Swamp Thing, in LA? -7

Swamp Thing in LA

AN UnderBelly Case File

File#: 7

BY: Steve Campbell

The year has come again for the missing

CHAPTER 1
What is in there

I hope all of you reading this, whenever you are able to, are getting used to the way I write. You see, I do not include the little things. I try to get to the point. I never liked the texts or manuscripts that wander around a subject and finally drop it where most already knew it was going. So I do not wander, and I remove the stuff that does not affect the ending of each story.

So, with that being said, it's time for me to add the swamp thing of L.A. to my list of accomplishments. This one was a bit gooey, though, so there might be some wandering, so we do not step directly into what is left behind. I say that because this was not the man made from swamp mud and clippings from the south, but he, it, thing. I had to stop on one thing because it is that, a thing from the mud pits below the city, we all do not like to say is there.

You see, with the rain being little and the wind being what it is, all the droppings of our daily lives drop through the cracks into the sewage systems that run under the city of LA. That is where we will start our story this time, what is in the sewers under LA, at least what do you expect to be there?

One thing I found out when this was put on my desk was that the sewer tunnels of LA have been there in some fashion since the 1900’s, and the Main Street system was originally installed in 1885 under Main Street. Then we move to the multi-use areas, where around the Civic Center and Historic District, there are sets that were even used to move inmates and prisoners, as well as money, and later used for smuggling. So when the term “who knows what’s under the city” is used, they are being honest. There are hundreds of years of the unknown under the LA flair and hot lights of the day.

And I must say, sometimes the city might come alive in ways you never knew it could, and now we are back around to where we began.

Why am I giving you a history lesson that I am not done with yet?

You see, 1902, 1922, 1942, and 1962 have something in common. I must say, after reading my last five cases, I have put into print, I would guess you know what I am about to say. And yes, people disappearing, pets disappearing, and even a few parts left behind. And yes, I must say today is the middle of 2002, so I guess I should expect this, whatever to find me like every other creepy thing has been able to do with no trouble.

So when this story was given to me to do an in-depth piece on it, I was surprised, as if someone was really keeping track of what I was writing for this paper, and I was not just a runt that had no fans at all.

So I made a list of three things I needed to check into, and that all started with what I was writing about as a whole, not an event, so to Creepy Joe, I went into the basement of the police station, otherwise known as the morgue.

And there was Joe hanging at the desk and saying nothing to me because a crime show was on TV, and he still watched over-the-air TV, and he said commercials in 23 seconds.

And at the break, he turned to me, saying, “Karl, we have no grizzly bites or dissolving people this week, so what brings you to me part of the miracle they call living, my friend?”

So I told Joe, “You know, Joe, I am doing a story on the twenty-year murders. You see, every twenty years, there seem to be twenty murders that most never even get categorized because they are so gruesome and weird. Do you have any cases you can remember since January, like that, Joe?”

And he stood for a minute, sat again, bounced back up. Then sat and pulled out a pencil and started writing a group of names. Then next to each one, he put a strange thing, then added a necklace or nothing.

I looked at Joe and said, “OK, buddy, you have a list of the dead,” where he nodded, “then said, here are the things each one had: an item with the badge on it, whether a tattoo or a piece of paper, or in one case, a ring. But all had the same view of that thing as you do.”

And I jumped back, saying, " Where as I swooped the hat off me, I said, “Joe, you mean to tell me you noticed a sign or emblem on each one of these cases down here, and the upstairs did not care at all? What are you saying, my friend?”

And then Joe sat back after checking his watch for commercial time and said,

“Karl, when these come down here, they go as far as to say keep it low, Joe, we only have 19 or whatever to go to be done with it all. Ya, Karl, they know what you’re saying is true, and no one cares, so why should I? Here’s your name, buddy. I never saw you here. Got me?”

And then he turned back to his show, which he was so involved in. Why solve real cases when you can watch someone else do the work, and it’s done in under an hour?

So I had to do some looking, but I found a few things about each of these victims, except that they were in a specific group with another 15 future members.

So the first one on the list, Janice Johns, was 38 and had a pair of earrings with the same symbol as on my paper. She was found off the S Ave 52 overpass, and there was no sign of foul play except that she was dead from what was said to be a fall off the walkway.

However, Joe wrote in the file that two organs were missing from the body: a lung and the liver.

The second lucky participant in this nightmare road show was Daniya Docker, who was only 27. She was found with her special tattoo, which she had just had finished, of the symbol, and she was found on the hill at the Montecito Drive turn. And as the first victim appeared to die of natural causes, that is, if you consider no heart a natural cause and a few missing arteries to boot.

The third guy was someone who did not want to join in the girl gathering for sure; however, he did, and at 41, Jim Jordan found himself with a new lighter in his pocket, most definitely in a bad space, as he was also a true murder since both legs were well gone along with all the blood in his body. Found off the 110 as if he was thrown out of a moving car onto Carlota.

Now we move into the odd and strange, while the fourth victim on this list of the unlucky few to a 38-year-old, Mary Wilcot, who had a novelty necklace, even though there was no head to hold it in place.   That is correct, a headless body was found behind the bathroom next to the library on Horner Street. How do we know it was her? She had all her personal ID and money in her purse, still on her arm.

Now we come to a site of disgust for sure, and you might even want to skip this one if you are sensitive. Because Mary Jane June was not found with the ring she just got in the mail from a personal friend, who said she never sent it; however, her mom saw it when the package was opened for her 19-year-old daughter.  Why did we never see the ring, you ask? Well, because the fingers from both hands were gone with the lower arms themselves. However, the coroner’s report said the killer used a chainsaw, like the ones used for small shrubs, to cut them off as she was tied upside down and gagged. That is known because she died of massive blood loss at the site she was found, with her entire blood supply on the ground under her.

So now I have a list and a picture of the tattoo that matched all the victims and a police department that plans on letting it play out and go away until they all retire. I have to wonder if this is a planned event with the police watching. They do die every twenty years or so, but it seems like they know when to hide the cases since none of these were on the dead list we get daily at the paper.

So, my next thing was to find out if anyone at Cal State knew anything about this symbol itself in the Anthropology Department. Now it is where I can find the support I need. I started in the Mesoamerican Studies classes, and as I was walking down the hallway, I found one teacher in her office, so I walked in and asked, “Can you please help me find information on this strange dog-like thing?” And I took the picture out of my bag and showed the professor, who took it and looked at me, saying, “Sir, why do you need to know about the very old sign of the dog king?”

And I had to tell her, “The reason for me being here is that this sign was found on five bodies that had parts taken away, including even internal organs, before they were left behind, some still alive.” I paused a second and added with a small shrug, “Not exactly the kind of thing you can ignore over morning coffee.”

Upon hearing this, she was very anxious to assist me and picked up her book and found the section. As Mrs. Flangow, professor of studies of ancient language and relics, turned to me, I pushed my record button. She noticed that and gave me a quick sideways look that was half curiosity and half amusement.

“Itzcuintli, meaning ‘dog,’ is the god Mictlantecuhtli, who was the god of death and ruler over the lowest underworld associated with funerals, wakes, and remembrance. He was also associated with spiders and bats as unholy items. It has been said that when his reign was completed, we would sleep for twenty years before being known again by the gifts of usable items he would take for himself when offered through his likeness.”

I looked at her and said, “Does it say how people would kill him, Professor?” Then I gave a small smile and added, “You know… purely academic curiosity.”

She looked at me and said, “Why do you have him around someplace, and you need to kill him?” She did say that with a laugh, and I have to admit the laugh did something interesting to the room that had nothing to do with ancient gods.

However, I took out my sheet with the five deaths along with the picture of the tattoo and put it down in front of her and said, “YES. You can check those dates online. The details were in the files, however, so that will not be posted.” Then I added a little softer, “I wish this was a joke, Professor. My life would be much easier.”

After reading them, she leaned back in her chair and looked at me for a second and said, “Karl, was it? How do I know this is not a prank of some sort to the new teacher in the area, trying to pull her chain and see how far off she would go?”

I looked at this very intelligent-looking lady and said, “Madam, if this were a prank, first, I would not be a real newspaper man, I would be a guy dressed up to be one. Do I look like I am dressed to be the normal guy on the corner reporting?” I spread my arms a bit and smiled. “Second, I would not give you facts and tell you to call about them. Better yet, you can call Joe at the morgue. You can find the number easily, so you have no reason to think it is a prankster. You can ask me and have him describe me. I am only me, and I am sure there is no other. So it is your choice to stop and help or dangle in the self-made dread of being laughed at in the morning.” Then I added, “And I should warn you, I do not look nearly this good twice in one day.”

And I sat back and crossed my legs as I waited for a response. I did not know what I would be given or if it would help me, but I did not expect the response I got from the professor. It threw me for a loop when she said, “Well, Karl, it seems like you are right and the 20-year theory might not be a theory at all. I will close up and meet you outside while we drive. We can also talk about what needs to be done.”

I might have been sitting there in amazement, except the door opened and another lady came in saying, “Mili, I really need to unwind tonight, you doing any…” Then she stopped and said, “You have guests, if you could call him that. I will come back in a bit.” She gave me a look that suggested she had already made three assumptions about who I was.

When Mili, or Professor Flangow, said, “Not tonight. I will be leaving in a bit to complete something later. Maybe tomorrow, Lucienda.” Then she looked at me as the other lady walked out of the room, and I swear there was the smallest hint of a smile hiding there.

Then I sat there and said, “Should I call you Mili if we are going to partner up on this solution?” I leaned forward a bit and added, “Professor, feels like I should be wearing a tie and be behaving better.”

As she was putting her things in the drawers and closing her bag, she started, “Karl, I like the way you want to go and save people you do not even know. If more people like you existed, there would be less crime and violence in our city.” She glanced at my suit again and added with a faint grin, “Yes, you can call me Mili because I am just like you and have been doing many things to correct what was done wrong to others. It is kind of strange you happened to pick my office to walk into tonight, but it is a strange world at times.”

I did not really believe I was having this conversation with this beautiful professor after so many years of people running from me when I shared what I had to do, and being glad I did not end up in jail many times. I felt that this was someone so different, I had to step carefully so what could be would come to pass, so I said, “Mili, I have my car out back. Will you be driving with me, or will I go with you then?” Then I added with a small grin, “Just so you know, my driving record is excellent when ancient death gods are not involved.”

Mili looked at me and stopped what she was doing and said, “Karl, you have to follow me home, so then we can decide. I cannot leave my car here overnight because the rumors of me getting it on with someone would be around the school in an hour. Then I would have to start explaining what could not be, so no on both counts, Karl.” She picked up her bag and said, “Come on, you white-suited savior, let’s go.”

I was really getting tired of people describing me by what I wore and not by what I did, but I was the person who liked white suits, so I guess I have to deal with the backlash of it all. Still, the way she said it made it sound less like an insult and more like the start of something interesting.

CHAPTER 2
Partnership

When we got to her house, the garage door was open when she pulled in, and she waved me to the extra spot. As soon as I drove past the door, she lowered it back down, where I was hidden from the street. I must say that made me a bit nervous because I thought this was just a short stop to get going again. However, that was not Mili’s thought. As I got out of the car, I could see her open a door in the back of the garage that had steps going down, and I was waved that way as she walked down and out of sight. She glanced back once and said with a teasing tone, “Come on, Karl, I promise I do not bring every man I meet home and hide him in my basement.”

So I followed her down a strange pathway in this new neighborhood, where million-dollar homes were newly built. I could hear her talking ahead of me, “Karl, you know this is no normal home in the woods. This place was chosen for just one reason, and that was the ability to gain access to the old caverns that have been here long before we were even alive.” Then she added over her shoulder, “Most women show a guest the kitchen first. I guess I am a little different.”

With that statement, I did stop walking and considered going back up instead of down. If these were so old, I wondered how she found out about them, and who she really was. I was sure she was not the nice little school professor she came across as originally. Then I heard her say from what I guessed was the bottom of the stairs, “Karl, if you had a thought of going back, that door was already closed. I would suggest you come down here and do not linger in the stairway.” A moment later, she added with a little laugh, “Besides, if I planned on killing you, it would have happened upstairs where the carpets are easier to clean.”

So, since I got myself into this again, I went down the stairs and was relieved there was not a cage or other thing I was going to be placed in. It was really just a big room with shelves and hooks around the whole room, and a table in the middle to gather the gear. I said, “Mili, what are your intentions down here?” I just stood there on the other side of the table by design and not by chance when I asked that question.

She looked at me and started to get a sly smile as she said, “Karl, just because you are alone in a room forty feet below ground and there is no way out, why would you think I had another reason to bring you here?” Then she tilted her head slightly and added, “You do look like the cautious type, which is probably why you are still alive.”

I must say, it gave me the thought of just running up the stairs and praying there was some way to get out of the solid metal gate with two old locks. I might as well just sit here and get what I have coming for trusting another.

When she turned to me, she said, “Karl, are you a little bit worried about small little me and what I am going to do to the big bad news guy in the ground, are you? Well, Karl, you should not be worried about me, little white man.” Then she added with a grin, “Although if I did decide to keep you down here, I suppose I would have to feed you.”

Just then, she went to the wall behind her and slid a lever. This opened a big hole in the wall that went back into the ground. There were a bunch of lights that were switched with another old-style switch, as you saw in the old Frankenstein movies. Then she went over to the shelves, took a bunch of items, and placed them all over the pants she was wearing as if she were preparing for something. As she did, she glanced at me and said, “Do not just stand there looking handsome in that white suit. You might actually be useful tonight.”

Then she surprised me by turning to me and saying, “You know how to use any of this stuff? If you do load up, also, we have no idea what we will find in there.”

Right then, while I was walking to her shelves to look and see, since I guessed I was not being killed or even dismembered for parts, I said, “What exactly are we doing down here, Mili?”

As I found a cool knife, I put it in my pocket and a .380 cal. that I thought I could use. She said, “Karl, you know you are the one he is hunting, so since you were following me like a puppy, I thought we should have some fun with them tonight. That tunnel goes to the temples from the last civilization. You see, that was my husband’s thing before he was taken from me. No, Karl, I mean taken as in creatures came out of this doorway and dragged him off screaming.” Then, after a short pause, she added quietly, “So tonight we see if the hunter likes surprises.”

After that, I knew what I was doing here. I am the bait, since every creepy thing out there wants me badly. So after loading on clips and shells, I was off to find my host to the underground death mine. Mili watched me for a moment and said, “Careful, Karl, if something eats you down there, I will have to find another handsome reporter to replace you.”

So I went off walking down the trail of the doomed, as I called it in my head. As I was going down, the doorway was becoming smaller. However, there was never anyone in the light behind me, so I was sure she went this way. Then I came to a tee in the tunnel and knew I was going to get lost. I started looking at the ground for any sign of direction, and I noticed a drop of water that was in one of the two pathways, so I went in that direction, taking note that the paths lined up with no turning from the one I had just walked down.

I thought I could see something in front of me moving, but when I got to the location, it was only a blowing sheet on the wall. Then I realized there was no wind at all down here. I lifted the sheet to find a thing waving and hitting the cloth, so I just let it be and walked on.

Then I came to a four-point tunnel intersection where you could tell these passages were very old due to there being no lights at all, just a single burning torch in only one of them. The stone around the opening was darkened from years of smoke and heat, and the air carried that dry smell of ancient fire and damp rock. Since that was the only light I could see, it became my path forward.

I started going down that way and almost fell forward due to the large incline that was beginning to drop deeper into the earth. The floor was uneven and worn smooth in places as if something had been walking that path for a very long time. Each step felt steeper than the last, and the darkness behind me seemed to close in as the light from the intersection slowly faded. Just as I was thinking of turning around and walking back the other direction, I heard a voice.

The voice was coming from ahead of me, echoing down the stone corridor in a rhythm that reminded me of a priest speaking during a church service. The tone rose and fell in strange patterns, and the language itself was something I had never heard before. It was not Spanish, not Latin, and not anything I could place from books or the radio. The sound of it rolled through the tunnel like a chant meant to wake something that had been asleep for centuries.

As I followed the sound, I slowly stepped into a large chamber. The room opened wide compared to the narrow tunnels, and I could see at least six other passageways branching off around the walls, each heading in a different direction. Some were lit by old torches that flickered and threw long, moving shadows across the stone. Others glowed faintly with a dull light that seemed to come from the rock itself, giving the place an unnatural pale shine.

In the center of this chamber was a round ring of fire. The flames burned in a perfect circle, tall and steady, as if someone had poured oil in a careful line across the floor. Inside that ring stood Mili. She was reading from a book resting on a pedestal, her voice rising and falling in that same strange language I had heard echoing down the tunnel. The firelight flickered across her face and across the pages of the book, making the letters dance in the heat waves rising from the flames.

I moved quietly to the side of the room and took a position against the wall, making sure I was far enough away from any of the tunnel openings so nothing could come up behind me without warning. I stood there waiting, watching the strange scene unfold like something out of a late-night horror movie.

My mind started running through the possibilities. Would something crawl out of the tunnels? Would a spirit rise from the flames? Would I be staring at the Devil himself in a few seconds? Whatever it was going to be, I had the feeling once again that I had managed to walk directly into the wrong place at exactly the wrong time. That seems to be a talent of mine.

Then, from one of the darker passageways, there came a slow clapping sound. The hands that made the noise had to be very large because the echo carried through the chamber like two thick slabs of wood hitting each other. The sound was deep and heavy, not the sharp clap a person would make.

A figure stepped forward from the darkness.

Its shape moved into the light of the torches slowly, as if it enjoyed letting itself be seen piece by piece. When it spoke, the words came from a crooked mouth that did not seem built quite right for speech.

“Mili,” it said, its voice rough and deep, “I thought you said we were done with our talks and that you never wished to see me again. Yet now you read my call and force me to come before thee. For what reason? Why should I not simply strike you dead and return to the count I must reach to become whole again for another two decades?”

After those words, it noticed me standing against the wall.

I froze where I stood, realizing too late that hiding might have been a better option than standing out in the open like a painted statue.

The thing was difficult to describe in any normal way. Its body looked like flesh that had been burned and hardened, almost like meat left too long over a fire. Its skin had a dark, cracked surface that looked both dry and wet at the same time. If it ever had hair, there was none now. Its mouth hung open slightly, showing rows of black teeth, and a thick tongue rested between them like it had forgotten how to pull itself back inside.

If someone had drawn by combining parts of this nightmare creature or god, they might have ended up with something that we see in many books with the caption " DEVIL under it. 

As it moved farther into the chamber, Mili spoke again.

“Mictlantecuhtli,” she said calmly.

When the creature turned its head toward her, she added, “Do not bother that man. Does he look like someone who could slit your back open? He is nothing but a wanderer. I have no interest in watching you collect what you need tonight. However, I do have time to speak of a few people who have been troubling me. Perhaps you could relieve my mind by offering them as gifts to your collection.”

The creature turned fully toward her with a speed that did not match its size. Its voice rose with anger.

“You think I am your dog?” it snarled. “I am no one’s dog. Those who once tried that learned their mistake long ago. You do not command me. I choose the bodies and the pieces I require, just as I always have. I will not gather scraps like a servant to restore myself.”

As it spoke and moved away from me, I noticed something strange on its back.

There was a patch of skin that looked almost human. It shifted and stretched slightly as if it had been freshly attached. The edges of that patch were slowly hardening and turning into the same rough surface that covered the rest of the creature. It looked like a piece of someone else being absorbed into it.

Right then, I glanced up at Mili.

She raised a single eyebrow toward me.

It was the smallest signal possible, but I understood exactly what she meant.

I began moving slowly along the wall. Every step was careful and quiet. I drew the knife she had given me earlier. The blade caught the torchlight and flashed for a second before I turned it away from view.

When I reached the right position, the creature started turning in my direction. The patch on its back was about to disappear from sight.

That was when I moved.

I lunged forward and drove the knife across that moving section of skin.

The reaction was instant. The creature let out a sound that did not belong to any living thing I had ever heard. The cut opened like a door, and something inside began spilling out onto the floor.

What fell out looked like a pile of human remains. Pieces of flesh, bone, and organs poured from the opening like gravel dumping from the back of a truck.

At the same moment, Mili drew the strange sword she carried and began striking at other parts of the creature that were turning red and soft from the damage.

“We need to push him into the circle,” she shouted.

The creature struggled to rise again, but the damage had weakened it. Together we shoved against its body, forcing it step by step toward the burning ring of fire.

Just as we pushed it across the flames, it turned its head toward me and spoke one last strange phrase.

“You,” it said weakly, “steed… You cannot be yet.”

Then the fire closed around it as Mili poured more oil into the circle. The flames rose higher until they stood nearly four feet tall. The heat blasted across the chamber and forced us back.

Mili said, “Let’s move away toward our opening to leave.” When I just looked at her, she pointed, and I went like I was also a dog of the professor.

I could hear a weak voice now say, “Mili, my Judas, you know I will be back in just a few years, and you will be on my list. You only delayed my killing of thee.”

Then Mili turned and walked close to the fire, saying, “What you do not know is I have found the book of Samuel, and I will be able to read out of it in just a year or so. When that takes place, you will be banished back to the underworld, where you belong, to stay with your evil self, Mictlantecuhtli. So I guess we have a standoff for who will slay the other. Maybe the kindest person for the sake of the realms.”

She then came pushing me up the hallway, saying, “You know, Karl, I could learn to love someone like you, willing to help with not even a word of praise, but you would need to burn the hat. I mean, now Karl. Do you want to be my helper and sometimes lover, or are you going to keep that hat?” Her hand stayed on my shoulder a moment longer than needed, almost steering me forward while she spoke. The tunnel light flickered behind her, and the shadows moved across her face in a way that made it hard to tell if she was joking, serious, or something else entirely. There was a strange confidence in the way she said it, like she already knew what the answer should be.

I looked at her with a sense of want, and so many thoughts went through my head right then. Then I thought about my old dad going around and picking the straw all the same size and color and giving them to my mom, who joined all the parts to make my hat I still have on today, one of the only things left that my old father gave me directly. But even while that memory was there, she had stepped closer again, close enough that I could feel the heat from the fire still clinging to her clothes. She tilted her head slightly and looked up at the hat like it was some small insult she had not yet decided how to take. “You know, Karl,” she added quietly, almost teasing now, “it is only a hat. Men have given up far greater things for far less interesting women.” With that, I had to inform Mili, “The hat will stay, so I guess we will both get on our way home now.”

She did not move right away after I said that. Instead, she stared at me for a moment as if she was trying to decide whether I was serious or just playing some strange joke on her. I do believe I left Mili standing in the tunnel for a few long minutes before she ran up to me and pulled me around as she said, “Karl, you mean you will give up fun in the sack with me just for a hat as dirty as that is?” Her tone was half amused and half irritated now, like someone who was not used to hearing the word no. She reached out and brushed two fingers across the edge of the hat brim like she was inspecting it for flaws. “Look at it,” she said. “It is worn, it is dusty, and I can promise you I am far more entertaining than anything that hat has ever done for you.”

I then looked into her, what I would now call dead eyes with no glimmer or depth at all, and said, “I know where this hat has been from before it was made, you see, and you, I would have to wonder what or who you were lying with when I was not around. After what I saw, I think you have had a god in your bed more than once, the way he looked at parts unseen as you are now, Mili.” For a second, her expression did not change, but the silence that followed had a weight to it. She slowly folded her arms and leaned back against the stone wall, studying me as I had suddenly become something new to examine. “Careful, Karl,” she said after a moment, her voice softer now but far less friendly. “You might find there are many things in this world that share a bed with things far stranger than gods.”

I just walked away a second time, where this time I heard her walk, but there was no urgency in her pace as she held the last time down this scene. When I got to the gate to get out, there was no lock as I had thought I had seen before. I shook my head and walked out to the button on the wall that opened the door. As I pushed it, Mili, behind me, said, “Karl, maybe after you sample what could be, you would have a different opinion.” She said it almost lazily, like someone offering a last invitation before letting a guest leave a party too early. When I did turn to her and said, “I do not have to have what others have wanted, I do not wish to go where they have gone,” I got in my car and drove off, knowing I had a story again that could never be published as it should be.

So now here I am sitting on the side of a small country road looking at the still shining moon and adding another tale to the list I am growing under the bed. However, there is a difference here that I found another who, in her own way, was a bit like me, I guessed, except I do not open myself up to the very thing I need to remove ever. I guess we will never know why Mili was like she was, so we should just move on and forget about the year’s murders. You see, I knew the murders were all over for the first time in 200 years, not reaching 20. I gave Joe some extra advice about the rest of what was going to stop, so when everyone bet against him on that, we both made over six thousand dollars each. So in this case, I guess you could say betting on the dead came out aces for once.