First Report

“It was a day just like this, sticky and hot. Not quite the hot that kills people just the amount that makes every movement uncomfortable. It was on the bus right around rush hour. I was coming home after a long day of work and I was, plainly, exhausted as hell. The bus was busy but not as packed as I had seen it.

Now this guy was sitting in the back on those nice long benches in the way back. He was leaned up against the window in the corner. I sat in the seats facing the other direction. He first rubbing his face and head like he had a long day at work too.

Now, I had a tall boy I picked up from the corner store which was alleviating the heat just enough to make it bearable. I offered him a drink and he tried to slap the can out of my hand. This guy sat there huddling on the bus like the heat was going to burn his skin off and he refused my beer because it came out of a can. I mean, he looked like that kind of guy.

He had a nice suit on; some sort of custom made shit. But it was shabby as hell. His elbow was ripped up and his other arm seemed like it had a large chunk missing.

He kept rambling on about some animal biting him or some shit. I honestly have no idea what he was talking about. He barely spoke at a whisper. All I know is he was crazy as shit. He sat there mumbling and twitching. I’ve seen an overdose more than once but this was some next level shit. He sat thergrabbinging but the whole time talking up a storm so we all figured he was just on something or some shit.

Next thing I know he jumped up and ran halfway down the bus. He just stood there, jittering. No one on the bus knew what to do. We all stared at this guy like he was some sort of wizard. The driver stopped the bus and got up. He started walking towards the guy trying to talk to him, trying to calm him down. The guy didn’t respond for shit. He began making this sound like a creaky door and we all shit our pants.

Then he jumps on the closest person. It was some mid-aged woman staring bewildered at this crazy-as-shit guy. He went literally straight for the troat. Tearing into her with his teeth and both his hands. She shrieked and screamed but no one did anything. All these people just sat there gaping at this. Some didn’t even notice; they’re headphones were blaring too loud.

I jumped up, ran up and tackled this guy without even taking my pack off. I mean it felt like the right thing to do. Now I had some bolt cutters on me at the time because why not. So once this guy was on the ground I laid a lot of punches into his face. It didn’t seem to phase him at all. He kept grabbing for my throat and biting at me like some fucking piranha.

I have some good long arms so I held him with one and grabbed the first thing I touched in my backpack: the bolt cutters. I gave him a chance, tried to calm him down but he kept going at it. I had no choice; I slammed his head with the bolt cutters two or three times. I honestly don’t remember much.

Now the guy laid there motionless. I figured I had knocked him out but by this whole treatment you’re giving me I must’ve killed him. I remember shaking all over like I was tweaking or something. How could I have done that? I mean he was attacking a lady but still. Oh, she was bleeding real bad. Like I’m pretty sure she was gone long before I tackled this guy.”

The paper had sat on the desk for a long while. The title read in bold: “Witness Statement.” The woman held it in one hand while the other was kept firmly placed on the revolver that sat on her hip. She looked at the paper for under a minute. She couldn’t read it at all, but she recognized the language as English. No one in her group could read English.

She dropped it only inches from where it had lain and continued on with her search.