Two-and-a-half hours after departing the crash site, Gareth finally spotted his house. He paused for a moment to think.

I am amazed that no one stopped me on my way here, considering my condition. I suppose being covered in blood is an excellent deterrent.

That, and everyone in the city is focused on what happened earlier. I doubt any cops are hanging around to question me.

Before him loomed the place he called home. An old, rundown, two-bedroom house that was on its last legs. The only good thing about it was the sizable basement and the fact it was directly on the bus line.

That served me excellently today. Damn crash ruining the bus schedule. I had to walk all the way here!

He shook his head and walked up the steps to his door. He unlocked it, glanced back, then stepped in and locked the door behind him. The floor creaked menacingly under his feet as he strode through the dimly lit building toward his basement door. He flipped the light switch next to the door, then pulled at the handle. It swung open with a screech and he began his descent.

After just a few steps, he looked down at himself and realized the state he was in. Rather than head back and clean up, Gareth simply set down the thermos he had and peeled the soiled clothes off of his body. He studied the matted clothes on the stairs, the grey pants that would now forever be stained a dark red, and the button-down shirt that could no longer be recognized as white. He examined his arms and legs, peered down at his stomach and attempted to look at his back.

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Seeing the dried blood brought back the sights and sounds, the smell of blood and death, the feeling of crawling over a corpse and feeling their body squish under him.

Gareth began hyperventilating and collapsed backwards onto the steps above him. He squeezed his eyes shut and hugged himself.

He didn’t know how long he laid there. It felt like the events replayed themselves for hours on end. When he finally got his breathing under control, he opened his eyes and shakily stood up. He grasped at the handrail that the stairs luckily had, and slowly continued his trek downward.

As Gareth took his first step, his foot came into contact with the thermos that he had forgotten about and sent it bouncing down.

“Shit.”

It clattered off the stairs, making a commotion that brought the sound of cars crashing into a crater to mind. Gareth did his best to ignore that and cursed his luck.

I went through all that trouble, put myself in danger, and I just dropped the one thing I got out of it other than trauma. Damn it.

The thermos bounced off the last few lit steps and into the dark basement, the lid coming off as it came into contact with the hard floor at the bottom. He hopes the contents were alright, but he couldn’t see if anything had happened—

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

He could see a spot that was glowing a dull orange slowly moving around on the floor. About two inches on the floor, sliding across the floor, deeper into the basement. It moved to the right, ponderously wondering around. Slowly, ever so slowly, it went to the right around a corner and away from Gareth’s vision.