What's on my kitchen floor?

I woke up to the sound of my alarm. Wait, but it wasn't my alarm. Mine had always carried the sound of waves, soft waves splashing against the mushy texture of sand. Located at my favorite place to leisure. The beach.

But no, the alarm I woke up to didn't sound like waves, it sounded like muffled screams.. Screams?

I jolted up and out of bed, leaving the warmth of my comforter behind. The cold hair bites into my skin as I try to make my way across the tinted black floor. I had once watched a reel talking about how heart attacks don't come randomly but actually are caused by a careless mistake we all do in the morning. Something about how the mind is able to quickly turn on, but the body however needs time to still and start functioning before standing from long sleep. But I could care less about that right now. Whoever screamed doesn't have that sort of time to wait for me to calmly pull myself out of bed in order to avoid getting a heart attack.

I hastily pulled over my silver curtains from my windows, which were shielding the view of the outside. But there was nothing. Surely I had heard a scream, or else what had woken me up?

The silver moon light drapes across the ominous darkness of the isolated city of Salinas. Why had I even moved here in the first place? Oh right, I lived perfectly fine in a safe, small community, but I forgot to take my poorly baked rosedough carrot pounds out of the oven before the leftover rosemill oil started to burn up and cause a fire. It had burned down the entire kitchen. I had to look for another apartment on sale for cheap and relocate. One simple mistake and it lead to this. But if I had to choose, this wasn't one of the worst mistakes I have made in my life, not by a long shot.

A loud BANG disrupted me from my thoughts. It came from downstairs, but I was home alone, no one lives with me. Who was hell was in my apartment. Adrenaline kicked up, and I hastily put on my clothes before grabbing the closest thing to a weapon I can find in my room. I figured if there was a kidnapper or a murder who had broken into my house, the least I could do was to make sure he thinks he has the upper hand of catching e by surprise. So I practiced the art of stealth and carefully slipped down the hallway, thank god I decided to replace my old wooden floor with carpet, much better efficiency in creeping around without making a sound.

Right as I reached the edge of the floor and perceded to take my first step on the stair, I hear a quiet almost barely audible crack which most likely came from the front door. I didn't know if I should be relieved or absolutely terrified because the second the reach the first floor, I'm greeted with a mutilated body of a woman, Dropped dead on the floor of my kitchen. Must all my disasters happen in the kitchen, a flashback of a dreadful memory seeps into my brain. I remember the horrible horrible disaster that took place in the kitchen that night, the night with my parents, the night where they - ...The night when everything changed. The night where I as no longer interested in teenage pleasing activities. The night where I no longer had any friends. I had lost a piece of my identity, a large piece. A piece that can not be recovered, a piece that can never be the same again. Leaving behind the remaining traces of a forever cursed soul.

I tried to bring my mind back to the problem laying on the floor of my ass designed kitchen. I can't think of those dangerous thoughts, can't allow my mind to wander back in places it can't go. In forbidden places. I drop my piece of crap rod on the floor and watched in pretend horror as I realized what just happened. Did the person who leave my apartment kill this human being and attempt to frame me for the first degree murder? I slowly stole toward the body as if it would jump at me if I had walked any faster. But when I was less than a foot away, I wasn't sure of what I was looking at anymore because it didn't resemble a woman. In fact, it didn't look like a human at all. Sure it was mutilated, I know how mutilated bodies can become unrecognizable from their previous appearance.

But even so, you can make roughly identify the distinguishable parts of a human. But now that I look closer, this body, this.. animal. It's huge. It's freakishly huge. It's size in length is bigger than my kitchen island, which is 80 inches long. What the absolute hell is on my kitchen floor, what type of animal would this even be? How would anyone even succeed in killing something this prodigious? And most importantly, why would anyone go through the trouble of dropping it off on MY floor? I guess Christmas is in the next few days and most people struggle to find appropriate gifts. But this is nowhere near my definition of a Christmas gift. Even by my dark standards.

To be continued...

(Make sure to come back for part 2!)