Flames at the End of the Street

Note: I posted this on Reddit as well, but I wanted to see what you guys thought as well 
Heres the Reddit one: https://www.reddit.com/r/nosleep/comments/nsj7id/this_story_by_a_my_patient_made_me_quit_my_job/
Enjoy :D
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First of all, I just have to say that I never really had to care too much about something like this happening. I’ve read plenty of stories online about ghosts, poltergeists, and other creepy little stories that give you goosebumps for a good 5 minutes. 
But now, I double check my doors to see if they were locked even if I knew for a fact that they were. I would always shut my blinds all the way without leaving a crack. Sometimes, I would jump at the smallest sounds. 
Other times, I would be overly-vigilant and would have serious trust issues. All this turned into paranoia, and I would go into an all out panic over practically nothing sometimes. 
Not to sound cheesy, but this was all because of one story that I came across at an unlikely place, and from an unlikely author.
I should give a little background of course. 
I’m Axel, a 20 year old university student studying nursing and medicine at UCLA and will be transferring to NYU in about a couple months. I also work part time at the LA hospital as a healthcare assistant to earn a couple of bucks, and for something to throw on my resume. 
It was just a few weeks ago when I came across a patient’s file. A patient named Sam Crossford. He had both of his legs broken and the middle of his tibia basically shattered. He had 2 ligaments torn, and 3 deep cuts in his right arm. 
Before you hear from him though, I have to let you know about some recent events.  
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Over the summer of 2020, there was a series of wildfires that set off igniting major cities for a couple of months in California. Homes and business institutes were lost and it was a wave of cold weather and continuous rain here that put out the fires. 
I know that Los Angeles and San Diego have parts that are absolutely stunning. It’s just that the recent news about this place has put a small dent in its reputation. 
About 1 month ago, a total of 75 people went missing in the San Diego and Los Angeles counties in a matter of a few days.  
However, just a week ago, there were reports from shop owners and employees at said shops that there was an odd odor coming from a possible nearby place. 
Officials searched on the 15 interstate in between Via de la Valle and Solana beach when they came across that odor the locals were smelling. It took them a bit until they realized that the smell was coming from just under a bridge. 
The space that the smell was coming from was a spot that was slightly barricaded by a short wall so that cars dont run there. It also connected the 805 interstate to the 15. 
There was apparently a 20 x 10 ft hole in the bridge.
After penetrating ground, the smell was nearly unbearable and what they saw was something that not a lot of people can handle. 
There were bodies in there. Each victim died from either malnutrition or a gunshot to the head, some of them were children. 
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When I grabbed Sam Crawford’s files to check his eligibility, I felt that the file was a lot heavier than an average file.  I opened it, and out fell about 15 pages of text that were stapled together. 
They were not patient files documented by the hospital but rather a hand-written story by the patient. 
I went back to the patient and asked permission for it to go public as the context of the story hints that it was meant originally to be released. He took one look at the pages, and excitedly said yes. I don’t know if something like this is personal to the patient, but I decided to respect his wishes and comply. 
The contents of the document are as followed:
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 	If anyone lives on the west coast of the United States or visited recently, you have probably heard of the fires in Los Angeles, California. The main suspect is a Missouri man who came and decided to commit arson. The fires spread quickly and even hit neighboring states like Arizona and Nevada. 
However, if there is one thing that I know about the fires is that the Missouri man being suspected had never caused it. 
How do I know? Well, I’m about to tell you in a moment. This is something that I never dared to tell, even my colleagues. I want them to be spared of the awful truth of what really happened. The other reason is because I know way too much. It’s just a matter of time before I am caught writing this. 
It might not be long before they find me and kill me for telling the truth. There is no other way for me to get my word out except for the slight hope that someone finds this document that I have written. 
If you manage to find this , you don’t have to believe me either. However, I do wish that you hear me out in this testimonial document.
The other reason that I’m too afraid to tell this to anyone else right now is because I was an accomplice. I had no choice, and I hope now that God will forgive me of my sins.
Anyways, I’m ranting too much already. 
I should start with telling you about the incident in San Diego. 
It was around 2 pm on a Wednesday afternoon when I got a call at the office saying that there had been a house burning down in Mira Mesa. It was in my town at the time and it took me a good 5 or so minutes to reach the burning residence. I should also say that I recognized this house because I live somewhat close by and I take daily walks past this house.
However, by the time I got there, there were 2 helicopters, 5 police cars, and some fire trucks there spewing water. I watched as the fountain of water shot higher than the houses of the neighborhood and showered the house that looked like it had been gripped by the hands of hell. Many people walked by and witnessed the horror. The report told me that there was a family with children that lived there. They were nowhere to be seen when I arrived. I assumed that they all were picked up in a police car and driven to a hotel or motel to stay while their home was being put out. 
Through the pandemonium, I looked on and saw the other cops and asked them how this happened. It sounded like a pretty stupid question as the event was so fresh and no one can really look at a scene like this and determine the cause. 
The cop said, “The kid probably did something like turn on the stove and messed up at some point.” 
That seemed like the most plausible situation. By the time it was around 4, news helicopters came and the whole thing was on ABC News live and posted on facebook as many people sent out hearts and prayers. 
I grabbed my walkie and signalled that the fire had been put out at 6, and that there should be no personnel being too close to the burnt residence except for law enforcement. 
By the time the fire was put out, there was a huge hole burned into the roof and the garage was basically gone.  I could see the tiny little bits of the house flying at us in the form of ash like cherry blossom petals when a draft comes. 
I was assigned to check the house bi-daily as an official to keep track of the repairments and to make sure no suspicious activity was to occur. 
Now, whenever I take my walk down that street, I see the streets and streets of houses, and then 1 burnt house that just looked so out of place. I myself, also kind of got attached to the building as it gave off a feeling of familiarity and had a homely aura. Now, it’s just a burnt building with tiles nearly falling off the roof and big platforms of wood covering the entrance. 
The first day that I had to check up on this house was Friday. It was especially gloomy with clouds looming over the city of San Diego. I looked at the house and the huge burned hole in what used to be the garage roof. I took a deep breath, and went through the entrance which was basically a metal fence with green fabrics over it with a locked door to which I had the keys. I walked around the residence and I saw nothing out of the ordinary. Well, almost nothing weird. There was a box sitting at the front of the house. 
This box was pretty small. It was about a little bigger the size of a mini-handbag. It was sealed with clear packing tape and there is a light crack where the box doesn’t close all the way.  The box had nothing on it either. It was just a box. I picked it up and it was pretty light as if the contents were either really small or really light. I confiscated this box and took it back to the office to try to get it to the rightful owners.  
However, when I got back at the station, the entire place was in a panic. People were walking alover the place and pacing from office to office. The director looked extra worried today. I asked around about what happened and I don’t think anyone heard me through the panic. I went straight to the director to find out what happened.
Remember that family who used to live in the burned house? They were never picked up by anyone and were now missing. 
“I thought that at least someone who got there before you had them but no one did,” the director whispered. I left the office, and I went straight to the box, and I did something that I am not very proud of. I opened the box. 
Inside of it was a bunch of tissue light green paper that covered a small orange USB. I got home that night and plugged in the usb into my computer. 
It was a video.
I hit play, and with a little bit of static, the video started. Whoever was filming was on the curb of a street. I didn’t see the sign because it was bright and it was during the day, along with the fact that the video was kind of grainy. However, the filmer turned and I saw a dim light on the left side of the screen. Instantly, the person turned to the left, and that’s when I saw it. The flame on the dry grass that was spread from the inside of the house. 
The filmer began speaking, but it wasn’t very clear. Until, he held the camera closer to his chest.
“See this burning? This must be what hell looks like,” he said. I assumed that the filmer was a male by the deep tone.
“If only the entire world looked like this, then maybe people like me wouldn’t have to do this. This place is a little too happy, and to make things even, maybe we have to bring them down a little,” he chuckled. 
The chuckle then turned into a laugh, then a belly laugh, and finally, a full villainous, maniacal laugh. 
I then realized something, there were no people getting out of the house as it was burning. Not even a sign of human life was shown in the fiery embers of the residence. There were no people in that house. 
Where is the family? Are they safe? Does the filmer have anything to do with this at all? These were all questions that I had absolutely no answers for.
The video continued as the filmer got closer to the fire, and had the camera look up and down at the flames.
“This is my work, and my duty to bring a little bit of my own hell onto this neighborhood,” he said. He began running to the next street over, and walked casually. Right then, at that moment, someone screamed, “fire!” Within the next few minutes, the fire department was there, and a little later, there were sirens. 
The video ended there.
By the end of the video, I thought that my heart was just going to fall out of my chest and into my stomach.
I was breathing quickly and in shorter intervals.
This was the arsonist, this person burned the house. He probably had the family too. I unplugged the USB, and I grabbed the box that it had come from and that’s when I realized something else. A horrifying thought came to my head, and it came as I held the box in my hands.
But there is no way that it can be……
There is no way that this is possible, it can’t, or so I thought. 
I mentioned earlier that this box had absolutely nothing on it. Which meant that this box also did not have a postmark. A postmark signals that the box was delivered by a delivery person, or a mail service. However, since there is none on this one, then that could only mean that this box was delivered in person.
When the fire occurred, the house was put out, and then barred off immediately due to possible biohazardous substances in the house. Only law enforcement personnel could get in. Which meant that the arsonist was a part of the police departments and was walking free and at large.
Since this is true, then sending in such evidence off to the police was off the table. 
The next day, I was at work, but it was hard to concentrate. You know that feeling when an event that occurs is just so significant to you that it just fills your mind every minute and at one point, you have to physically knock your head back into reality. That feeling was just so strong that no matter how many times that I smacked my own head, I could not get rid of such a thought. 
I hated it so much. At the office, I was told that I was talking to myself, slightly delirious, and I wasn’t really talking right. I even began to hallucinate a little. People had to sometimes wave their hand in my face to get my attention. Mind you, I’m only 27 and this is not really normal for people my age. 
Along with that, I noticed that I drank a lot more than usual after looking at the recycling bin in which I disposed of the alcohol bottles. Normally, it would have no more than 4 bottles in a matter of 2 months. 
However, this week alone, I downed 5 wines and a Jack Daniels. It’s probably because of that damn USB clip that I watched. The fact that I have to check up on the house every other day doesn’t help me forget about the video at all. Some of you out there may underestimate the stress that I’m in. It has been now, 3 weeks since I first watched the USB and most people would have the situation dull out in their mind a little bit by this point. 
Well, the reason that the stress grows, is the fact that this evidence can put a person in prison on 4 felony charges of arson, endangerment of life, and attempted murder, and even 4 counts kidnapping. Serving these sentences all together can potentially put a person away for life, and having this kind of knowledge and not being able to present it and turn in the evidence was beginning to really press down on me. As a police officer, this is the worst position to be in. It was all so overwhelming and no one can understand me. The delusions, hallucinations, and my mental state only got worse. Somedays, I would almost completely black out because I get sudden flashes of dizziness and nausea.
So that day, my body finally gave in, and I went to the doctors to get me checked up. I told them about my health and what has been happening. They told me to wait in the waiting room as they get a diagnosis. With every agonizing minute, I waited, it felt like the whole room was spinning, and I had episodes of dizziness again. After what felt like hours, thye came back with the results.
“Schizophrenia and vertigo,” said the doctor. Who then prescribed me pills for the ailments. As he said those words, I had felt like a defendant who just heard the judge read out the guilty verdict.
This whole thing now pushed me to the point of 2 mental illnesses, and this was just the beginning of the whole thing. Something terrible and truly sinister came to me as I parked my car and froze on the porch.
A box with nothing on it came to my door. No return address, and no postmark. I felt like I was gonna pass out as I reached for my keys and took the box inside. 
Was I seeing things? No, I realized that when I found that the box was tangible and I was able to use a box cutter to open it. There was no usb inside this one. However, what there was, was the stacks on stacks of polaroids. 
There were pictures of me pouring a glass of Jack Daniels into my glass cup and another one of me sleeping. However, there was one that really freaked me out, was the one that they took of me watching the USB video. 
Why?
The picture showed no sign of a window or a wall standing between the camera lens and me. There was no sign of the exterior of my house either.  
The photo was taken from inside the house.
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I wished I was drunk. Sadly enough, I was in reality, and sober with nothing to help me not throw up in that moment. I went into the bathroom because I can’t hold it anymore. 
I was off duty today so I went back out into the living room and found the pills for my mental disorders and was really tempted to take maybe another pill or 2 but it would be an overdose for me. 
The boxes were still sitting on the floor. 
In a bolt of panic, I locked every door, and window, and leaned on the front door to rest. I then stacked the boxes on top of each other, and headed to my bedroom to put it aside. Before doing so, I had to double check to make sure everything that can be locked as locked.
My legs and feet felt like lead, I felt as if I was just going to fall down out of nowhere on my way to each destination in the house. I finally got to my room after my little security check.
 I crashed on my bed and hid under the covers like a little kid who thinks that putting the cover over your entire body at night means safety from demons and ghosts. That’s how I spent my night.
Thank god the next morning came for me and I immediately ran out into the living room to see if anything was touched or tampered with. 
Luckily nothing was, and I felt relieved enough to take a shower knowing that I’m off work today. 
Ever since seeing the video, and then the pictures, I developed a sense of paranoia over such a short period of time.  
That’s when I saw something.
A polaroid was on the kitchen counter. 
I considered the possibility that the polaroid fell out or I simply misplaced it in my panic attack last night, but I don’t remember having any of the photos near the kitchen. 
I walked towards it with heavy steps and when I got to it, I saw that it was flipped over. I went over and flipped it back. At first it wasn’t clear what it was. However, after looking at it closer, the realization hit me like a brick to my head and I dropped the picture. I stood there frozen looking at the picture which is now sitting face up on the glass marble tile floor. 
I broke out of my trance and ran to the phone. I dialed 911, and told them in a quiet voice that I’m in danger, and that I needed help ASAP. The dispatcher told me that help would be there in 7 minutes. 
That picture, that was on the table, was taken right after I got out of the shower. However, I never heard a door shutting or any form of noise coming from any exit of the house, whether it be the front door or a window. 
The intruder was still here. 
I grabbed a handgun that I had and ran upstairs with gentle steps hoping that whoever it was didn’t hear me.
At this point, I was hiding in my bedroom with the door locked and the blinds shut. My pulse was going so fast I could feel it in my head. I broke out in a cold sweat and I felt like I was a melting popsicle on a summer day. 
I heard a bump, and I could feel my heart drop to my stomach. The thump came from the attic right above me, followed by footsteps….loud footsteps. The intruder was pacing back and forth about a couple times. 
I then heard the attic hatch slowly pop open in the upstairs guest room. The intruder walked down the metal ladder, each step with a loud clunk. He went downstairs and began walking back and forth once again before it went dead silent. 
However, after a few more seconds of this, the police arrived and I heard the familiar sound of sirens.
I left the gun on the floor and peeked through the blinds that I had shut. 
I heard the footsteps stomp hurriedly out the back door, and into the forest behind. 
Within seconds, I rushed down and opened the door for the police in which they scoured the area and ensured that the intruder was gone. 
I obviously did not go to sleep that night especially after this incident. I was just hoping that the coffee will keep me awake but that’s probably unlikely. 
The next day, I got called for a meeting in the office along with 15 other officers. We talked about the mandatory bi-annual retreat to southern LA. 
It was kind of odd for me that the head decided that the best time to take a vacation as parts of the city were burning and our job was to watch out for it.  
I asked the head and he told me that the reason we are going is because of a request by the department executive through a written note. 
It was PD owned, close, and it was a lot closer to the city where the fire is spreading so we can monitor the fires at a closer area. 
The retreat was going to be within 3 days and it would be in a 4 building, 2 story resort owned by the LAPD, and co-owned by the SDPD. Our stay would be a week and a half to observe the city. The 15 of us would be mixed in with some LAPD officers over this event as we were told that some of them will be joining us. 
When the meeting was over, I asked the head for a copy of the letter sent by the executive for everyone else so we know precisely what to do. The head complied and it was handed out to the 14 others plus me. 
I skimmed through the letter and I put it on my desk.
That’s when I noticed something. There was no return address this time. Normally, the executive would write down the return address at the top right hand of the letter. However, this time, there was nothing there, and that address was normally his mark of authenticity.
But, I know that there was a good chance that he simply forgot or decided that since he had sent so many before that it doesnt need a return address since there was already an email address to return to. Therefore, I didn’t think a lot of this.
The days leading up to the retreat were quite peaceful and normal with me packing my things, and having happy normal days on the job. However, the days come and go fast, and the short-lived grace period as I got in my car. I was told to bring nothing but my badge for identification
It was a good 2 hour drive before I got to southern LA. This specific resort had 4 buildings in a rectangle formation and I checked in at the gate. 
I was the first one there, and the first one to receive my keys, and there was a lady at a table who asked for my badge which I gave her. I’m assuming that it was for safekeeping as a badge can be easily lost and a badge is the one thing an officer needs. Along with that, I believed that the resort didn’t want random impersonators of officers walking into the resort. 
This resort was definitely a notch up from what I expected from the budget from the PD which was a dinky, over-glorified, and exaggerated motel. However it is the city, and it’s owned by the LAPD which is pretty huge and quite wealthy so the quality did make sense. 
The center of this resort had a fountain with a mermaid design. There were 2 pools that were blocked off by a gate at night, but open during the day. My room was in 205 upstairs in the 2nd building. Along with that, the room was a lot bigger than I thought, complete with a TV, queen sized bed, and a full bathroom. 
Those first few days were filled with us in our rooms, walking about, swimming, and just enjoying the vacation. 
Things, however, began to take a turn on the 4th day. 
I was changing clothes in my room after a pool day, and right before I did, there was the sound of a person yelling under me. 
I rushed down in nothing but trunks and flip flops. A newer officer named Carlton was at his door and facing a fence leading to the outside. 
“What the hell was that,” I asked. I was slightly ticked off at the fact that from my view, he was yelling at nothing. 
“Someone came in here, probably through the fence, and was watching me through the window. I’m so sorry sir,” he said. 
“Someone came in here?” I asked.
“Yeah, and it wasn’t just some officer here, most of you were at the pool except the 3 who are still upstairs.” I looked upstairs and the 3 said officers remained in their spot.
Someone broke into the resort, and was watching the officers. I later realized that such a spot was perfect as the columns that held up the buildings obstructed the view from the people in the pool. 
Carlton and I went down to report it and the managers resumed and tightened security by locking extra doors and gates. 
That night, I heard the violent shaking of metal wires and immediately got out to look. There was nothing there at the metal wire fence, but I noticed that the fence was slightly bent. This was alarming to me because when I saw the fence just several hours ago, it was perfectly straight and stood upright. 
Whatever had done this, or whoever had done this did it with force and with the intent of breaking in.
The next day, the events ensued and it began with a wave of your classic creepy calls such as breathing at the end of the phone and odd noises. It then went to letters, and notes going to certain officers that are along the lines of “look outside the gate,” and “can you see me?” At this point, the officers had enough and reported this incident to the managers as well.
However, this time, there were no managers of the resort there at the institute. Officers managed to get into the office of the admins of the place by finding a clump of keys that hung by a keychain which was oddly enough, just sitting on the front desk. 
When the officers entered the office, they reported back to us that there was not a soul in sight. Everyone had vanished from the room and what’s even more disturbing was that there were computers on, and hot coffee in cups along with papers and folders. The place looked like it was ready for operation. 
The final straw however, was a sticky note I found on my own which was on the mailbox just outside the gates which read “For Sam Crossford only, do not let anyone else see.” It said my name specifically while all of us were basically sent on an easter egg hunt trying to figure out what the hell happened. 
I took out the mail and it was a simple manila folder which I went back to my room to read. 
My heart sank as I saw what it was. 
It was a letter from the executive about the vacation. It was worded completely differently from the original, and unlike the first one had the return address on the top right corner. 
Along with that, in the letter, the address of the vacation was completely different. 
This was the real letter.
I rushed back to the room as I was instructed to not let anyone else see the document. I’ve seen enough stories of people who tried to defy the guidelines and rules that regret trying to take the easy way out and I wasn’t about to take the risk of that. 
At this rate, about half the officers gave up the search.
Now, we were just a group of 30 officers defenselessly open in an unfamiliar and sketchy place. 
I looked back and I saw that everyone but me was inside with their doors and curtains shut. The stigma around this situation has set an atmosphere unsettling and uncomfortable enough for them all to lock themselves in their rooms. 
After seeing this, I kind of gave up the search for the day myself as it was getting late and returned to my room. 
I was concerned that the management was missing and I thought of calling the police when I remembered that we were the police. I don’t know how I got to sleep that night. I probably overworked my brain and made it easier to shut off. 
However, I kind of regret going to sleep that night.
That night, I had a nightmare, and this nightmare was more vivid than the ones I used to have as a kid, or ever. 
I was standing at a house. I didn’t realize where exactly I was.
When I looked around, however, I quickly understood that judging by the surroundings and addresses, this was the house in San Diego that was burned down recently. I walked to the front of the house, and jiggled the knob. The door opened with a creak.
I was so surprised as someone would not lock the door. Even though this area wasn’t particularly affluent, robberies were still somewhat frequent. 
I stepped in out of curiosity and knowing that this was a dream, and found myself in an empty living room. 
Well, the room was empty but not silent. I heard footsteps, and the distinct sound of cloth dragging on the wooden floor. I quietly stepped over and leaned into a hallway which exposed 2 rooms. I watched as a person  dragged a body that was unconscious, and hoisted it up to what looked like a rope and put the head of the victim around the noose.
Within a few seconds, the figure tugged on the rope, and hung the body as it swung side to side like the pendulum on a grandfather clock. I ran out of there like a madman and heard the footsteps behind me. As I looked back, the kitchen burst into flames, and the murderer was nowhere in sight.
I woke up and I instantly sat up, relieved that it was morning once again and that it was simply a nightmare. The dream got me thinking for hours on end and this didn’t even feel like a vacation anymore. I felt like I was on the run. 
The management was missing, and we, the officers, have nothing on us. We don’t have a gun, or even a taser or handcuffs. All we have are numbers and brute strength gained from training. 
That’s when I decided to go down to the pool and try not to worry, but it was nearly impossible. 
I was the only one there and everyone else’s blinds were shut. Once I got out of the pool, I got dressed and crashed on the couch. Even after trying to forget it, that dream still wasn’t out of my head. 
I figured that I should keep myself busy and possibly try again and look for the staff and management. Yeah, that should be my first step. 
I knocked on Carlton’s door so that he might be there with me as backup. However, there was just silence. I didn’t want to bother him as he was probably resting and my conscience prompted me to cease knocking.
I walked down to the management office and this time, the door was unlocked. The key was not anywhere to be seen. The first thing I saw was the computers and papers on a round desk. I walked into the hallway and scanned the manila colored walls. It had certificates of employees of the month and attendance on a small desk at the end of the hallway. 
On the right side of the hallway was a storage room. I switched on the light switch, but the light didn’t turn on. However, the light from the outside was enough to light the room. I closed the door until there was just a crack of light. There were boxes upon boxes of papers and documents on shelves. However, there was one box that was left slightly open. I parted the flaps and saw that it was the officer uniforms. I saw my own, and saw the other officer’s uniforms. Then, I saw another smaller box next to it. 
Out of curiosity, I took a look inside that one as well. In it was a bunch of badges. 6 pointed badges for the SDPD, and an oval heavy badge for the LAPD shining in the sun. That’s when I saw it. 
A sense of fear dropped onto me like a heavy anchor. 
Those badges were fake, every one of them.
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