Amidst The Shadows(A ShadowLand Novel-Vol.1)

As He Lay Dying

   The banging on  the door became intense, incessantly so. I hastily threw the robe on over my naked body after falling out of the shower unceremoniously in a rush to find out just who decided it was a good idea to beat hinges off my door.

  Water dribbled down my legs, marking the hard wood floor with small drops as I hurried to the door. I wasn't expecting anyone this late; who comes calling after nine on a weekday anyway?

  I shook my head bewildered and continued toward the door only to come up short. The pounding ceased as a loud thud sounded from outside it. Heart racing, breath hitching, I inched to the door to peek out the hole only to find the hall outside empty. Probably some prankster kids.

  Frowning, I twisted the brass knob and wrenched the door open to be sure, then squealed in fright as a very large form fell against my legs. Had it not been for the grip on the door knob and my hand shooting out to grasp the frame, the weight of the body would have knocked me off my feet.

  It was clear to me as I looked down at the form, my eyes widespread, that the form was male. His hair, a shade of ink, was cropped short. I couldn't see his face as it was aimed toward the ground. A strangely sweet and bitter scent surrounded him and though I couldn't discern the scent, I wanted to get him away from me as quickly as possible, knowing that he must be coming home from a drunken binge and had come to the wrong door.

  As I bent to push him back into the hall I grimaced, feeling guilty that I was about to shove an unconscious man out into the hall of my apartment building. What if he'd drank too much and was dying right now from alcohol poisoning? I narrowed my eyes assessing the rise and fall of his chest, to find it very shallow. My pulse jumped, my fingers immediately searching and finding the pulse just beneath his ear. It was weak. Too weak for my liking.

  "Dear, God." I muttered under my breath reaching out to place my hands under the man's arms. I proceeded to pull him inside having trouble with the act as the man felt like he weighed triple my one hundred and twenty pounds.

  After heaving and huffing I was able to pull the man over the threshold enough to close the door. I stumbled and fell back onto my worn sofa, trying to catch my breath only for it to hitch at the sight before me.

   There among the folds of a wrinkled white button up, hidden just slightly by the fitting black blazer, was a dark red stain that only grew in size as I gawked.

  Quickly acting after a moment of shock, I grabbed the ivory throw off the arm of the sofa and rushed to his side, pressing the fabric into the wound in his chest. This man needed medical attention that I wasn't trained for, but I knew that applying pressure would help stop the blood from flowing out.

  In seconds the portion of the throw I'd wadded over his wound became a dark pink. I rolled it into a tighter ball and pressed it firmly into his chest more forcefully hoping to stem the drainage. He was going to bleed out on my floor and die if I didn't try to get him some help.

  I shot a glance to the phone that normally sat on the lone side table next to the sofa only to find it missing from its base. I then recalled leaving it on my bed after exchanging words with my aunt. I growled in frustration. I could keep applying pressure and hope it helped or I could get the phone. My decision was easily made. I couldn't let this man die.

  Lifting the dead weight of his arm, I draped it over his chest to help hold the throw in place and rushed into my room, grabbing the phone from my pillow. I rushed back to the living room and nearly choked on the breath that hitched in my throat.

  The man, the one that lay dying on my living room floor, the one that left his blood on my hands was... gone. Gone!

  I frantically searched the area, going into the adjoining kitchen. He was nowhere to be found. Not even the few drops of blood he'd left on the hardwood were there. No indication that he'd been there at all.

  Was I losing my mind? No. There was definitely a bleeding man in my apartment. How could he have gotten up and walked away? There was too much blood. And his heart... was barely beating! Even the throw had gone with him.

  I rushed to the door, yanking it open. My head swiveled left and right. The hall was completely empty, dead with silence. He couldn't have left, if he was indeed capable, in such a short amount of time without leaving a trace of his presence behind.

  I bring a hand to my forehead to scratch it in confusion. The blood on my fingers smears over my brow and I gasp hurriedly slamming the door with a bare foot and rushing into the kitchen. This was the evidence. I was positive he was here. I had his blood on my hands for crying out loud!

  In confusion, I scrub the taint from my skin all while assuring myself he'd been here. Oh God! What if he lay dying outside in the street or at the bottom of the stairs?

  I didn't think as I rushed to the living room window and shove it open, climbing out onto the fire escape. Just below and to the left is the main entrance to the complex. I searched, my eyes wildly taking in the surrounding street and sidewalk. It was empty of one dying man.

  I rushed back inside nearly tripping over the rug in my hurry  to the door. I hurled myself out into the hall and rushed down the flight of stairs finding nothing along the way to the door leading into the main entrance. Pocking my head out, the only semblance of life I spied was the security guard resting his booted foot on the desk while shoving a greasy slice of pizza in his mouth.

  Frowning, I returned much slower to my apartment and as a way to rid my mind of the confusion I hopped back into the shower.