MidReal Story
Bloodstained Secrets
Scenario: I opened the door, seeing a naked man lying in the blood on my floor.
Create my version of this story
The coffee I got on my way home from my late shift hadn’t helped one bit, and all I wanted was to sleep.
It was the middle of the afternoon, and I had just made it back to my apartment after a long, hard day at work.
I was tired and my feet hurt.
I cursed my boss for making me stay so late.
I just wanted to take a shower and get into bed.
Once I was under the warm covers, I’d be asleep in seconds, and I wouldn’t have to worry about anything until tomorrow morning when my alarm went off.
That’s all I wanted, but I’d never get it.
I wished for it, hoped for it with all my might, but it didn’t matter.
My bed wouldn’t be there waiting for me.
All that would be there was the nightmare that would jolt me awake again and again.
I trudged down the hallway to my apartment, fumbling in my purse for my keys as I walked.
It was dark, and I couldn’t see very well, but I could make out the numbers on the doors as I passed them.
I finally found my keys and pulled them out of my purse, searching for the right key in the chain.
I finally found it and slipped it into the lock on my door, turning it carefully so as not to make too much noise.
The last thing I wanted was for any of my neighbors to wake up and start complaining about how loud I was being when they were trying to sleep.
I turned the key and pushed open the door to my apartment, relieved to finally be home.
There was a small light in the hallway that turned on automatically when someone walked by, and there was enough light coming from it that I could see inside my living room to the left of where I was standing.
What I saw made me gasp, and my keys fell from my hand as I stared at the sight before me.
There was a naked man lying on the floor of my living room, his eyes closed as he lay motionless on his stomach.
Blood was streaked across his pale skin, and his dark hair was matted with it as he lay there like some kind of grotesque statue.
I stood frozen in the doorway, too shocked to move or say anything as I stared at him.
He didn’t move, didn’t so much as twitch, but I was sure he was alive.
He had to be, right?
Who would leave a naked man in my living room?
And how had he even gotten in there?
My heart raced with panic, sending waves of adrenaline through my body that effectively burned away any trace of sleepiness that might have still been clinging to me after work.
I was wide awake now, staring at the most terrifying sight I’d ever seen in my life, but still I couldn’t move or speak.
It was like I was frozen there, permanently shocked by the sight before me.
The man didn’t move, not even to breathe, or if he did I couldn’t see it from where I was standing.
My living room was virtually silent except for the sound of my own breathing as I stood there, watching him and waiting for him to do something—anything—so I’d know what was going on.
How had he gotten in there?
I was sure I’d locked the door behind me when I left that morning for work, so how had this man gotten inside?
What did he want?
Was he going to hurt me?
I took a step back, suddenly fearing that he might jump up and attack me at any second, but he didn’t move.
He just lay there, silent and unmoving, his eyes still closed as if he were… sleeping?
No one could sleep through something like that, could they?
Why wasn’t he waking up?
Why wasn’t he moving at all?
He had to be dead, right?
That was the only logical explanation; that was why he wasn’t moving or making any sound.
Oh God, oh God…
The realization hit me like a ton of bricks, and I felt like I was going to be sick as it sank in.
There was a dead body in my apartment!
My first instinct was to run, and that’s exactly what I did.
I turned and sprinted back out into the hallway, slamming the door shut behind me.
My heart pounded in my ears, making it hard for me to hear anything other than the blood rushing through my veins, but I could hear someone else’s voice over the roaring in my head.
I fumbled in my purse for my phone, my hands shaking so hard I could barely hold on to it, but I managed to find it and pull it out, dialing 911 as quickly as I could.
“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”
a voice asked as soon as someone picked up on the other end of the line.
The dispatcher’s voice was calm, but I was too panicked to really process that.
“I—there’s—” I tried to speak, but I couldn’t seem to form a coherent sentence.
I took a deep breath, trying to slow my heart rate enough that I could think clearly for a second.
“There’s a dead body in my apartment,” I said finally, my voice coming out in a small, strangled whisper that sounded nothing like me.
“A dead body?”
the dispatcher repeated, her voice rising in surprise.
“Yes,” I said, my voice growing steadier.
“I just got home from work and I found a dead body in my apartment.
I don’t know how long he’s been there.
I ran out as soon as I saw him.”
“All right, ma’am,” she said.
“I need you to tell me your name and address so I can send someone over to help you.”
I gave her the information she needed between deep breaths, trying to keep myself from hyperventilating again.
The dispatcher kept talking to me, trying to calm me down while she kept me on the line.
I could hear her typing something on her computer keyboard while we talked, probably sending out a call for help to dispatch an ambulance to my location.
I don’t know how long we stayed on the phone like that, but before I knew it there were flashing lights coming down the street toward me.
“They’re here,” the dispatcher said after a moment.
“There’s an officer coming to talk to you now.
I heard a car door slam in the background, then someone was calling out to me from behind.
I turned around and saw a man in a police uniform coming down the hallway toward me.
“Are you Emily Johnson?”
he asked once he reached me.
I nodded, too shocked to say anything.
“I’m Officer Rhodes,” he said, reaching out to touch my arm gently.
“I’m going to take you inside now, all right?I don’t want you to be alone out here.”
I nodded again, still not trusting my voice.
He gave me a small, reassuring smile, then took my arm and helped me walk back down the hall to my door, leading me inside.
Two police cars had pulled up outside the building, their lights flashing and casting shadows throughout my apartment.
Two police officers were already inside, shining their flashlights around in different corners of the room.
At first I thought they were looking for someone else who might have broken into my home, but then I remembered that the man was still lying on my living room floor.
Officer Rhodes led me over to where the other two officers were standing, then went over and stood next to an older man who was sitting on my couch with his head in his hands.
I didn’t recognize him as one of my neighbors, but then, I hadn’t met everyone who lived in this building yet.
“Are you all right, Miss Johnson?”
one of the officers who was standing next to me asked.
I turned my attention back to them.
The man was tall and muscular, with dark hair and a clean-shaven face.
His uniform stretched tight over his broad shoulders, and while he didn’t look much older than me, his eyes were dark and serious, like he’d been doing this job for a long time.
I nodded weakly, still not trusting myself to speak.
“My name is Officer Miller,” the man said.
“Can you tell me exactly what happened here?”
I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head enough that I could think about everything that had happened over the last few minutes.
“I came home from work,” I said finally, “and when I opened the door, I found a man lying on my living room floor.He was naked and covered in blood.I—I think he’s dead.”
Officer Miller took a step closer to me, studying me intently.
“Do you know who he is?”
“I’ve never seen him before in my life.”
“Do you know how he got into your apartment?”
I shook my head.
“I don’t know how he got in there,” I said.
“Okay,” he said.
“Why don’t you come sit down for a minute while we take a look at things?”
I nodded and let one of the officers guide me over to the couch.
I sat down in the armchair across from it, watching as Officer Miller and his partner walked over to where the man lay on the floor.
They knelt next to him and began examining his body, shining their flashlights in his eyes and checking his pulse.
The man still hadn’t moved; he was lying perfectly still with his eyes closed, almost like he was asleep.
Except that I knew he wasn’t.
After a moment, one of the officers stood up and walked over toward me.
“Yeah,” I said.
“Is he—is he really—”
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he said gently.
“There’s nothing we can do for him now.He’s already gone.”
I felt tears welling up in my eyes again.
If he had been alive when I found him, would I have been able to save him?
Could I have done something to stop all of this from happening?
I still had so many questions about what was going on.
Why was there a dead body in my apartment?
Who was the man who had been lying there?