What's Happened in There?

The Opening- Chapter 1

I stood frozen on the street. I eyed the house up and down, checking for any signs of the living. I saw nor sensed any, so I came closer. Stepping on the lawn, realization strikes as to what I'm doing. I shake off the pain in my gut and take a few more steps, nearing the door. I stared at the frame, the knob, and the lock. Did I really want to know whether it was unlocked or open?

Open to the world for weeks. What am I doing?

I reached forward, my backpack starting to weigh me down, feet planted on cement, I grabbed the door knob. I wiggled it, and it popped open. Great. I breathed in deep and slightly opened the door more, so that now I have a better view. Yet still just a crack in the supposedly sealed home, a rush of life and a cry for help call out to me. I tried to fully open the door, but flinched and lost my cool when it abruptly stopped. Just the chain lock. I reached my hand in slowly and reached around for where the ball met the opening in the lock and slid it open. Anyone or anything could be in here.

Curiosity hadn't hurt me yet.

I opened the creaky door all the way, slowly murdering my nerves with the squeaks and the gust of a once home, now hell vibe. Sticking my body in to smell the sickening stench of rotten blood, I cringed. I closed my eyes and breathed deep, but in just those seven seconds of vulnerability, I felt like a dead man walking. I quickly shot my eyes open to see nothing lingering in my presence besides superstition. I kept my eyes peeled in fear for more than a blink, in hopes not to feel the horrible feeling again. I took my first real step inside.

Though being daytime, it was getting to be winter, and an unpleasant day in general. The inside of the house was masked in darkness. I felt the need for all of my senses, and if possible, an added sixth. I walked back outside and opened my backpack. I grabbed the flashlight out and turned it on, making little difference in the outside. I peeked back inside, still incredibly weary of my surroundings and on high alert with my senses. Nothing looked incredibly out of the ordinary, there was a nice rug, a couch, and a television. I walked in looking around, taking in all my surroundings. I still smelt the blood and everything felt strange, but what else could I have been expecting? It felt as though this house had been locked away from reality for a hundred years, but really, has only been a few months. After feeling quasi-acclimated to the house, I ventured in further.

Into the kitchen, where it smelt of rotten produce, but nothing worse. The bloody smell must be coming from the other side of the living room. I continued to look around. Into the laundry room, where everything was frozen in time. Tide stained the floors, the cap across the room. Maybe this is where it all began? The room shows slight sign of struggle. It's hard to tell without knowing as much as I probably should about the entire situation. As far as I could tell, this was as far as I could venture on this side of the house.

I returned back to the living room and started in the other direction, and it hit me again. Like a smack in the face. A reminiscent smell of copper stings my noes as the not so pleasant reminder of blood kicks my gut once more.

I reluctantly cracked open a door. I wish I'd known this house a little better before now. The smell hits me harder than ever. Hopefully to the point I'll never have to smell it so harshly again. My eyes are watery and I'm struggling to see. After composing myself a bit more, I step into the room. A bedroom. Nothing was too breath taking at first. It came obviously that the stabbing was in this room. Everything was broken and disheveled. I walked forward and stood in the middle of the room, less freaked out than I'd previously imagined. I took it all in. The bloody handprints on the walls, the overwhelming smell, and the overall sheer feeling of being in a murder scene. Everything alarming, but settling. The only thing I can't figure out is where the newfound smell of rot is coming from.

It was masked by blood at first, but I definitely smell rot. Maybe an animal found its way in but couldn't get back out? I began sniffing a bit harder. It leads me to the closet. Funny, I hadn't thought about opening it. I put my hand in the opening crack of the closet and shoved it sideways.

My vision goes a bit blurry from shock, and I shine my flashlight to clarify what I'd just seen. A black garbage bag that stunk of rotting flesh. My stomach was now coughing itself up, in fear and just utter grossness. I wasn't sure how much longer I could handle the smell. I back away, scared out of my mind, shaking right out of my sorry excuse for an epidermis. I back into something, which triggers me to vomit, and drop my flashlight. I nearly black out. My vision is too shaky to move, I wouldn't make it very far at all. I can't make a sound but my breathing is becoming increasingly exasperated after my attention is placed to where the flashlight now lays. In front of me lies a pool of blood. Not hand prints or shoe prints. But a pool of drying blood. Then it struck me. The stabbing I know about didn't happen last night and this blood isn't dry. I'm dead. Tears start to pour from my eyes. I'm frozen still and can't seem to do anything about it. I'm cold and fairly certain it's now darkening rapidly outside. Who else is in here with me?

I hear something knock and everything comes rushing back to me. All of my senses are on overdrive and my adrenaline kicking in. I jump through the blood, not caring what happens to my clothes or my flashlight. Getting back out that doorway gave me only the slightest sense of relief, but enough common sense to kick my shoes off and leave them here. I kick them off of each other and bolt out the front door, slamming it behind me. My eyes starting to brim with tears again now that the adrenaline has begun to fade. I grab my backpack and run.

The tears of fright now streaming down my face, not letting up. The streets are desolate thank God, no one to see me like this. No need to raise suspicions or cause problems. I made it home just before dark, and I ran to a tree in my backyard and crashed on a route under it. I began crying my eyeballs out. Between fear and confusion. What the fuck had I just seen?