Statement of Daniel Reed, regarding an encounter in an unknown rest stop, Original statement given June 22nd 2011. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

Statement begins.

Archivist (Statement)

I'm not crazy, I need to make that perfectly clear. I've never hallucinated, I don't do drugs, and I like to consider myself a pretty chill guy. I've never been one to settle down. I grew up in a military family that was always moving, and I guess I got used to it.

So when I saw an ad for a cargo driver in a major trucking company, I figured why not? And soon I found myself newly employed. The jobs are okay, good pay but long hours and not a lot of sleep. I've gotten used to it though, been at this for about three years now and still going strong. Or, I was. 

A few months ago I was driving some cargo from New York to Seattle, I didn't know what the cargo was, but I didn't really care. The drive was lengthy, and while some states were pretty, trees and hills only amuse you for so long. By three am on the fifth night, I was feeling ready to be done with the job. Unfortunately, that's not how these kinds of things work, so I figured coffee was my next best choice. 

I pulled off the road and into a rest stop. It didn't have a company name or logo up at all, but that didn't really strike me as odd at the time. I pulled in next to it, and hopped out of my truck to take a better look. 

It was shabby and sketchy, but what isn't at 3 am on a Thursday? So, I went inside. 

The lights were so fluorescent it took a second for me to be able to see properly, but when my eyes cleared the place was dimly lit. The lights flickered a little, and everything had a layer of dust and dirt coating it. Still, I made my way over to the coffee machine.

It, too, had no branding or logos on it, just a black coffee machine. Looking back, I don't think it was plugged in at all, but that didn't stop it from working. It poured thick, warm sludge into my cup that steam floated from. If it hadn't smelled so good, the odd texture would have bothered me more. I guess your standards drop at 3 Am. It was only then, standing at the coffee machine, waiting for my cup to fill did I look up and at the walls. Taxidermy covered the place.

Deer heads, squirrels on stands, fox and leopard skins with only the heads stuffed. all with the same glassy eyes. The eyes seemed to follow me whenever I moved, even if it was just to put a lid on the warm cup. How had I not noticed this? The stench of something dead and foul filled my nose. I gagged.

 Slowly, I grabbed my coffee and headed to the cash register, eager to leave as soon as possible. The man who stood in front of me was scrawny, weak, with skin loose as though he was old, but his face was young. His eyes were glazed over, and it took a moment to notice the cane he held onto for dear life at his side. 

He's blind. It wasn't a big realization,  in fact it wouldn't have mattered at all. But I had the oddest feeling he could see me, not just from his eyes but from all around. I plopped my coffee down in front of him and promised myself I'd throw it out the second I left.

“That's all?” His voice was flat, hollow in a way I'd never heard a person be before. I became acutely aware of the feeling that the coffee couldn't be all, not if I wanted to leave. I grabbed one of the small taxidermy mice, hung on a chain so it could be used as a rear view mirror decoration. I plopped it down next to the cup.

He nodded ever so slowly, and rang me up. I didn't look at the number on the cash register, I didn't care, I just handed over a stack of cash and left. He didn't look after me as I went, but somehow I knew he saw me leave.

I still felt like I was being watched as I got into my truck and drove off, coffee left behind on the ground where my truck had been. I hung the rat on my dashboard, I'd had no were else to put it. Its been a few months since I put that glassy eyed rodent up there, and I can't bring myself to take the filthy thing down. The thing is, it's watching me. The glassy eyes follow me, its limp body swinging back and forth with the motion of my truck. It has begun to give off a foul smell, I can hardly stand it sometimes.

The worst part? My vision is begging to go. It started with needing glasses on a low prescription, but it keeps getting worse. My doctor says it's just a normal part of aging, but what she can't explain is the slow glossy cast begging to settle over my left eye, or why I barely need to blink anymore. 

Statement ends.

(Archivist)

We've followed-up over the last couple of days, have found no evidence to credit Mr. Reeds account of his experience. I was initially inclined to re-file this statement in the ‘Discredited’ section of the Archive, where it seems most of these statements belong. The only follow up we could manage was finding that yes, a Mr reeds did work for the trucking company ‘mile long’ from 2009 to 2011.

We would follow up with Mr.Reeds, but a few months after his statement it appears he disappeared. His truck was found empty on the side of the highway, after he'd failed to reach his destination on a drive and the company had gone looking for him. The truck had been carrying cargo of taxidermied animals to the institute of hunting history, in Ohio Cleveland. 

The truck was found full of its cargo, with Mr.Reeds described “Taxidermied rat” still hanging from the dashboard. Its perfectly logical to assume that he simply quit and didn't tell anyone, or that maybe he was abducted by non paranormal means. 

One thing does still bother me though. The report of his disappearance comes with a picture of the scene, specifically the back of his truck and its cargo. After looking closely, and adjusting the lighting on the photo, it's become apparent that all of the animals were missing their eyes. 

 End recording.