« Full Body Chills

I Keep Finding Bloody Knives

2023-10-03 | 🔗

A story about a morning routine that’s cut short. 

Written by Ryan C. Major

You can read the original story and view the episode art at fullbodychillspodcast.com.

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Full Body Chills is an audiochuck production. 

Brought to you by FX's American Horror Stories. Four Episode Huluween Event Streaming October 26th. Only on Hulu.

This is an unofficial transcript meant for reference. Accuracy is not guaranteed.
This episode is supported by s axes american horror stories, the twisted anthology series from ryan murphy returns. Each stand alone. Episode contains a new nightmare, delving into horror, myths, legends and lore. Don't miss ethics is american horror stories for episode, hulu, clean event, streaming october, twenty six. Only on hulu this episode was produced with audio effects in full surround sound for the best experience. We kindly recommend you With headphones, Hylas nurse, I margo cyber and I have a story I want to tell you. I said about a morning routine. That's cut short, so gather round and listen,
yeah. There is no better way to describe me than ass a creature of habit. My morning, routine, is near ritual list out of bed by five. There we use the bathroom a quick shower and then by six fifteen coffee is brewing. I grabbed the newspaper off the porch, then breakfast to sunny side, eggs, a single piece of toast and half a grapefruit all on my plate, as I flipped through the news
must have decades strong and nothing has ever derailed. My morning, routine. That is until eight months ago, when I found the first blood caked knife, I was enjoying the smell of coffee, as I made my way to the front door and stepped outside the day was unseasonably warm and I remember lingering for a moment to breathe again then stooping down, I scooped up the news, but as I did, I heard a sound like metal, scraping. I, when I lifted, paper out. In a way, I sign roughly five six inches long sitting on the top step, a knife covered in dry, flaking blood immediately
panic set in who? Why, and what do I do stacked? My thoughts will even more worries piled on top had I touched the damn thing: what if my fingerprints or dna were on it, I didn't think so, but round and round I went. Of course I called the police and within ten minutes of my frantic report, three cruisers were parked in front of my tiny piece of suburbia. They combed my front yard and back and later requested to search the inside as well. I agreed without hesitation and as they marched all through my home two other officers peppered me with questions. Do you have charity camera or alarm system. No! Does the what belong to you know. Did you touch the weapon? I dont know. Maybe when I picked up a paper Have you found any other unusual items on your property, no,
and you think of any one with a grudge against you or anyone who would like to argue for any reason. No, Have you seen any one in the neighborhood lately that seem out of place? Not that I can recall the questions went on for over an hour, but after finding no other evidence to collect the interviewing officers gave me a card and said they be in touch. I was instructed to call them if a similar ins, and or anything unusual occurred, and I assured them. I would the officers departed and I attempted to get my daily routine back on track, but with little success at work. I was so preoccupied by the newspaper knife conundrum that I ended up requesting the day off. I explain the situation to my boss and they kindly agreed even telling me to take the next day off as well. So I could come back fresh. I took up their offer, but rather than recuperating are trying to move
I spent the next day and a half scouring the internet for stories of bloody knives left on porches when I couldn't find it. locally. I expanded my search until I cleared every news outlets in the entire tri state area, but still no luck. I returned to work two days later defeated, but without problem as best I could, I wrote: the bloody knife is an anomaly and while it still lingered near the front of my mind, I tried to stay focused on finally reviving my precious routine, but before I could settle in
My cell phone rang illuminated on a screen. Was the investigators number hello when I answer the phone, the officer reintroduced himself from his tone. I could tell this wasn't going to be your average check up call sure enough what he shared slammed my heart against my chest. The knife they recovered had tested positive for the presence of human blood. I had known that was a possibility, of course, but being certain brought back that same sick sense of panic. I felt the moment I found it. The officer asked if I would travel to the department and submit myself for dna collection and some additional questioning. I agree and we ended
In short, the dna collection and follow up chat were uncomfortable. I passed now. I cant remember the whole conversation, but it was clear from the get go that they were suspicious of me for what I could only guess. Though a bloody knife says a lot on its own. As the questioning intensified, I felt certain I would be cornered into making some kind of false confession. But to my relief after two hours of nonstop, hammering they told me that I could leave in a less than friendly manner the regional investigator reminded me that they would be in touch the next few weeks for a rough. My weight dropped rapidly. I could hardly sleep at night Workplace performance had slipped to a point where my manager express concern. she was kind and understanding but
clear. If I couldn't regain my focus, my position, could be in jeopardy. She set out take a two week leave to get things back on track. This time it wasn't a request. Minutes. After our meeting myself on Rang gatt hello, I answered and was met with the investigators voice. He informed me that, after a hurried dna test, the blood on the knife matched no known victim that they could assess. I was confused but more relieved than meeting in some way? It felt like a glimmer of hope like I could finally put this matter behind. me as a simple, maybe innocent, prank. That night I fell asleep. Feeling more at ease than I have felt weeks.
When my work leave ended. I returned with a new sense of stability. There were no more calls from the police and no more late nights worrying over the following months. My return to normal. My mental health was blue, sadly healing, and I felt like my reasonably optimistic self again. It had never occurred to me before how normal and satisfying where life had always been. This speed bomb had made me grateful for all the little things I had going in my favor and then, I found the second life it had maybe been six or seven weeks since it all began. But just before scooped up the morning paper heard the terrible sound of metal on brick
and felt my heart sank into that familiar pet. The new knife was a bit smaller, maybe four inches, but like the last one, it was covered in dry blood instinctively. I finished my cell phone out of my pocket, but my hand froze over nine one. One under that I'd like to admit I considered just picking up the knife and throwing it in the garbage? Last time I suffered this ordeal. I kept only a thin grasp on my sanity. How could it be I simply go any better. This time. I hurried into the kid and grabbed a plastic bag with intent to back the knife and dispose of it. But I stopped myself. Tears began to well up in my eyes, and I retrieved my phone again and dial the police. This time I called the investigator directly he picked up and threw my sobs. I managed to explain what I
found. It would be an exercise in redundancy to explain the second process, as it was nearly identical to the first. There was the search, the questions, the dna test, follow up questions and even the failure to find a dna match. The only difference here where the undercover surveillance units placed on my street to nondescript sudan's were parked at either end of my block with hidden cameras installed. This comforted me as I felt. Perhaps they thought someone else was doing this as an extra precaution, I went to the local big box hardware store and purchased a home safety system with door. Arms
cameras with a hefty subscription fee. I opted to have all of the surveillance film archives via cloud access. I spent the remainder of the day installing the sensors and cameras, as well as adjusting the angles to cover all sides of my home, pulling up the new security up on my phone. I was satisfied that no one could get on my property without being seen this time. My life didn't fallen to pieces however, I was obsessive with the surveillance cameras became my new routine every night to watch the front door for at least thirty minutes before heading off to bed. But after two months of no active nobody knives and no mistake. stranger the two police vehicles on either end of my street removed? Four days later, the third
bloody knife appeared just like the others. There was tucked directly under the newspaper, My new found paranoia had altered my routine grasping each end of the plastic bag and lifting no metal on brick this time, but there sat the night The blood was mostly dry, but there were a few spots that hadn't quite hardened into the rested color had become accustomed to. It must have been used maurice.
gently without a second thought. I ran inside and logged onto the surveillance, app security solutions scanning through the video I tapped, download bar to try and find when the knife had been planted. I continue tapping through the video landing at four. Thirty am suddenly the screen went static. I hit the rewind button until a few of my porch came back and let it play as the grainy nighttime video played. I could see that it was for eighteen am Nothing is moving. There was no knife on the brick steps. I scoured my phone screen looking for something unusual when a sudden movement caught my eye, a man,
or maybe a woman emerged from between the privacy, hedges and my neighbors yard. They walked slowly and smoothly across the street, travel that my walkway and stopped at the foot of my porch. I couldn't see their face as they were only staring at the steps, but the figure war heavy work boots carpenter pay and and a dark, hooded sweatshirt. Yet, even with the hoodie I could tell they were almost skeleton, then they stood frozen like an arrow tree, but after a few still moments a gloved hand slip out of the sweatshirt and produced the knife figure and placed the boy gently beneath a newspaper and lifted its head toward the cat
I couldn't see their entire face packages barely make out a thin wide smile, it's hard for me to explain, but strangely it was all. Too wide like the scan around the mouth was ready to tear the figure, stood up, maintaining eye contact with the camera and blue. kiss in its direction? Then they turned and disappeared back into the hedges across the street pulse raising, I too rewind tape and watch it again now it was nothing static. I kept winding further back, but all of the footage everything was gone
what I called the apps tech support and they reported that no footage from that date had even been uploaded. I had no evidence. This can be happening after a half hour of pacing, I still hadn't called the police. The last time I did I was almost painful. Murder, how could I be sure they wouldn't try it again everything about my story was just too convenient to impossible to believe I'd seen the damn video myself and even I had doubts at least I'm pretty sure I saw it. I couldn't have imagined it could I I I did not to call the police with a thundering. Hardly put on a pair of gloves were true, The mai from the front porch and rolled into the newspaper carried it inside. If I wasn't
the dispose of the knife, and if I wasn't going to hand it over to the police- and my only option was to hide it in my basement. There are holes in the center block walls that led to an inaccessible cross space they were holds that were easy to miss holes were something could be lost and forgotten and never found again so and one of these holes I did tonight clang of the knife, ass, it fell out of sight, was an immediate relief had almost felt like I could move on, and for a few weeks I do. I went about my life, pretending as though none had happened. I restored my morning routine. I went to work. I came home I reminded myself that this was a better alternative than being framed for a crime. I never did, but only two weeks after the last knife appeared a new one took its place this time
I didn't hesitate with a newspaper fag still in my hands, scooped up the knife and brought it inside into the cross base, went knife number four, just like knife number, five, four days after that I tried replacing the security system and then I tried again but knife after knife, there's been nothing but static nothing but an eerie stranger who disappears from the footage as soon as I try to catch them. I've lost track at this point of how many knives I've hidden in my crawlspace space, every consider calling the police but as the pile grows bigger. So do my doubts with less than any proof to my side of things and stash of bloody evidence concealed within my house. There's only one way biscuit,
and I've given up trying to catch this knife teaching psycho the security cameras, don't work at all anymore, I'm sure, as hell not going to wait by my door for some terrible thin smile to come. Knocking my mental and physical well being is kinda shit. I've lost so much weight that my ribs are poking out. My body hurts constantly and it feels like my skin is shrinking freezing off time, I'm almost always wrapped up in a hoodie blanket and sleep. What is sleep anywhere still, no matter how many I get rid of how hard I try? Those tat knives keep showing up.
Actually my cross species going to run out of room. What am I supposed to do that? Maybe I should just pick them up and ditch them somewhere else. Another town, maybe another state I feel like. I could just put them on someone else's porch during the night and maybe I can make a routine of and then somehow I feel like this would make me feel better. The thought even makes me smile full body jails, audio check production. This episode was written by ryan c major and read by Margo Cyprus,
story- was modified slightly for audio retelling, but you can find the original info on our website. So what do you think chap do you approve
Transcript generated on 2023-10-05.