It seemed as if there never had been a weekend at all, as if time decided to stop on one horrible Monday morning, where everything that could go wrong, went exponentially wrong. As if the fates had decided to come down on him with the full force of the underworld, where they silently habituated. Well, not so silently.
He woke up, after a restless sleep, to find himself in a pool of blood, that belonged to God knows who. The worst part is that there was no body to be found anywhere. That had been at 6:00 am. At 9:00 am now, nothing had improved. If anything, things had gotten weirder. It wasn't just his bed that was soaked in blood, but his clothes, and all of him as well. He had gotten out of bed, his heart like a race horse in full gallop, to find a message, written in blood on his bathroom mirror. "Welcome". It is all it said.
He had no idea what it meant. He pinched himself, repeatedly, he must have been dreaming, or at least that is what he thought. It hurt, he was wide awake. Not standing his sight, nor the smell any longer, he showered, cleared the be, threw the sheets away, and cleaned the bathroom.
He tried hard to remember if anything had happened the night before, but could not remember anything relevant. He had not drank, had not done anything questionable. He had spent the entire night alone, in his house. Had fallen asleep around midnight. There had been nothing strange, so what was going on? He stepped out of his apartment building, where a scent hit him. It was unusual, nothing he had smelt before, but oddly familiar, it reminded him of something. No, not something, someone he thought, but who? The smell was sweet, intoxicating, even sophisticated. At least that is what he associated it with, but no image came to his mind.
He walked over to the garage to drive to work. He needed to get some routine work in his day, something he was familiar with, until he was able to make sense of any of this. He got to the garage, only to find his car totalled. It was completely destroyed. It looked as if a bulldozer had driven over it, several times. He put his hands on his head, wondering what on hell had happened the night before? Why was his car like this? He looked around searching for the night guard, to ask him for some sort of explanation. There was no one around. Actually, the entire garage was silent, all the cars were there, and usually at this time, there were only a few left. What was more, his car was in the same spot he had parked it, only that it now resembled a can ready to be recycled.
He picked up his phone to report this to the police, but he then noticed that his mobile phone was also out of order. It seemed...burned. He started to become a bit exasperated. What the hell was going on?
He went out onto the street, to walk to the station, to report the car. He didn't think he could really explain the whole blood thing. The scent hit him once more. It took over all his senses. Who did it remind him of? He rattled his brains in search for an image, a face. He tried hard, no face came to him, instead a voice, the most melodic and captivating voices of all came to him, as strong as if it were next to him. The voice whispered "welcome".