“Call the Police”: The Shocking Truth on My Husband’s Back
I thought the red spots on my husband David’s back were mosquito bites. But they didn’t fade—they spread in strange, perfect patterns. He was always tired, scratching, his shirts dusted with flakes. Something felt off.
One morning, I lifted his shirt to apply cream—and froze. The marks were darker, raised, almost like something was under his skin.
“David, we’re going to the hospital. Now.”
At the doctor’s office, the doctor went pale and whispered to the nurse:
“Call the police. Immediately.”
The truth hit like a punch: those weren’t bites. Tiny RFID implants had been secretly placed under his skin. The so-called “heating patches” he used for muscle pain were hiding them. David hadn’t just been sick—he’d been watched, used in illegal experiments.
The police got involved, and our lives would never be the same.
