The shape could easily have been a jacket, but I couldn't be sure. Man, I was really hoping it was a jacket. Maybe they lent their apartment out to a friend who fell asleep watching the TV. I called out just in case.

"Hello?"

"HeLLLOOO?"

"Anybody there?"

Nothing.

All right, now I was just fucking with myself. This is crazy. We have procedures for this kind of thing (run, call the cops, cry) but I decided I didn't feel like being laughed at by cops barging in and finding a jacket on the couch, a hungry dog, and a dog walker shaking like Shaggy from Scooby-Doo. So I decided it was just a jacket and left for the night. I'd be back in the morning when I could see better.

The next day I arrived and Joe the dog was fully agitated. Not good. I ignored the long hallway, averting my eyes, and headed for the nearby kitchen, instead. I fed Joe in the kitchen and decided it was time to see what was what. I walked to the dark hallway, now a little better lit from a nearby window, and looked to the living room. TV's still on. Jacket's still on the couch.

Dead silent.

I walk a little closer. Now the jacket's not a jacket. What the hell is that? Looks like it could be a mannequin. Why the fuck would they have a dummy?

(Please God, no evil puppets.)

Another few steps. Maybe it is a jacket.

"Hello?"

Another few steps. Looks like a guy. Maybe it's a drunken neighbor.

"HELLO?!"

Hmmm, wait a minute. It's definitely a dummy. Why the fuck do they have a dummy? Now I'm at the living room entrance and the couch is 3 feet from me. Oh shit. That's not a dummy.

It's a guy.

Now I'm in the room, standing in front of the couch. The TV's still on. There's a bottle of diet coke on the floor. There's a dead guy on the couch. Oh fuck.

Bill's dead.

His arms are spread over the back of the couch like a guy on a date. He's in a t-shirt and shorts and his head is leaning waaay too far back. Scary far back. His skin is a mottled red and gray. Fuck.

Ok, wait. Get a grip. Maybe he's not dead.

"Bill!"

No movement.

"BIILLL!!"