Before
The smell hit me first.
Coppery and thick, I knew what I was smelling before I had even switched on the light.
It clung to my tongue, coating the inside of my mouth, until I had no choice but to swallow down the metallic taste of it.
Shakily, I reached out, my fingers trembling so much that I missed the light switch on the first attempt.
It wasn’t that I wanted to see what I already knew was there, more that I had to see it.
I had to…with my own two eyes.
Two seconds it took, though it felt like a lifetime, for my eyes to finally get used to the light. The moment they did, I wished I was back in the darkness.
Red.
My whole living room was red.
The walls were splattered and dripping; the carpet squelched as I took a step forward. And even that small step splashed droplets up over my sneakers.
It looked like someone had opened several gallons of sticky, scarlet paint and dumped them over my life.
But I knew it wasn’t painted.
Fighting back the urge to gag, I forced myself to look around. The whole place was trashed: pictures and mementos smashed under all the blood. Like someone had tried to obliterate my entire life.
And the blood…
Lord Jesus, the blood.
There was so much. Too much of it.
My heart sank, the anxious beat slowing until it was barely beating at all.
“Woof?” My first call of his name was barely a whisper. “Woofy, please, baby.” Tears started to fall as the sobs I had held in tried to break free of my chest.
No one could survive that kind of blood loss. Not a man or woman, and most definitely not a defenceless animal.
A scratching noise from the kitchen caught my attention. Loud and insistent.
“Woof?” I called again, and this time I was answered with a loud bark. My heart slammed back to life.
He was alive. It wasn’t his blood that soaked my carpet and decorated every inch of the room.
But it had to be someone’s blood.
Lifting my eyes once more, I fixed my gaze on the far wall. Scrawled next to the window were words. I didn’t know how I had missed them the first time. Big and bold, they might as well have been a neon sign.
The message was clear.
I was next.
Stumbling backwards, my back hit something solid and I let out a scream that shocked even me.
“Shit.” My neighbour’s voice was shaky as he caught sight of the mess. “Shit, I’m going to phone the police.”
I felt myself nodding, but it was like someone else was using my body.
