Hunted by the Moon

The Mystery of Jonathan Swatch

✰Caitlin✰

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and river water as I stood over the body of Jonathan Swatch. It was strange how the scent seemed to cling to his skin. That and the smell of death. He was stretched out on the cold metal table, the harsh fluorescent lights of the medical examiner’s lab cast an unnatural glow over his pale skin.

"No bruising, no cuts, no broken bones. Nothing to suggest a struggle," Dr. Howard, the medical examiner, said as he gestured toward the body with his gloved hand. "I ran every test I could think of, but so far, nothing explains how this young man died," I crossed my arms, as frustration bubbled just beneath the surface.

"So, what? He just dropped dead for no reason?" I questioned. Stanley stood beside me, as he scribbled notes in his worn leather notebook.

"There’s always a reason," he muttered. Dr. Howard exhaled and removed his gloves, before he tossed them into a nearby disposal bin.

"Time of death is estimated between one and three AM, but that’s as much as I can give you for now. Cause of death? Completely unknown. There’s no trauma, no toxins, no internal bleeding. He just…died…" I frowned at that.

“What about his medical history? Any heart conditions?" I questioned curiously, but Dr. Howard shook his head.

"Nothing. Perfectly healthy twenty-two-year-old athlete. I checked twice," he answered. Stanley tapped the edge of his notebook with his pen and the look on his face was thoughtful.

"So, no signs of external injuries, no drugs or poisons, and no prior health conditions?" he asked, and Dr. Howard nodded.

"Correct. It’s as if his body simply…stopped functioning,” that sent a chill down my spine. People didn’t just die without a reason. There was always something – some clue, some detail waiting to be uncovered. We just had to find it. I turned toward the forensic team, who was standing off to the side, as they waited for their turn to contribute.

"What about you guys? Anything from the scene?" I asked. Detective Monica Evans, one of our lead forensic specialists, stepped forward.

"The body was found washed up by Bedford River. Mason Smith, a local fisherman, discovered him around six PM when he was coming back from a fishing trip. He immediately called it in," she explained, and I nodded.

“And Smith’s statement checks out?" Stanley questioned.

"Yes. He seemed genuinely shaken by the discovery. No criminal record, no known ties to the victim," Monica confirmed. "He was also accompanied by his two sons, Wesley and David. As for the scene itself, there wasn’t much. No footprints near the body except for Smith’s. No blood, no drag marks. It’s like he was just placed there by the water," Stanley frowned.

"Could he have drowned? Maybe he fell into the river upstream, and the current carried him here?" he asked, but Dr. Howard shook his head.

"No water in his lungs. He was already dead when he hit the water," he explained, and I glanced at the victim again. Jonathan Swatch had been twenty-two years old, a college athlete with his whole future ahead of him. And now, he was nothing more than another name on our ever-growing list of unsolved cases.

"What do we know about his background?" I asked as I shifted my focus. Stanley hurriedly flipped through his notes.

"College student at Bedford College. Hockey player on a scholarship. According to his coach and teammates, he was dedicated and disciplined. No known enemies, no major drama in his life. The only titbit I got was his recent breakup with his now ex-girlfriend Amelia Jones, and she is still out of town with her parents…since last week Wednesday. Camping trip,"

"Family?"

"Parents live out of state. His mother is flying in later today to identify the body," Stanley said, and I sighed. That was never an easy part of the job. Monica cleared her throat, which turned our attention back to her.

"He was reported missing two days ago by his roommate. He had his car license in his pocket, but that was it. We found no personal belongings on him. No wallet, no phone, not even a house key," I frowned at that. Why would he have his car license with him but nothing else?

"Do you think he was robbed?" I asked her, but she frowned.

"Maybe, but it doesn’t make sense. If this was a mugging gone wrong, there would be some sign of struggle. Bruises, scratches, defensive wounds. But there’s nothing," she said, and Stanley shook his head.

"And it doesn’t explain the cause of death," he said. Suddenly, Dr. Howard sighed, as he carefully covered Jonathan’s body.

“I’ll keep running tests, but right now, I have no rational explanation for what happened to him,” he said, and I sighed as I rubbed my temples in frustration.

“It’s the same MO…I hate this, it doesn’t sit right,” I muttered. "It’s like he just...stopped existing. And the fact that no one saw anything, no cameras caught anything, no evidence left behind…it’s too perfect," Monica nodded grimly.

"I was thinking the same thing. Whoever did this didn’t make a mistake. It’s like they knew exactly how to cover their tracks," she said, and that was what scared me. The silence stretched between us as the weight of those words settled. My gut told me we weren’t dealing with a normal killer. Something was off. And if we didn’t find out what, we might be too late to stop it from happening again. It was bad enough that we still had so many missing people. Stanley broke the silence as he sighed loudly and shut his notebook.

“This is such a disaster…we have nothing. No cause of death. No suspects. No leads. No motive. Just a dead kid and a giant question mark,” just as Stanely finished his little rant, the lights flickered and everything went dark. My whole body tensed up at the sudden darkness that surrounded me.

“That’s strange. The power’s been steady all day," Dr. Howard remarked. I reached out blindly until I felt Stanley’s arm. I tugged on him roughly as I stepped back.

“Great. Just what we need. A power outage in the middle of a case that already feels like something out of a horror movie,” Monica muttered under her breath, and I forced a chuckle. Something about this whole situation felt off.

“Well, keep us updated, come on, Caitlin…let’s hit the road,” Stanely said as he took my hand in his to guide me outside and his silent offer of comfort was greatly appreciated. Of course, the second we were outside, he dropped my hand. But it didn’t matter. The feeling in my gut told me one thing. Jonathan Swatch’s death was our fourth victim, and I just knew that this was still just the beginning.