Midnight Narrative - Episode 9 - "Do not Look For Me"

Episode 9: Do not look for me
00:00 - Intro
00:19  - If you’re reading this, do not look for me  

Tonight on Midnight Narrative, we descend into the fractured psyche of a man losing his grip on reality and the heavy price of an obsession that refuses to let go. We begin with a veteran detective whose final case—the disappearance of a young girl named Kayley Everson—spirals into a nightmare of impossible evidence and a ticking clock that only he can hear. As the investigation deepens, the line between the hunter and the hunted blurs, leading to a chilling discovery in the woods behind a corner store where the reflection in the footage looks far too familiar.  

Stories featured in this episode: If you’re reading this, do not look for me (u/donavin221)
https://www.reddit.com/r/scarystories/comments/1syfndn/if_youre_reading_this_do_not_look_for_me/ 

If you would like me to narrate your story, please submit to: midnightnarrative666@gmail.com

Art Credit: Instagram @unexpectedspecter
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Transcript

0:19

If you are reading this, do not look for me. Before anything else, I must be clear. I am a hundred percent mentally sound. None of what I'm about to tell you is a figment of my imagination, and I'm not going to let any of you make me believe otherwise. For twenty years I was on the force, started out just as your everyday rookie cop, and climbed the ranks to lead detective through blood, sweat, and a desire to be the best. I am not crazy. What I am, however, is a man who made a mistake, a mistake that has grown to haunt me as the weeks drag on. I should have never gone searching, I should have never let my pride stand in the way of my good sense. A mere six months before my retirement, a photograph had been brought to my desk, little Kaylee Everson, dressed to the nines for her second grade school photos. The image portrayed her perfectly, exactly how she was as a person. It's an image that, no matter how badly I want to, I'll never forget. She wore a snaggle tooth smile, and her dirty blonde hair had been curled like that of a pageant star. With a light lavender sundress to tie the look together, atop her head rested a bright red bow, making her completely picturesque. My partner, Detective John Ripley, tossed the picture down onto my desk before running a hand over where his hair had once been. We got a sad one today, champ, he sighed sarcastically. I responded with a quick ash of my fading cigarette. When are they not, Ripley? There was something different about this one though. I could feel it. I could see it painted all over Ripley's face and body language. CCTV footage picked this little girl up right outside the corner store off Carter Street. She looked to be wearing her pajamas, and I'm not the biggest expert, but the poor girl looked confused as hell as to where she was. I stared at Ripley for a moment, pondering, choosing my next words carefully. Well I finally managed. Do we have the tape with us? I'm gonna need to have a look at that of course. Ripley simply nodded before retrieving the tape from his inner suit pocket. He then popped it into my VHS player that I kept in the office for situations just like this, and together we watched the tape. I recognized what he meant by her being confused almost immediately. The way her eyes and head darted around, almost as though she was trying to piece together not only where she was, but how she got there in the first place. The video was timestamped at three hundred eighteen in the morning. That's what made this footage so chilling. No sign of who dropped her off, no sign of a parental guardian, no sign of anything. Just a little girl who just so happened to stumble clumsily into the camera's frame. At approximately three hundred twenty five, Kaylee very noticeably snapped her head behind her as though someone had been calling for her. Ever so slowly, she turned around and walked timidly toward the direction of the supposed noise. This was the last anyone had ever seen of her. Her parents were destroyed, and her elementary school even held a vigil for her, begging for her safe return. Ripley ejected the tape from the player, and the two of us sat together, brainstorming what our next move should be. To me it was obvious. We were going to pay a visit to that store off Carter Street. We rode together straight there, silent the entire time. Carter Street is in the less than desirable part of town, far from Kaylee's address, and when we arrived, we found that the place was buzzing with people, which was sure to hinder our work. However, one swift flash of the badge fixed that problem right up, and soon the parking lot fell empty. With the peace and quiet we were finally able to conduct our research. Well, we would have, if it weren't for the damn store owner pestering us every five minutes with questions that we simply didn't have answers to. Is the girl okay? How long will this take? Will you two be here tomorrow? He went on and on, so much so that Ripley and I had to politely ask to be left alone for a smoke break. Whilst we stood there, puffing on our cigarettes, something caught my eye just outside my peripheral vision. It was a color that stood out against all the others. I tossed the cigarette and stomped it before walking over to my mysterious object that had been stuffed meticulously in the store's downspout. As I neared, I felt knots form in my stomach as the object became ever so clear. I knelt down and heard Ripley gasp as I pulled a tiny red bow free from the tube. Holy hell, I thought out loud. Ripley must have been thinking the same thing, because before I knew it he was right by my side. That's not what I think it is, he added. I think it is, unfortunately. The true gut punch wasn't the bow, however. What made mine and my partner's blood turn to ice was the note that has been fastened to the bow with a clothing pin. Do not look for me. It was evident that that was not Cayley's handwriting, and this single discovery is what pushed the trajectory of my life straight toward demise. Ripley instantly phoned for backup while I analyzed the bow. Completely entranced, the next thing I knew the entire surrounding area was swarming with police presence. There had already been search teams dispatched, but those had been scattered. Some were around the elementary school, some were around her home, and some were right here with us. Now, however, every single search team had flocked to our location, and the entire property was being scouted with magnifying glasses. For hours we looked, hoping for something, anything that would point us in the right direction. Daylight drained quickly, and by the early morning hours I was the only person that remained. I made the conscious decision that I was going to go home, I needed rest. If Kaylee was alive, and if I was going to be of any help to her, I needed to be sharp. That drive home tormented me. I couldn't get her face out of my head. Couldn't wipe the scenarios from my mind. Before I knew it, I had autopiloted my way home. I glided straight to my bed and collapsed face first into a deep, dreamless sleep. I awoke at nine AM to the sound of knocking on my door. However, when I checked the people, there was no one there. Opening the door, I found that there had been a package left carefully on my welcome mat. This immediately threw up red flags because I hadn't ordered anything since last Christmas. On top of that, the packaging was completely blank, just a scuff free cardboard box that weighed less than a pound. I felt a sneaking suspicion that this has been related to my case, based on intuition, decided to take the box with me down to my office. I phoned Ripley to let him know I was on the way, and on the drive there, curiosity ate my brain, like a war prisoner who had finally found his way to a homemade dinner with his family. I had to have been followed. There was no other explanation. I racked my brain, trying to remember anything from the drive home the previous night, but all I could recall was my deep thought. I then became paranoid, paranoid at what could possibly be hidden within the package, paranoid of what possible state Kaylee could be in at this very moment, and as if listening to my thoughts like a symbiotic parasite, the box began to faintly tick. This is where my paranoia won. I could no longer risk driving to the office. I pulled my car into a desolate parking garage free of cars and people, where I then phoned in the bomb squad. I let them know about the package, the case, and filled them in on the ticking that could now be heard from the box. They instructed me to vacate the premise and await their arrival, which I obliged. Ten minutes later, the entire squad showed up, as discreetly as possible, so as to not create any public concern. I watched as the man in the armored suit approached the package slowly, surely sweating from the nerves and early autumn sun. Very carefully, the man cut the tape from the box and opened the flaps. The silence of the outside world was deafening, and I seemed to only be able to hear my own heartbeat before the man broke the silence with a quick yelp as he jumped back from the box. It's a finger, he cried out. Small one too. Looks like it came with some kind of timer. It felt as though all the oxygen from my outside had been snatched away through a vacuum in space and time. My lungs burned, and I felt my face grow beat red. The noise around me faded to static as I watched my colleague scramble to examine the box. I could do nothing but stand there. It was as though all my expertise and professionalism had been lost, and I knew deep down in my heart that so had Kaylee. The next couple hours were a blur. The package had been brought back to the station for fingerprinting and analysis while I remained in my office contemplating. The ticking of the clock on my wall drove me mad to the point where I had to remove the batteries and continue moping in silence. That poor girl that poor poor girl. So many questions were left unanswered, and our only other leads had been taken in for examination. All that remained was the videotape. Mustering up the strength out of my discouragement, I finally found it within me to watch the video one last time, just to search for something, anything that could hint as to where Kaylee had gone. I rewound the tape four separate times, scanning the grainy footage ferociously. On the fifth watch, I saw him, hidden nearly completely out of frame, behind a tree at the forest line directly behind the store, directly where Kaylee had cocked her head previously before disappearing entirely. He beckoned her over with a wave of his hand, barely visible unless he were looking with the intensity of a father who knows what it's like to lose a daughter. What haunted me the most, however, was the fact that that man was me. Same wrinkles, same greying hair, same face. I thought that my eyes deceived me. I thought my imagination was corrupting my interpretation of the grainy footage. But no. Six times I rewound the footage to the moment my face came into view, becoming more and more recognizable each time. It was unmistakable. Just at the very moment I rewound for the seventh time, Ripley came flying into the office, startling me as I raced to eject the tape. You know, knocking is still a thing people do, I announced, annoyed. Positive match for Kaylee on that finger. I've already let the parents know, and the search teams know that they are looking for a body at this point in time. It's hard to imagine what kind of game this sick fuck must be playing, but it's nothing we aren't prepared for. I rubbed my temples, feeling my mind race at a thousand miles an hour. This was a predicament that I certainly was not prepared for. On the one hand, if I did tell Ripley what I'd seen, he'd immediately believe me insane, which I am not, and have me arrested until the body was found and more evidence was discovered. I knew I didn't do this, but how could I argue my case? On the other hand, if I didn't say anything and the guys found it on their own, man there'd really be no coming back from that. Weighing my options made time seem to freeze in place. The ticking from my clock brought me back to reality, and I chose to not let on what I had seen. We're prepared for anything, John, no doubt about that. You find any fingerprints? Not a one, Ripley replied defeated. We'll find her alive or dead, eventually. I responded doubtful. But let's hope. We have all of our resources dedicated to this girl. I pray for God to align the right stars. I'm praying too, Ripley. And with that, John left me alone in my office once more, alone in silence. And with that silence came more paranoia. I was now willingly withholding critical information from a child abduction and possible murder case just to keep myself safe. The feeling devoured me. Someone was going to find out. Hell it'd probably be Ripley. He's always the one closest to me, or maybe it'd be McClintock, the head of forensic analysis. Whoever it may be, I knew it was coming. There was no running from it. Oh I'd be damned if I didn't try, though. I decided to take the tape home with me. It would be more secure that way, away from sniffing noses and prying eyes. For the next week, I called out sick. I mean near perfect attendance for twenty years straight. I'd felt I'd earned that right. During that time, I dove deep, I mean deep, deep. Day in and day out I researched Cayley. Being a mere second grader with a regular middle class family, I can't say I could find much online for the first few days. Found out who her teachers were, learned that she was born in California before her family moved down here to rural Georgia, maybe stalked a few Facebook pages. I say maybe, but the truth is that's where the next big break came, and unfortunately for the Eversons, it was more evidence I'd have to keep to myself. As I looked through the pages of Kaylee's distant relatives, a message popped up on my screen. Do not look for me. Immediately I clicked the message, and upon entering the chat an image was shared. I swear to you, I promise you, I am not crazy. I did not do this, and I am begging you all to believe that. The image revealed Kaylee, huddled in the corner of a dark concrete room. Her pajamas were tattered and torn, her hair matted and dry, but perhaps most heartbreaking of all, she looked to be holding her right hand, crying in pain as blood trickled from the stump where her finger had once been, and there, towering over her, smiling a demonic, unnatural smile directly into the camera with eyes as black as sin, was me, yet again. A new message then popped up below the image. Do not look for us, and that was it. That was the moment reality began to unravel for me. Only briefly, however, all things can be explained, and that was my outlook on this entire situation. Clicking on the account, I found that it had been entirely dedicated to Kaylee, thirty posts so far, and each of them begging for her safe return. All except for one. The post read Rest in peace, Kaylee, heaven has gained an angel, followed by some tacky emojis that I don't care to include. However, what I found interesting about this post is the fact that it had been uploaded two hours before news broke of the finger being found. That was damning, but what was I to do? Who was I to turn to when all the evidence pointed to me? I decided to take a shot in the dark. I responded to the user. And you know what I said? Where all of my training landed me? A text message that read Who is this? Fucking laughable. Shockingly, the little scene icon popped up beneath my message. I felt my heart begin to tick metronomically as I awaited the reply. Tick, talk, tick, talk. Staring at the screen, I felt only moments pass as my thoughts raced. But as if the universe were mocking me, I heard urgent knocking from my front door, checking my watch, it was now three hundred forty seven. Two fucking hours had gone by. It could not have been possible. I was not losing it. I couldn't be this late into the investigation, not with everything that was at stake. Cautiously and confused, I opened my front door to find Ripley. His face told the exact story I had been dreading, and then his words sealed the deal. Hey boss, have you seen that VHS tape? Some of the boys down at the office wanted to take a second look at it, but we can't find it anywhere. Thought I'd seen you watching it in your office, but when I checked it wasn't there. Also, why did you take those batteries out of the clock? Tell me what's going on, man. Nobody's heard from you, and we're starting to worry. I'm fine, John, and no, I haven't seen the tape. I'm pretty sure I'm contagious right now, so I'm not sure I'd want to be around me if I were you. I tried shutting the door, but John pushed it back open with force. One more thing, sorry. We found an interesting social media account. Figured you'd probably want to take a look at it. Why don't you come with me down to the office? We can get this all figured out. I don't think so, Ripley. Feeling far too ill at the moment. There was a brief but uncomfortable pause. We found some fingerprints, man. Look, I just need to come down to the office with me, okay? Please. Can you just do me this one favor? I knew exactly what this was code for, and immediately that ticking of my heart came back. Okay, John, I'll do you this favor. Let me get decent and I'll meet you in the car. Thanks, buddy. We're going to get this all figured out, I promise you. What do you think I did? Do you think I granted him this favor? The back door, it was for me. Knowing what awaited me at that office, I walked with intention. I decided that I'd stick to the woods for complete discretion. As I walked, I thought about many things Kaylee, my own daughter whom I lost, what the inside of a prison cell meant for an officer of the law such as myself. I continued well into the late hours of the night, trotting to the pace of my own beating heart. I didn't know where I was going, I didn't know what to do. Mostly all I felt the need to do was walk. I eventually found myself approaching civilization again, when the bright light post of a corner store parking lot came into view. Worried about being seen, I ducked off behind the trees as I proceeded forward. As the store came further and further into view, I noticed something that made my heart fire up with glee. Little Kaylee Everson, standing alone and looking confused. I watched her for a while, thankful that I had finally found her. I had finally done what I set out to do, and here she was, alive and well. As I called out her name, she twisted her neck around to meet my eyes, and I gestured her over with a wave of my hand. Kaylee is safe now. I've decided to keep her until I'm able to make heads or tails of who her abductor was, but until then I promise to Ripley and to anyone else reading this. Kayleigh is safe. She will return as happy as she's ever been. But for now, please do not look for me.