I've been a police officer for my county for almost a decade.

Over the years, I've encountered my fair share of crazy and disturbing incidents that have made me question why I ever chose this career path.

However, there's one night that still haunts me more than any other.

It was nearing the end of winter, and in the area where I'm stationed, the cold weather persists

until mid-spring.

On this particular night, I was scheduled to patrol the major highway for most of my shift.

Typically, my nights on patrol were uneventful.

I'd pull over a few speeding cars and maybe

respond to a backup call, but nothing too out of the ordinary. I was cruising along the highway,

doing my usual rounds, when it was approaching two in the morning. I passed by a car parked on the

side of the road, a site I hadn't seen earlier in my shift. Its headlights were

off, and it was positioned far on the shoulder of the highway, so I didn't notice it until I had

already driven past. Curiosity peaked, I decided to exit at the next ramp and make a full circle

back to where I had seen the car. I assumed it was just an abandoned vehicle

that I hadn't noticed earlier, so I wasn't in any hurry. Parking about 15 feet behind the car,

I left my headlights on and radioed in to report that I was investigating a presumably empty

vehicle on the southbound highway. I stepped out of my patrol car, flashlight in hand,

and approached the mysterious vehicle. My initial impression was of how old and decrepit it looked.

It appeared to be something straight out of the 90s, covered in rust, dense, and scratches.

As I moved closer and peered inside, my unease deepened. In the back seat,

there was a pile of clothes that seemed to belong to a young woman, but the way they were scattered

about didn't sit right with me. I decided to check the other side of the car, but then a faint

...