It was clear the body once belonged to what appeared to have been a beautiful woman, but death and reanimation had robbed her of any semblance of humanity. What lay before them was a mishmash of putrefaction and near perfect embalmment. The body was pockmarked with festering wounds that never should have been there in the first place, and subsequently would never heal. It also bore fresh wounds. Carl pointed out one such bloodless gash on the thing’s left leg where a good three to four inches of the tibia was exposed.

“That looks like an ax wound,” he remarked. “Or a machete.”

“So does this,” Badgette commented from where he stood by the thing’s head.

Curious, Carl walked over to join him, and realized the head wasn’t attached to the body. It had been severed at the neck. But when the creature had been placed on the table, the head had been strapped down to make it appear to be all together.

They weren’t prepared when the thing suddenly jerked on the table, as if trying to free itself from its restraints.