It's sort of weird, isn't it? You sitting in your office and me out here, writing on a clipboard. When I saw the flier, I thought there'd be more... interaction? I mean, you know supernatural things, right? All these LIERs. Could be the LIERs.
Hope it's the LIERs.
I'm an EMT. Emergency Medical Technician. We're the ones who show up when you dial for an emergency number. We run our ambulance out of the Hollyview Hospital over on 2nd and Green. You know the one? It's got the holly leaf at the top. I've been working there for about... three years? Give or take. It's only a part-time thing. I mean, even a Dominant can't make enough to support a Submissive on just an EMT's pay.
I've seen a lot of weird things in those three years. You get all sorts between allergic reactions to aphrodisiacs, accidents in the bedroom, just your standard shooting. The one that's really stuck out to me, though, the reason I'm here... that happened about two months ago.
Jeffrey Sharpe and I were out on a run together with our driver, Gail Rodriguez. It was toward the end of our shift when we got a call. Smiles Retirement Home. We get those every so often. Sometimes you get lucky and it's just a bad cough. Sometimes you're going to collect a dead body. This one was... different. The dispatcher said it was some sort of insect bite or sting.
My first thought was bees and anaphylaxis. If they didn't have an EpiPen on site, we'd be carrying out a dead body. So, we raced over there, got inside, and it was... usually there was someone waiting for us at the reception. That's the standard way they do it at these communities. Someone there to direct us. Luckily, we had been given an apartment number, so me and Jeff headed over there with our equipment, thinking it might be serious enough they had all hands on deck to deal with the issue. The door was open when we got to #16 and there were three people inside. One was an older man, late 70s, heavy set. He seemed fine. The second was a young woman, clearly one of the carers. And the third was out patient. At least... I think he was meant to be the patient. He was sitting on the floor scratching at a lump on the side of his neck.
I remember thinking it was all bizarre, but couldn't put my finger on why until later. They were all completely silent, not moving except for that scratching. The young woman and the heavy set man were stood there, just frozen. They didn't even look around at us when we came in. The patient didn't either, not until I was kneeling down and taking his hand. I asked him if he was having trouble breathing, if he hurt, if there was any burning. He didn't answer for the longest time, and I was getting ready to try again when he finally spoke.
"You ever been kissed a hundred times?"
That's what he said. That's all. And then he reached down and lifted up his shirt and those lumps were everywhere. There was a tattoo on his chest, too, a giant centipede. I don't know if you're familiar with the common house centipede? I wasn't. Not until that day. They're little exterminators. They'll go around killing all the other bugs in your house. Never liked them, mind. Still don't like them.
I really don't like them.
The important thing, though, is they've got venom like a bee or a wasp. Not dangerous unless you're allergic, really, but with the number of bites on the patient we were definitely bringing him in. We checked him over while we were there, got him up, took him out to ambulance and headed to the hospital. The doctors were concerned, and he just kept asking that question:
"You ever been kissed a hundred times?"
Honestly, I just tried to put it out of my head. There was a weird old man with a weird infestation of centipedes in his weird room. In his bed. All over his bed. I didn't see any while we were there. Jeff didn't, either. But there would have had to have been. That many bites? There had to have been a swarm of the things hanging around. I thought that would be the end of it.
It was three days later we got another call for the Smiles Retirement Home. It was a woman this time, mid-60s. Insect bites or stings. We got there and the reception area was empty. It was across the complex from the last one, #43, Grace Holynskyj. The scene was almost identical to the one in the old man's room. That's what struck me first. The young woman the heavy set man were there, just standing, watching this woman lying on the floor, scratching. She was in lingerie; not my first run-in with that on the older set mind, but you don't go in expecting to see it. She was covered all over in those bites, not saying a word. Not until I got a hand on her. And there it was again:
"You ever been kissed a hundred times?"
We had three more calls like that over the next month. I tried asking Jeff about it, see if he thought it was as odd as I did. He did, but he didn't want to talk about it. I don't blame him, mind. Jeff's always had a thing about creepy-crawlies.
Honestly, if that were all, I wouldn't be here. I know your advert said you were only interested in the supernatural, and if it were just some infestation of mysterious house centipedes at some random retirement home, I'd leave it at that. That's weird, but it's... fine. No one's died. Not that I know. Obviously, I haven't been keeping tabs, but we haven't got any calls to bring in a dead body, yet. But I just can't seem to shake that question out of my head.
"You ever been kissed a hundred times?"
Every time. Every time they've asked the same thing. Every time that young woman and that old man are there and it just feels wrong. Like the sort of wrong you can feel deep down in your bones. My bones.
The last one was three days ago. We treated the patient, Jeff was showing her out, but I couldn't stand it this time. I finally just... snapped, I guess? Every time I'd tried to talk to the woman or the heavy set man, they'd ignored me and, really, they're not my concern, just the patient. That's the only concern I'm meant to have. But I couldn't keep doing it. I grabbed the woman's shoulder, just to shake her a little. I wasn't try to hurt her. But as soon as I touched her, the man had his hand on me. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.
There was a centipede between his lips. I left. I left as quickly as I could and I haven't been back since. But I think you might be able to help me. You have to be able to help me. I don't know what else to do.
Bites have started appearing. Red bites like the patients. I've checked my house, top to bottom, and I can't find them. I can't find the centipedes, but I know they're there. I know because all the fruit flies are gone, all the silverfish, all the spiders. I'm not a slob, but I know what my house gets like in the summer. I know.
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#0180710 - Statement of Emmanuel Li regarding an infestation at the Smiles Retirement Home
Date: 2019-08-08 05:26 am (UTC)It's sort of weird, isn't it? You sitting in your office and me out here, writing on a clipboard. When I saw the flier, I thought there'd be more... interaction? I mean, you know supernatural things, right? All these LIERs. Could be the LIERs.
Hope it's the LIERs.
I'm an EMT. Emergency Medical Technician. We're the ones who show up when you dial for an emergency number. We run our ambulance out of the Hollyview Hospital over on 2nd and Green. You know the one? It's got the holly leaf at the top. I've been working there for about... three years? Give or take. It's only a part-time thing. I mean, even a Dominant can't make enough to support a Submissive on just an EMT's pay.
I've seen a lot of weird things in those three years. You get all sorts between allergic reactions to aphrodisiacs, accidents in the bedroom, just your standard shooting. The one that's really stuck out to me, though, the reason I'm here... that happened about two months ago.
Jeffrey Sharpe and I were out on a run together with our driver, Gail Rodriguez. It was toward the end of our shift when we got a call. Smiles Retirement Home. We get those every so often. Sometimes you get lucky and it's just a bad cough. Sometimes you're going to collect a dead body. This one was... different. The dispatcher said it was some sort of insect bite or sting.
My first thought was bees and anaphylaxis. If they didn't have an EpiPen on site, we'd be carrying out a dead body. So, we raced over there, got inside, and it was... usually there was someone waiting for us at the reception. That's the standard way they do it at these communities. Someone there to direct us. Luckily, we had been given an apartment number, so me and Jeff headed over there with our equipment, thinking it might be serious enough they had all hands on deck to deal with the issue. The door was open when we got to #16 and there were three people inside. One was an older man, late 70s, heavy set. He seemed fine. The second was a young woman, clearly one of the carers. And the third was out patient. At least... I think he was meant to be the patient. He was sitting on the floor scratching at a lump on the side of his neck.
I remember thinking it was all bizarre, but couldn't put my finger on why until later. They were all completely silent, not moving except for that scratching. The young woman and the heavy set man were stood there, just frozen. They didn't even look around at us when we came in. The patient didn't either, not until I was kneeling down and taking his hand. I asked him if he was having trouble breathing, if he hurt, if there was any burning. He didn't answer for the longest time, and I was getting ready to try again when he finally spoke.
"You ever been kissed a hundred times?"
That's what he said. That's all. And then he reached down and lifted up his shirt and those lumps were everywhere. There was a tattoo on his chest, too, a giant centipede. I don't know if you're familiar with the common house centipede? I wasn't. Not until that day. They're little exterminators. They'll go around killing all the other bugs in your house. Never liked them, mind. Still don't like them.
I really don't like them.
The important thing, though, is they've got venom like a bee or a wasp. Not dangerous unless you're allergic, really, but with the number of bites on the patient we were definitely bringing him in. We checked him over while we were there, got him up, took him out to ambulance and headed to the hospital. The doctors were concerned, and he just kept asking that question:
"You ever been kissed a hundred times?"
Honestly, I just tried to put it out of my head. There was a weird old man with a weird infestation of centipedes in his weird room. In his bed. All over his bed. I didn't see any while we were there. Jeff didn't, either. But there would have had to have been. That many bites? There had to have been a swarm of the things hanging around. I thought that would be the end of it.
It was three days later we got another call for the Smiles Retirement Home. It was a woman this time, mid-60s. Insect bites or stings. We got there and the reception area was empty. It was across the complex from the last one, #43, Grace Holynskyj. The scene was almost identical to the one in the old man's room. That's what struck me first. The young woman the heavy set man were there, just standing, watching this woman lying on the floor, scratching. She was in lingerie; not my first run-in with that on the older set mind, but you don't go in expecting to see it. She was covered all over in those bites, not saying a word. Not until I got a hand on her. And there it was again:
"You ever been kissed a hundred times?"
We had three more calls like that over the next month. I tried asking Jeff about it, see if he thought it was as odd as I did. He did, but he didn't want to talk about it. I don't blame him, mind. Jeff's always had a thing about creepy-crawlies.
Honestly, if that were all, I wouldn't be here. I know your advert said you were only interested in the supernatural, and if it were just some infestation of mysterious house centipedes at some random retirement home, I'd leave it at that. That's weird, but it's... fine. No one's died. Not that I know. Obviously, I haven't been keeping tabs, but we haven't got any calls to bring in a dead body, yet. But I just can't seem to shake that question out of my head.
"You ever been kissed a hundred times?"
Every time. Every time they've asked the same thing. Every time that young woman and that old man are there and it just feels wrong. Like the sort of wrong you can feel deep down in your bones. My bones.
The last one was three days ago. We treated the patient, Jeff was showing her out, but I couldn't stand it this time. I finally just... snapped, I guess? Every time I'd tried to talk to the woman or the heavy set man, they'd ignored me and, really, they're not my concern, just the patient. That's the only concern I'm meant to have. But I couldn't keep doing it. I grabbed the woman's shoulder, just to shake her a little. I wasn't try to hurt her. But as soon as I touched her, the man had his hand on me. He didn't say anything. He didn't have to.
There was a centipede between his lips. I left. I left as quickly as I could and I haven't been back since. But I think you might be able to help me. You have to be able to help me. I don't know what else to do.
Bites have started appearing. Red bites like the patients. I've checked my house, top to bottom, and I can't find them. I can't find the centipedes, but I know they're there. I know because all the fruit flies are gone, all the silverfish, all the spiders. I'm not a slob, but I know what my house gets like in the summer. I know.
They're somewhere. I know they are.
I've seen things moving under my skin.
They have a lot of legs.