Scarefest Inn – Part 8

00:01 This is paranormal investigator John Blackwell. I’m standing just outside the Scarefest Inn in Coward, Kentucky’s Crow County. For the record, it’s December 21, and I’m meeting Detective Jerry Olson in the woods behind the hostel, and you betcha, I’m recording every second of this. Here we go… [inaudible sounds]

03:05 I’m nearing the edge of the woods, 1000 or so feet from the back side of the inn. The detective said to head north for about 400 feet, and a small clearing would open to the front side of a rustic cabin. He also noted for me to be on guard, not that he wasn’t planning to be there, but even he could be taken by surprise and wanted me to be as cautious as possible.

05:47 The woods are surprisingly dense. I should be at the cabin in a second, but I tell you, I can’t see it. Wait. Over there. [breaking branches] Holy, look at this! You’d never believe something could be so well hidden in plain sight. Amazing! By the looks of this place, it’s been here for a century, maybe more. Look at the thickness of the moss covering the roof; a perfect camouflage.

06:13 Did you see that? The curtain pulled away from the window. Someone’s inside.

06:20 [knock, knock, knock] Incredible, no one’s answering. I know you’re in there. I saw you open the curtain. Come on, open the frickin door.

6:30 [sound of deadbolts unlocking] John Blackwell? Yeah, I’m John. Who the hell are you? Detective Olson. Why’d you lock the door? Get in here, now. Hang on. [Jarred video and the sound of John stumbling over the threshold into the cabin] What the hell? I was going to enter. You didn’t have to pull me inside. I need you to turn the camera off. Not happening. I’m not going to end up missing like my partner Jessica or dead like those other people. It’s staying on, and as far as I know, you may be Jim Scaresdale. Where’s your badge?

07:14 Okay, you’ve got the detective’s badge. Why did you want me here? Did you find something of Jessica’s? Yes, her camera. [John pans left to a pile of broken plastic and fractured glass remnants] That’s Jessica’s camera? What the hell, man? I’m afraid any evidence of what happened to your business associate is long gone. [scuffling sound as John pulls his cell phone out of his pocket]

07:35 Um, let me just reply. It’s my mom. Something stupid about laundry. [John texts his other partner Justin and asks if he’s seeing this. Justin replies yes, and even better, he’s hacked into Jessica’s account and is downloading her video from the cloud.] Yeah, so sorry about that. All’s cool. So, now that her camera is destroyed, what next? I’m mean looks like the trail is cold for sure. [cell phone message alert] Crap, mom again. Sorry. [Justin texted that the video shows Jessica being brutally attacked. The video is too grainy to make out the perpetrator. Hang on. Trying new software.] Yeah, do I look like I care if my jeans are washed with my sweatshirts? Moms? I need you to turn the camera off. Sure, no problem. Let me just… [camera pans interior of the cabin and pauses on a dark patch on the wood floor.]

9:15     Is that what I think it is? [camera zooms closer] What kind of place is this? I mean, is that blood on a trap door? Have you gone down there? Is Jessica… [footsteps…the floor’s hidden door creaks open] I was waiting on you. [buzz buzz] If that’s my frickin mom again [buzz buzz] Leave it. No, man. If I don’t [rustling of fabric as John pulls his cell phone out of pocket] let me just remind her I’m working [camera moves to phone screen as John reads text- GET OUT OF THERE – THAT MAN IS ON JESSICA’S VIDEO- HE KILLED JESSICA.] Um, we should wait for reinforcements. You do have local police on their way, don’t you? The Scaresdales will be here any moment. We need to take a look before they show up. Let’s go.

11:00   Yeah, okay, but it’s really dark. I can’t see a damn thing. You go down first and see if there’s a light or something. Go, John. Go down the stairs. [buzz buzz] Don’t answer your phone. [camera pans to the detective and the gun in his hand pointing at John] Nice and easy. 

11:02   Okay, I’m at the bottom, but [the lights flick on, and the camera settings adjust] What the hell is this place? Who the hell are these people? Is that a cage? What the f….

[a woman slumps in the corner of the iron structure, mouth taped closed, her pale skin draped loosely over her frail boney frame. Tubes adhere to her arm and siphon her blood one drop at a time into an IV bag mounted to the cage’s exterior.]

11:06   Big business blood farming. Move on. All the way to the end, then take a right. [John’s camera pans to Olson. the video footage is shaky] Who the hell are these people?

11:07   Brilliant entrepreneurs, that’s who. The Scaresdales are running a multi-million-dollar business underneath this dilapidated crap of a cabin. Just frickin brilliant. I’m only glad they had dug the secret tunnel connecting the cabin to the inn’s basement before I came along. Poor bastards were undoubtedly among their first victims.

11:08   [John stops and turns the camera to face the detective.] You know all about this and haven’t turned them in? [The camera pans the room, recording another victim] Jesus, where are his eyes? Why the f*** would they take his eyes?

[A man, prone and strapped on an operating table, stares vainly in their direction. His mouth is taped shut.]

11:10   The Red Market. Organ harvesting is hot right now, and these two, Jim and Judy, well, they’ve taken marketing to a whole new level. I tell you, they’re geniuses. And a haunted inn as a cover for their nefarious activity? Sick as hell but genius. They strip down the body, harvesting each part a human can live without, you know, eyes, eggs, a kidney, blood, in a slow letting, of course, ligaments, teeth, the gallbladder. Once, they took a poor guy’s forearm and hand. Sold for a grand. I thought it would be worth more, but hey, a buck’s a buck. [The detective raises his gun and jabs it forward] Keep moving, John.

11:11   [John stumbles ahead. Checks the camera battery, then continues to record what he sees in the dimly lit horrific space.]

11:12   I’m just going to destroy your camera like I did Jessica’s, but you keep recording. It’s given you some sense of control. You don’t have any, of course. I imagine you know that too. [Olson laughs]

11:14   [buzz buzz] Keep moving. Last cell on the left. [buzz buzz] John reaches into his pocket for his phone. [The camera moves to the cellular screen and records his partner’s text: Downloading live footage from your camera. I’ve seen everything you have, John. Hang in there; cops are on their way… The phone abruptly flies from John’s hand, crashes on the floor, and the screen shatters on impact.] No more convos with mommy. Get inside. [Olson opens the cell’s door]

[John abandons his broken phone but stops to record the chest freezers lining the back wall of the long corridor. Each crudely labeled with the contents— ‘hearts,’ ‘livers,’ skulls,’ but the camera stays on the one marked ‘skin.’]

[John turns back to Olson, but no words form as the man smiles at him with perversity.] Oh, look. I’ve found your friend. What’s her name? [Olson points to the cell next to the one John is supposed to enter.]

[The camera pans to the adjacent cell. A body, suspended with wrist shackles, splays the center of the cell. The feet, pulled apart by ankle shackles, present a form like Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. Except it isn’t a man, and it no longer looks human. Red, fleshless meat comprises the body. Raw muscles, exposed by the skinning of the body, glistening in the dim light.] Jessica?

Yeah, we never, well, rarely kill em right off, and this one is a beauty with that ivory skin. I guess I should say she was a beauty. Now she’s pretty gross, don’t you think? But at ten bucks a square inch, who’s gonna say no?

[John dry heaves at the sight of his friend. Olson laughs.] Jessica, I’m so sorry. Jessica…

[The camera takes in the scene, documenting the depth of the Scaresdales and Olson’s depravity. The footage trembles with the quiver of John’s hand as the camera locks on her nearly unrecognizable face. Audible weeps. John gasps. Jessica’s eyes pop open. The camera and John drop to the floor, recording the emerging sounds of a swat team storming the floor above. The footage remains on the puddle of ooze under Jessica.]

Drop the gun, detective. NOW. You’re under arrest.

The Coward Daily, January 1

In a bizarre twist of events, Jim and Judy Scaresdale, owners of the Scarefest Inn, were arrested, along with their accomplice, Detective Jerry Olson, for numerous accounts of murder and the illegal sale of body organs in what is now known to be the largest underground market in the U.S. supplied by their serial killings.

The extent of this horrendous crime may never be fully revealed, but thanks to paranormal investigators John Blackwell, Justin Smythe, Janelle Jacobs, and her sister, Jessica, who unfortunately died during transport to Coward Central Hospital, this grotesque, malicious business has been thwarted.