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A smell of a metallic tang wafted through the room and overtook the scarfed boy's sensesmaking his heart beat rapidly with fear. The entire house was dark, the windows covered with wood to block out sunlight and nosey eyes, bare floorboards creaking with each step he took. His senses had screamed that something was terribly wrong way before he stepped foot within the broken doorway. The doors along the hallway had been closed, all save one. He could only guess what lay behind them as he slowly walked through the open room. Through the darkness he could just make out the shadows of a bed in the corner, just beneath the boarded window that was hidden behind heavy draps. The bed wasn't empty, he could sense something in it but not sure of what. 'Please, let it be him...'

The floor let out a loud creak of warning as he stepped on another loose floor board and he cringed. Silence resumed and pounded against his ears like his heart pounded against his ribcage. And with each step he took, the smell of blood grew stronger as if an invitiation to come closer, dare figure out where it came from. Eyes adjusting to darkness, he saw the lump was covered in a sheet that bloomed darker in many places. Nothing of what lay beneath could be seen visibly except the pale shadow-grey arm that stuck out awkwardly like a twisted branch from a tree. Thin fingers curved towards the ground with their tips a darker shade than the rest of the arm, and a thin, beady band hanging on to the bony wrist for dear life.

'It can't be..!'

The boy stepped closer to the bed, the bloody scent and the smell of putrid death mingled together to cause a reaction of rising vile in the pit of his stomach. Within reach of the head of the bed, he reached out and he peeled away the sheet at its end. The gasp of absolute horror broke through the silence of the room as a cold face stared back at him with lifeless grey eyes framed with an unruly mess of dark hair. Unresoluted anger poured through him as he stared at the face that was once a silent child who lived there life in the shadows of other people. A face that was once concealed behind a simple cloth mask.

Suddenly everything clicked. 'If he is dead, then everyone else...'

He didn't need to know what lay beyond those closed doors, this showed everything he needed to know. Even the fate of the one he was looking for seemed sealed. He backed away slowly from those haunting eyes, a shaky hand held over his mouth, and rushed out of the room. The smell of death followed him like a stray dog, even as he ran down the hallway towards the back of the house. Dark stains covered dark walls as if a memorial of what took place. Crashing through a door, he stumbled into a naturally lit room that gleamed red, white and clear. There were no boards over the windows and unwelcomed sunlight coursed through reflecting an aged roof in the puddles on the floor.

But his eyes did not see that roof, or the room's red-splattered walls. Instead, they focussed on the naked body floating face-up in the over-filled bath tub of red water. The flannel that lay suffocatingly over an unseen face did not stop the boy from recognising who it was. And the only things that answered his bloodcurling scream was the stench of death and blood.