I Clean Crime Scenes, Decrepit Houses, and Evicted Residences and Every House Is a Surprise

The pale sage-colored wallpaper curls down, and the white paint beneath it is chipped and cracked. I can still smell the lingering remnants of heavy cigarette smoke, years of accumulated vapor that had formed a thick smog in the apartment. There was mold in the fridge, and it was filled with containers of old, rotting food. The effluvium that spilled out of the cooler was spoiled garbage, and the stench that wafted from the freezer was putrid, past its prime. The bedroom and bathroom were no better, as the porcelain tub was stained with algae, and the toilet was clogged with old sewage mixed with clumps of toilet paper.

I made my way to the attic, where I had hoped I wouldn't find any incriminating evidence of a major crime, which had happened in the past when I had stumbled upon wrapped-up corpses. I shone my light into the back of the crawl space and saw someone curled up in the corner. I couldn't see their face, only their back, but I could tell they were muttering something under their breath.

“You can't be in here.” I kept hold of my flashlight and reached behind my back for my 9mm Ruger.

I've learned how to carry since the last house I went through a couple weeks ago, a methed out homeless person attacked me with a knife, and I had to be sent to the ER for emergency surgery. Now I was paranoid and scared, and obviously, I had every right to feel this way since now I'm facing another alien. The figure whipped around and ran at me on all fours. I jumped down the attic ladder and sprinted to the front door of the apartment. I felt breath on my back as I slammed my elbow behind me and made contact with a loud crunch.

I spun around on my heels as this maniac came at me with wild content in their eyes. I couldn't tell whether it was a male or female because of its feralness.s. I pulled out my gun and shot three times. Two in the chest and one in the head. A tactic I learned in the military. Now I was standing in a new crime scene, and I was going to be late for my next appointment. I sat outside the apartment, away from the bleeding corpse, and lit a cigarette as I waited for the cops to come after calling my boss to tell him what happened.d.

There was no doubt it was self-defense when they realized this was a 6’3 male; I, being a 5’1 female, had no chance against my opponent. I feel like this time I would have died if I didn't take action. When the police came, as I burnt the last bit of my cigarette, they arrested me and detained me in a secure location. I was sitting in an interrogation room when Detective Lopez came in and sat down in front of me.

“Would you like some water or anything to eat?”

I looked at him and shook my head. I was still in shock, it's not like I kill people often.

“Okay. Let’s start with what happened. Can you walk me through everything that occurred before you shot your weapon?” Detective Lopez pulled out a notepad and a pen and began writing.n.

I looked at the cameras around me and shivered. I was cold, and in a place I never thought I would be in my life. “I clean living spaces for a living. I clean up crime scenes at evicted houses. Today I went to work and was dealing with a major project, and as I was looking around, I went to the crawlspace above the apartment and found the man I had shot curled up in the corner and talking to himself.”

“What made you fire your weapon?” Detective Lopez looked at me with questioning eyes.

“He was on my heels and reaching for my shoulder when I spun around and shot,” I explained, trying to keep my hands from shaking under the table.

“Right now, you are charged with murder, and you will have to go to court to determine if this was justified or not. We will not be detaining you, but if you do not show up for court, you will be found guilty of all charges.” Detective Lopez wrote a few more things down before looking at me again. “I'm going to tell you the truth. The man who attacked you was homeless and had been squatting and doing drugs in the apartment for what looks like an extended period of time. I wouldn't be too worried if I were you. They will find this to be a justified homicide for sure.” The detective was trying to give me some reassurance, but the feeling that I was going to vomit really took over me suddenly as I swam in nausea.

“I need a trash can,” I explained as my mouth began to salivate and the room began to spin.

The detective got to me just in time as I lost my breakfast in the can. I was released from the police station, and my boss came to give me a ride back to my car, which was parked at the apartment complex, where forensics and police officers were still swarming and taping off the entrance to the entire living area. I went home and curled up into a ball on my bed and began to cry. This was how I started my morning. It was like any other day, but crazy things always happen to me at work. I thought about writing a book about my experiences, so I am going to record my days, and maybe something good will come of it.

After being found innocent of a justified homicide, I was able to get back to the normalcy of my life. I clocked in at the office and waited for my boss to get me the list of addresses I had to visit today. I grabbed the clipboard, ready to anxiously go to work, and set myself up in one of the company vans. The first order of the day was taking care of an old farmhouse that had been abandoned about four weeks ago by a couple who had warrants out for their arrest.

The trepidation I felt pulling up that rickety one-story cabin, I almost couldn't breathe. I looked at the broken windows and smashed up front porch, and chills ran down my spine. I got out of the van and carefully made my way to the front door, which consisted of a busted screen door swinging back and forth with the breeze and a heavy slab of wood that was too sturdy to break into.

I got the keys out and took a deep breath before entering the house. The entire residence reeked of chemicals and rotting flesh. I knew this had been the home to the infamous killer couple that was just caught and is being tried for 12 counts of first-degree murder. This was where they kept their bodies. I stepped outside, unable to take the vapors, and adjusted myself before going back inside and scoping out the place.

Walking into the farmhouse, it opened up into a small area with a short hall and two bedrooms on each of my flanks. I started with the short hall and came upon a small room under the stairs, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The busted floor creaked under the weight of my steps as I moved forward. I opened the small room under the stairs first, which was filled with totes and garbage. I shut the squeaking door and moved on to the bathroom.

It was a small room missing half its floor tiles, with a moldy bathtub, no shower, and an old, broken toilet. The porcelain sink was hacked in half, and the mirror above it was shattered. The only window in the room was boarded up with a wooden pallet. I stepped back into the hall and made it to the bedroom. Here, there was a stained mattress on the carpeted floor and boarded-up windows on two of the walls. Garbage, clothes, toys, and collectibles were stacked along a narrow walkway leading in and out of the room.

To me, this house was worth 2,000 dollars, and I needed to decide now whether to pass it up or go on to clean it up. I haven’t even made it to the kitchen or the living room yet, and the musty odor was already giving me a headache. The kitchen was a nightmare, with food covering every inch of every countertop, and maggots had taken up residence in almost all the spoiled food. I gagged and walked across the grimy tiled floor to the fridge and sink.

Inside the sink were old, moldy dishes, and inside the fridge, it was no better, as I got a gust of formaldehyde and cadavers. The windows in this room were also boarded up, so no natural light could enter. I stepped across the front threshold to enter the living room. On the walls were heads of dead animals, and on the mantle, there were taxidermied cats sitting in different positions. The carpet in here had once been beige, but now it was almost black in some areas, and the rest of the living space was filled with trash and rotting food.

I went outside, and now I had to check the barn. I slid open one of the wooden barn doors and stumbled upon a horrific sight. Hanging by a chain upside down in the middle of the room was a dead, gutted cow. Apparently, someone thought it was our job to clean this up. I dialed up my boss and waited for him to answer.

“Hey, Jeremy, listen. I will take this farmhouse if I get 5,000 dollars and a helper team.” I waited for a response.

“Jeremy, there is a rotting cow hanging from a chain in the barn, and a bunch of dead cats in the living room, looking at me with their dead, frozen eyes. I have piles of trash and old food to get out of here, too. I don't know why they don't just knock this place down and build something nicer.” I listened to see if he would take my new price.

“Jeremy, just take my deal. No one else is going to take this job, and I'm willing to do it for a fair price.” I was getting frustrated as he tried to haggle with me.

“Thank you. Thanks for sending out the one guy to help with the renovation. Really appreciate it.” I hung up the phone before he could catch on to my smart-ass tone and walked back to my van.

I slipped on my hazmat suit and face mask before grabbing a crowbar and heading back into the house to open up every window. Some of the glass fell from the frame as I lifted up the window seal, and fresh air blew past me as my saving grace. I could feel the smog leaving the house as fresh air seeped in through each open window I pried open. I went back to my van and then pulled out a roll of industrial plastic bags. There was already a huge garbage trailer out here, and it was up to me to fill it up. I started with the kitchen and began throwing everything away.

About an hour after I started cleaning, a car pulled up, and I went outside to see if it was my helper. Manny was the one who slipped out of the car and made his way up to me.

“How bad is it?” He asked, not even wanting to look around.

“It’s fucking bad. Get suited up and start helping me. We can do as much as we can today and pick up more tomorrow if we have to.” I put my mask back on and made my way back to the kitchen, where I was still throwing away garbage.

I saw Manny walk past me and down the narrow hall into the only bedroom of the cabin. He had a roll of black bags in his hand, and his earphones were going in. He had the right idea, but I was too paranoid to wear headphones. I needed to hear the world around me so nothing could take me by surprise. I turned my attention back to the rotting fridge, and with gloved hands, I continued to throw everything away.

As soon as I could see the floor and counters, it was time to bring on the suds. I went to the van and got cleaners and scrub brushes before going back into the kitchen and starting the real work. I scrubbed the counters as best I could, but there were too many bloodstains under the laminate, and I couldn't get them out. I tried to get as much rust off the sink as well, but that turned into its own challenge. I got down on my hands and knees and cleaned the tiles as best I could before moving to the refrigerator. Once that nightmare was cleaned, I moved on to help Manny in the main bedroom.

I walked in, and he had half of the trash picked up. I rummaged through the trash as I began helping Manny and found the most peculiar things. I found children’s clothes and dolls with missing heads. I found the heads that were mutilated, and within the trash, I found stuffed animals that were ripped open and clearly abused. I found notebooks filled with detailed confessions about murders that were committed in this house. The torture they put children through and the lustful desire it gave to the sadistic people who carried out the heinous acts.

I began splitting things from trash to evidence as I went on, and I told Manny to do the same. There were hidden treasures in here to find, and it was our job to scoop them out. I left Manny to vacuum the bedroom while I took the last bit of trash out to the trailer. I took a break and smoked a cigarette before heading back inside and starting in the bathroom. It wasn't as bad as some places I had been to, and I was at least thankful for that. I went to the closet under the stairs to remove the totes and take them outside for review and disposal.

Everything in this house has been searched, but it was up to us to take a fine-tooth comb and run it through the area one last time before it was put up for auction. I threw away old warrants and legal paperwork that dated back to the 1980’s, and then I began to find trinkets. Locked away in small boxes. These boxes could have been easily overlooked in this mess of trash, but it was up to me to make sure there wasn't anything valuable inside.

The first locked box that I pried open had the smallest, little wrinkled-up finger that I have ever seen, besides that of a baby. I took a deep breath through my nose to try to move on. I put the little box with evidence and opened up the next one. Inside was a small skull with a folded-up birth certificate. The certificate read the names of both the killers and the child. I couldn't help but wonder how this child died. The next little box I opened was a severed ear, which was only a few inches long. The ear was mummified and kept in almost perfect condition. Evidence pile.

Cleaning out the living room was a nightmare as we found dead cats in the litter and piles on the floor. There was shit and urine all over the place, as well as scurrying rats and other living bugs that swarm the area. There were blood-soaked rags we had to collect as well, and when all the trash was removed from the area, we took a busted spin coach to the trailer along with a stained, ripped-up recliner. Manny had to take a few breaks to throw up and drink water, while I took the time to smoke cigarettes. I keep telling myself I'm going to quit, but then I run into places like this, and I can't help but beg for a little relief.

When it came time to unchain the cow, the cow was a nightmare. It dropped onto the ground with a plop, and Manny took one arm, and I took the other, and we dragged the carcass all the way to the trash trailer and left it on the ground for someone else to dispose of it. It was almost 10pm when Manny and I wrapped things up. I drove close behind him on the way out through the back roads until we hit the interstate, and we broke off in different directions.

I got home and sprinted to the shower. I stayed under the boiling water, scrubbing myself for almost an hour before I climbed out of my tub and threw on some fresh, clean clothes. The smell of death still lingered on today’s clothes as I threw them into my washing machine first thing on arriving home. I slept in sweat with tremors, and when it was time to get up, I woke before my alarm, which was set for 5:30am. I went about my routine and prayed that today would be better than yesterday.

I drove to work and clocked in at 7:10 am, like I did every day. I made my way to my boss's office and prepared to receive my cash prize for yesterday's work. My boss tried to haggle with me before I got firm, and he gave in. I found Manny and gave him $2,500 for helping me because I knew Jeremy wasn't going to pay him for off-the-clock work. I got my list for the day and started it off with prayers on my lips and directions to follow.

Today I was cleaning out a one-room duplex in the middle of town, and I was happy to not be in bum fuck nowhere doing a crime scene job first thing in the morning. Or so I thought. Inside the duplex, the first thing one could sense was the odor of spray paint and mildew. I hadn't walked down the small hallway yet, which led to the cellar, and I wasn't ready to inspect that part of the house. I went up the stairs to the front door and unlocked it.

Inside, it opened up immediately to the living room. Its shabby carpet was stained with all sorts of things as I stepped upon it, not worrying about the mud on my boots. I scanned the open area and the area in front of me, catching a glimpse of the kitchen, a back hall, and the rest of the living room. I found out the smell of spray paint came from the pictures on the walls, which were red pentagrams and sigils I didn't recognize. There were patches of burn marks in the area where a coach would go, seared into the material, and they all lined up to form a perfect circle.

I thought maybe this could have some kids breaking and entering until I went further into the house. As I moved closer to the kitchen, I got the effluence of rotten meat and death. I opened the fridge and gagged before throwing up in the metal sink beside me. Why was I getting ripped off by my boss for these tragic places? I wasn't getting paid enough to do this. I called my boss and waited for him to answer.

“I want 1,500 for this house, Jeremey.” I huffed into the phone and shook my head.

“I'm going to tell you what’s wrong with it. There are rotting cat heads in the fridge along with containers of questionable meat. I haven’t even been past the pentagram and altar coming into the house.” I snapped a little, knowing that Jeremy was setting me up for failure.

“Thank you. When will you learn to not send me to those places so I can keep my payment as reasonable as possible?” I didn't wait for him to answer as I hung up the phone.

This place was worth way more than 1,500 dollars, but I was tired of ragging on Jeremy too hard. He didn't know what kind of house he was sending me into, either; all he got was a call and an address. It was up to me to do the rest. I kept walking through the house and made my way down the small hallway in the back of the living room. There were outside locks on the door leading into the hallway, and I immediately felt uneasy. I walked down the hallway to the bedroom, which also had locks on the outside.

Inside the bedroom was a stained-up queen-size mattress and a closet. I could see scratch marks on the hardwood floor, as if someone was being forced across the room. Maybe it was a cat. I went further into the room and looked into the closet, where I found a full altar setup that had been forgotten. On this altar, there was black sand along with dirt, clumps, and hair. It looked like, at one time, a cup was filled with blood, as I could see the staining on the inside of it. Maybe it was wine.

There were little dolls made of twine, and tiny skulls from dead animals were piled up in the middle of the red cloth. Talk about keeping skeletons in the closet. I walked out of the bedroom and went to the bathroom, which also had locks outside the door. Inside the bathroom, there were chains bolted to the floor by the bathtub, and the window was barred with an iron lattice. Other than the freaky shit, it was pretty clean. I made my way to the van and grabbed some supplies before heading up to start my work. I started with the living room.

I grabbed some fresh paint from my van and matched it to the wall's color before scrubbing off the pentagram as best I could and painting over it. I just didn't want to see it anymore. I went to the kitchen next and threw up as I emptied the fridge of dead cat heads and what looked like small animal organs. The kitchen was well-kept, aside from the nightmare in the fridge, and cleaning it was not much of a hassle. I took off the locks on the hallway door before going through it to start with the bedroom.

The first thing I did was push the mattress out the door and down the stairs. I then went through the closet where I threw away the altar and a bunch of women’s dresses. I couldn't get the bars off the windows in this room because they were melted to the wall, but I could get rough stains out of the carpet. I went into the bathroom and swept up that job before carrying on, removing more locks and trying to unbolt more windows and chains.

I sprayed the house with so much Lysol that the taste of disinfectant lathered on my tongue. Then I left and said a prayer, hoping that whatever spirits were in that house did not follow me home. I finished up the house around 12pm, and it was time for lunch. I couldn't eat lunch on most days like today because dealing with death is not something that gives me an appetite. Especially dead household pets. I cut my break short and smoked a few cigarettes before heading to my next address. The house was in a nicer-looking neighborhood, so I felt a sense of hope as I pulled into the driveway.

The house was not close to its neighbor, but you could still see your neighbor in the distance. I hated houses like this. This is where my crime scene mostly took place, where it looked like I was walking into with yellow tape covering the front door. I huffed and got out of the van, then went to the front door and opened it. Of course, the first thing to hit me was death. Decaying flesh and exploded inner intestine effluence through the entire living establishment, as I noticed most of the house so far was neatly taken care of. The fumes were coming from the back of the house. Down the hallway. In the master bedroom.

I walked to the room and prepared myself for the worst, but yet again I was taken by surprise. In front of me was a room filled with trash and old food, with minimal furniture, and only a king-size bed with a 3,000-pound man on it. The man was naked and covered in bruises with a bullet hole going through the side of his head. I don't know what happened to him, but it looks like someone got fed up with taking care of this guy. I called my boss.

“Hey Jeremy, am I supposed to be taking care of the dead body in the house?” I circled the enormous man who couldn't even get through the doorway and shook my head with awe.

“Oh. You forgot to tell me I was going to have to dispose of a body. I want 10,000 dollars for this job, Jeremy. I'm done not getting paid for my worth. It is insane that I have to deal with this.” I walked back to the doorway and leaned against it, my shirt covering my nose, my gaze upon the bulbous individual.

“Jeremy, the corpse is 3,000 pounds, I don't even know how to get it out of the building, let alone move it at all.” I couldn't believe he was still low-balling me.

“Tell you what, I will do this for 8,000 dollars, and it's going to be your best offer from anyone else.” I crossed my arms across my chest and turned out of the room, going down the hall.

“How am I supposed to take care of this?” I reached the front door after squeezing by the stained mattress and went outside to light a cigarette.

“Call a construction company and ask for a lift. Sure, I will get a crane, that's even better.” I scoffed, thinking he was kidding.

“Damn it, Jeremy, why are these my jobs? Who else do you have working for you anymore?” I was grumpy now and pacing around the front lawn puffing on my cigarette and looking at the neighboring houses.

I hung up the phone and dialed a number that I knew could help me out. “You are going to have to cut open the ceiling and remove him with a crane,” I said, spelling out what I was dealing with to Victor, who was on the other side of the call.

“It’s a 3,000-pound man. Do you have any idea how to get him out of the house?” I lit another cigarette and stopped in the middle of the lawn.

“I don't know what else is going to happen to it, but my job is to get it out of the house and leave it somewhere that the forensic team can come back later and retrieve it for autopsy. I don't know how they are going to cut through all that fat.” I blew smoke from behind my lips and started pacing again.

“Thanks, Victor. I really appreciate your help.” I hung up the phone and looked at the house, wondering what they were going to do with it once we fuck it up.

Victor, a wrecking ball and a crane, came to my rescue, and they positioned themselves outside the fat man’s room. The wrecking ball went through it, smashing open the side of the house. It went through again and almost made it far enough for the crane to reach the body. My phone rang, and I answered it.

“Yeah, I found a way to solve my dilemma. Don’t worry about me. Who are the homeowners of this house, anyway?” I questioned as I watched the demolition work.

“Oh, don't worry about that noise, I would tell the homeowners that they are going to have to move out immediately.” The crane finally came close enough to the body, and Victor was able to hook up the entire bed for hoisting out.

“Hey. Where do I put the body?” I watched as the bed was slowly being lifted out of the bedroom.

“Okay, in the front yard covered by a sheet is good enough for me. I'll expect someone to come get it soon, though. It's going to freak out the neighbors.” I hung up the phone and watched as the bed was lowered on the front lawn.

I did what I was told and actually found tarps to put over the cadaver. It took six tarps to completely cover him. We didn't bother doing anything else with the house, as a truck with a trailer pulled up, and a lift was used to place the body in the back of the truck. It was a struggle watching them take care of it as best they could during the carcass's transport. I watched as the big truck drove away with a cop car on its heels. It would have been an ambulance transporting the body, but this one was too big, and our town hadn't really dealt with a problem like this before. I didn't wait for the homeowner to arrive, but I got paid $ 3,000 to take care of the body, and some money was set aside for the cost of damage to the house. I went home that night and poured myself a glass of wine before going into my living room and turning the TV on, two bottles in my hands. I sat down on my couch and put on an action movie that I wasn't paying attention to. I've dealt with dead people before, obviously, it was my job, but to think about someone coming and beating a defenseless man and then shooting him in the head gave me a sour taste in my mouth. It was probably stomach acid coming up through my esophagus.

I ended up drinking both bottles of wine, knowing that in the morning I was going to call in because of my tremendous hangover I was going to have in the morning. Sometimes I just had to do this and drink away work. Drink just enough that it's not on my mind anymore, and sleep will come peacefully. Sleep did come peacefully to me that night, and the next day I called into work and cuddled myself on the couch with a throbbing migraine. I took some aspirin and closed my eyes, and all day I fell in and out of sleep, sometimes being disturbed by rest and others being blank.