every cleaner who'd quit. Their final job locations matched missing persons reports.

A VHS tape labeled "Orientation (DO NOT WATCH ALONE)" showed my predecessor demonstrating a special cleaning solution. When he sprayed it, the camera captured something his naked eye couldn't see—shadowy figures peeling victims off the walls like wet wallpaper.

The tape ended with the man screaming as his own reflection stepped out of a blood-smeared mirror.

Chapter 5: The Final Cleanup

Lowery's wife reported him missing the next morning. I got dispatched to his home.

The bathroom mirror was shattered. Shards formed an arrow pointing to the tub, where the detective's badge floated in pink water.

Then the blood came.

It oozed from the faucet, spelling words faster than I could wipe them away:

THEY NEED A NEW RECEPTIONIST

Behind me, the medicine cabinet opened on its own. Inside sat six pint jars of blood labeled with dates going back a year. The newest was still warm.

My radio crackled to life:

"Unit 12, report to 421 Elm. New incident."

I looked down at my hands. My cuticles were bleeding black ink.

Chapter 6: The New Hire

The rookie cleaner seems nice. Young. Trusting.

I watch as she scrubs furiously at the bloodstain in Lowery's kitchen—the one that keeps reforming my face.

"Almost got it!" she says cheerfully.

I adjust my new black apron and check the special solution in my spray bottle. Mr. Veles will be pleased with this one.

After all, CrimeClean always needs fresh recruits.