Leave It Be

It seemed as if I were awakening from a dream when I snapped to in the middle of the sidewalk, stopping in my tracks while people behind me yelled as they bumped into me. The cold winter air brushed my cheeks, yet that was the only thing that seemed familiar. I was terrified as I realized I had no memory of getting here, or for that matter what I had been doing, as my last memory was of the Marine Corps sending me into some forest in Japan for an extraction.

The first thing I did was search my pockets for my phone, hoping to have some clarity, yet that only made things more confusing when I saw it was nearly a year and a half later than I had thought. Having no idea what to do, my first instinct was to check my phone’s maps and see if a home location was set, as I had no other family prior to joining the service.

There it was: 80085 Wallman Lane.

Luckily, it said it was only about a fifteen-minute walk from my current location, so I started walking in that direction.

Finally arriving at a ten-story apartment building, I began searching for keys to unlock the door. After a few minutes, I found a keyring and started trying them one by one. A gentleman came up behind me and said, “How are you tonight?”

I replied, stressed, “Fine, thanks.”

He then asked, “Can’t find the right key, huh?”

My arms dropped, exasperated, and I replied, “Yeah.”

He offered to help, using his key to let me in, as he seemed to know me, and I followed him inside. He started down the stairs, and I followed. He asked, “Are you going to do laundry?”

“No, why?” I replied.

“Are you not in apartment 6A? This is the wrong way,” he said.

I turned around, wished him a good night, and headed up to “my” apartment. After some time, I finally get to the door and reach for the handle to check if it wss open, but as my hand touches the cold metal a staggering Deja Vu makes me jump backwards. After some time I try again and I find the correct key to open the apartment, as I insert the key and I hear the clicking of the lock seemingly echo through the hall.

I took a minute to gather the courage to see what was behind the door, then twisted the knob and slowly cracked it open, revealing nothing but pitch-black darkness inside. Even though it was late afternoon, the apartment was darker than a stormy night. I turned on the flashlight app on my phone and stepped inside, terrified of what was to come.

The farther I walked in, the more I realized the apartment was completely empty—not a single piece of furniture other than the refrigerator and oven. After inspecting each room and finding nothing, I proceeded back to the kitchen, hoping to find a single clue about what was going on. The oven was the first thing I opened, and it was completely spotless. Then I opened the fridge.

I didn’t have time to react. My body was already vomiting from the smell radiating from the refrigerator. I covered my mouth with my coat and looked again, seeing what appeared to be blood and possible body parts. Unsure if they were human or animal, I slammed the door shut, ran into the hallway, and slumped onto the floor.

The neighbor who had let me in then came up the stairs and said, “I just wanted to come check on you. You seem very odd tonight. Is everything okay?”

“I’m actually not sure what is going on right now,” I replied.

He sat down next to me with a friendly smile and told me we should talk about it. Reluctantly, I agreed and began to say, “I feel as if something is ins—”

In what seemed like an instant—just a simple blink—when I looked over, he was no longer sitting beside me.

Confused, I stood up but felt a wetness on my hands. When I looked down, I saw crimson liquid covering my hands and clothes, dripping down my arms. In a panic, I turned to run away and tripped over something. Looking back, I saw a bloody mess of what used to be a human scattered across the floor behind where we had been sitting. In the wall above, I saw what looked like teeth smashed into it, each dripping small trails of blood.

I stood there, unable to fathom what had just happened.After standing there for what felt like an eternity, trying to wrap my head around what had happened, I decided to go back inside the apartment and at least get the blood off my hands. I made my way to the bathroom and cleaned up as best I could, splashing water on my face. As I paced back and forth, trying to make sense of everything, I decided to look through the peephole in the door just to make sure what I had seen was actually real.

I slowly brought my eye to the peephole and noticed other neighbors coming out of their apartments, all clamoring about what was going on. I quickly backed away from the door to hide and decided to try to find some information. I searched “I’m losing time” and clicked on the first link.

As I began to read, I noticed my phone was suddenly no longer in my hands, and I let out a small yelp as my left shoulder began burning terribly. I felt around on the dark floor and found my phone near me. Thinking I hadn’t washed my hands well enough, I struggled to unlock it, but eventually succeeded and turned on the flashlight to inspect my shoulder.

Blood was coming from a wound on my shoulder that I could have sworn hadn’t been there a minute ago. I made my way back to the bathroom to clean up again. As I stood up, the flashlight swept across the wall—and there I saw it.

My blood curdled. My knees weakened. All I could do was stare at the message written in blood:

Leave It Be.

Focused on the message, I slowly came to and began hearing more noise outside—like a sea of voices followed by knocking on doors. I prayed they would see my apartment was dark and leave it alone. After a few minutes of silence, I thought I was in the clear. As I began to let out a sigh, there it was: a knock at the door.

My shock turned the sigh into a gasp as a voice called out, “This is the police. We hear you in there. Please come to the door.”

The decision to hide or answer raced through my mind, and I decided to make for the window leading to the fire escape. It must have been loud enough for them to hear. As I struggled to get the window open, I heard shouting from behind me. My heart raced, and then I heard what sounded like electricity.

I came to lying on my back, my whole body aching. As I leaned forward, I realized I couldn’t move my arms—they were restrained in front of me by a white coat wrapped around my body. I looked around, trying to understand where I was, but all I could see was a soft white room and the hum of a dimly lit lightbulb.

There was a small window above the door. Through it, I could see what appeared to be a television. I couldn’t hear it, but my eyes widened and filled with tears as I made out what was on the screen: a police funeral, with the families and children of two officers standing at the front, praying.

Credit: Jearbear