Two teenage siblings had been reported as runaways by their mother. A week later the older one was found dead and disemboweled in a shallow grave in an abandoned lot.

It had been thought that an argument between the older sibling and the mother caused such action, taking the younger one with her in an attempt to hurt her mother.

A frantic woman was the image she showed at the police station as she begged for help and find them we did but not in the way we wanted.

Silence held the tongue of the girl when she was found in a numb like state hiding in the tall grass, not far from her sister’s body. Judging from her bruises though, it was evident that whatever horror she had experienced was enough to bring trauma.

A cctv from a gas station revealed that the sister’s had been followed. The perpetrator was soon apprehended and taken in. Upon questioning he confessed that he kept the siblings in his trailer until such time that Lizzie fought back while ordering her sister to escape.

I felt bile rise up when the man stated his reason for beating up the girls, a sick grin occupying his face.

“To tenderize the flesh.”

The next words from his mouth though were as disgusting as they were terrifying.

“But take note…”

He uttered as his eyes went back and forth between my partner and I.

“I only buried her. I never took her organs. I came back to the site the next day and she was just…empty.”

I left the interrogation room that night with my appetite dying along with my faith in humanity.

Breaking such a news like this was never easy. The father abandoned a business trip in another state and took the first plane home as soon as he was informed of his missing children.

Tired eyes of the man greeted us as we came bearing the awful truth. He scanned our faces for any hint of hope but they held none.

The couple sat on the couch as they faced us, hands clapsed together as if their lives depended on it. My partner and I shared a glance, signalling that it was time to tell them.

Anguish filled our ears then as the father crumpled on the floor, asking God why this happened.

We were prepared for this scene. The tears, the anger, and the yells. What we weren’t prepared for and will never be was what the mother softly uttered

“At least its not my favorite child.”

Whether she said that out of denial or of guilt, we didn’t stick around to find out.

Investigations revealed another suspect as new evidences were found in the crime scene, nailing a grain truth from what the man said.

It was the autopsy that gutted me though.

Reports stated that the organs were taken not long after Lizzie’s death, meaning someone had been watching and waiting for their turn.

Someone who was a human scavenger.