Story 41
Carry Case
I work as a manager for an apartment building.
Well, “manager” might sound fancy, but in reality, I’m employed by a real estate company, and most of what I do is cleaning.
I’m in charge of fifteen different properties, rotating between them depending on the day of the week.
I only deal with complaints or requests when something comes up—that’s about it.
This happened last year.
One day, a complaint came in about one of the buildings I manage.
Apparently, a suitcase with a terrible smell had been left in the garbage area.
That same evening, I went to the property to check it out.
Sure enough, there it was—a carry case, sitting among the trash.
And it stank. The smell was raw and foul… that unmistakable stench of decay.
I called the real estate office to report what I’d found, and they told me,
“Before you open it, call the police—just to be safe.”
So I did.
When the police arrived, things escalated fast—before I knew it, a bomb disposal team had shown up, and the whole area turned into a huge commotion.
The residents of the building—and I—were told to evacuate for the time being.
The bomb squad was the one who’d open the suitcase.
It didn’t take them long. Whatever was inside, it wasn’t a bomb.
When they gave the all-clear, I took a look inside myself—just to see.
Inside the carry case were… fish heads.
No bodies.
Just heads, packed tightly together until the suitcase was full.
Some had been crushed, probably from being forced in from above.
It was a grotesque sight.
For a moment, I could almost feel the cloudy eyes of the fish glaring up at me. I couldn’t keep looking.
Even to my untrained eye, I could tell they were all different kinds—there were obvious goldfish in there, even some bright, colorful ones that looked like they came from a home aquarium.
The police decided it was probably just someone’s sick prank.
But even now, I can’t stop wondering—
Why?
What kind of person would do something like that?
And for what reason?
