Not one of us has a face.

I saw a man on the subway yesterday. It was rather peculiar. He looked at me from under his hood. He looked at me without eyes and saw not my skin, nor height, nor appendages, nor any of my features. He only saw me. My soul. What if all of us were like that? Non judgmental. Not concerned about race, gender, sexuality or nationality. What if we only saw each other for who we really were? I must find a way to replicate this man. So I went back to my house and sold everything. My television, my chairs, my couch, my bed, my lights, everything. I then had my house renovated with that money, and I made a lab. My own little secret laboratory. But that was only half of the equation. I needed volunteers. So I went into the streets and found a man screaming at people in the street. He was saying that people with other skin, and race, and nationality are cretins. If people weren’t carbon copies of him then they didn’t matter. I waited, patiently of course, for him to leave. When he went to the restroom I asked him to be my test subject. He was, as I thought he would be, difficult. But difficult wouldn't do. I took a syringe out of my pocket and jabbed it into his neck, instantly incapacitating him. I struggled, but I was eventually able to stuff his body in the trunk of my automobile. Once at my laboratory I strapped him down and drugged him. He was sleeping like a baby, and I started. First I carefully removed the skin around his face. With my scalpel I drew a line around his eyes, nose, and mouth and pulled gently. Peeled like a fresh orange. I then got to work on his eyes, and his lips, and his nostrils. Before I knew it he was perfect. I sewed the skin back onto the face. I unstrapped him and propped him up in the bed. He awoke, and saw me. For me, not for bodily form. For my soul. Yes, he was a perfect example. This will do nicely for me.

[April 14th, 1995]

[Officer on scene: Timothy Hopkins]

[Recount of events: “I got some reports of a horrible smell from a couple of people on Blanch street. I approached the house and knocked on the door. No answer. I knocked again. No answer. Will return later.”]

[April 16th, 1995]

[Officer on scene: Timothy Hopkins]

[Recount of events: “More complaints from neighbors. I decided it was time to look inside. I knocked on the door. No answer. I went around the side of the house and found a large hole in the ground filled with trash bags. It smelled horrible. I checked the back and found a back door. I drew my service pistol and called for backup. I proceeded inside. Instantly upon entrance it smelled heavily of mildew and rot. I proceeded farther and came upon what I can only describe as a bloody mess. Blood everywhere, body parts on the ground, and multiple bodies propped up against chairs and beds. Their faces had no features. A man then proceeded to walk towards me with a scalpel in his hand. ‘Do you see my creations?’, he asked. I pointed my weapon at him and told him to comply. He stopped walking. ‘You pigs only see people like me as a toy. Someone to manipulate and throw away. I’ll show you, I’ll show all of you!’ He rushed at me with the scalpel. I shot him three times in the chest and he fell to the ground. At this time backup had arrived and I was able to properly clear the house. No other suspects were located. The EMT’s were able to come and pronounce him dead. Afterwards the area was declared a Haz-Mat zone. The cleaners said that they didn’t find any of the ‘faceless bodies’, although I’m sure they must be confused. I mean, what are they going to do, walk away? As if. I do wonder though, what was he doing? What was he trying to accomplish? I don’t know. Was probably just a crazy psychopath. I’m not sure.”]

[Meeting ended shortly after. No further updates on the case.]