I had been working at the body farm for close to twelve months. It was a job I initially took out of necessity, rather than desire. The job was as a data administrator. Basically, scientists gave me test results mostly consisting of dates, times and rate of decomposition, and I keyed them into a system.
For those who don't know, a body farm is basically a research and testing facility. It is where human decomposition can be examined in great detail and in different environments.
Essentially, you wait and watch how people decompose in a variety of settings, and the scientists record how long they've been dead, and how quickly they decay, of course, for the better of science.
Before working here, I hadn't heard of such a facility. I couldn't believe something like this would be required. I have since learned, however, that it can be used to support the authorities in the event of a criminal investigation and assist the police or coroner in determining a more accurate time of death.
I mean how sort after can these kinds of things be?
One of the first things I was curious about was where they got the bodies from. Surely, they get them from somewhere. And one can't be picky. Of course, we accepted bodies of all types, sizes, races and gender. It is important to know the decomposition rate of a skinny person or someone who is overweight.
Later I learned that people who have a donor card, at the time of their death, offer themselves to science by donating their organs to those who need them. They can also sign their bodies over to help towards a greater good. If that hasn't been satisfied, then sometimes the families submit their bodies provided by local authorities to us, if a body wasn't claimed.
We also found bodies in all sorts of places. In the middle of a field, in the forest surrounding the facility, some were even found in the water at various depths. The water was man made streams or even ponds that were dotted around the field.
I will never forget the first time I saw one of the bodies out in the field behind my block. It was that of a young woman lying face down in the dewy grass. Based on what I had learned up to that point, she would have had to have been dead for around two months. The smell, which I would compare to rotting garbage, invaded my nostrils with blunt violence, hitting the back of my throat simultaneously.
Being new to the job, I didn't want to show any weaknesses to my colleagues, but I couldn't help it, I retched in response. The scent hit the back of my throat like a bug on a wind shield and burning bile climbed up my gullet, reaching my mouth. The sensation stung my nose as I tried to not breathe...Turning to face away from it, I released the bile from my mouth spitting on the ground.
"You better get used to that if you're going to last mate." I remember one of my co-workers saying.
Then, came the vision of what I perceived. Her skin shining an electric blue in the dim moonlight, the moisture reflecting the moons glow. Thick veins snaking across her back as if lightning had struck. The open sores across her body proof she had attracted the local wildlife, with maggots in their thousands taking refuge in her crumbling corpse. The squawk of crows above pointed to what certainly made the wounds in her skin.
Recalling what my colleague had said earlier that night, you never get used to it. I don't think you ever can. So, you deal with it differently. As for me, I kept to the path around the building from the car park to avoid glancing over into any of the main fields. If they do catch your eye, you can spot where a body was because a bodies decomposition kills the grass beneath it. When you see a bald patch amongst the tall, green grass, chances are a body laid there.
Bear that in mind the next time you walk in the woods...
The road leading to the facility takes you to the mountain range behind it, so there's not much passing traffic. To the front of the site, is the administration building. This is where I worked. The containment sites, or fields, are to the rear of the building. The facility is in a large fenced off area in the middle of a remote woodland just outside of town. A forested area frames the perimeter fence to the side, and a boggy, swampy area is set over the back. This is where you tend to find, what I call, Bloaters. Those who have been left in the water to decompose.
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The Farm
Terror*PIPMC Contest Entry* Horror Would this be a simple 9-5 job at the farm, or would curiosity get the better of him? "Don't ask too many questions!" Is what I was told by several of them. He recounts the job he took as an administrator, working in a...