The sound of dripping woke Harry from his reverie.

A single drop of water had fallen into the sink as he stood over it, followed a second later by another. The tap always dripped; he had never really bothered to get it fixed in the years he had lived in the small apartment. The darkness that surrounded him was unusual, though; he never stepped into the bathroom without turning on the light. In fact, he could not remember stepping into the bathroom, much less any of the time leading up to him standing there. Harry blinked again, not seeing much. A dull light came from the kitchen, allowing some light in to see his way.

“Harry, you’ve just not been sleeping well lately,” he finally said to himself, shaking his head at the entire situation. Sleepwalking was common in his family, and he resolved to himself that he must have been doing that. He looked down at himself in the dim light, and saw that he was not wearing his usual sleep attire; instead, he was wearing a black suit with a black tie and white shirt on underneath. He puzzled at this for a moment, at why he would don such clothing at this hour.

He moved to turn on the light, but noticed that his hands felt dirty. Rather than spread what dirt was on his hands, he decided to wash his hands right there. He adjusted the lever for the water with his wrist, then started to wash. He saw some form of dark liquid on his hands wash off into the sink, something which stunned Harry. His car had needed an oil change, but he could not remember doing it himself. He resolved to check his oil as soon as he was at the car; he might have been doing work on it while sleepwalking.

Water splashed him in the face from his hands, washing away the sleep from his eyes and helping him wake up even further. After living for so long in the one place, he had become accustomed to where everything was, and the towel was just in the place where he had left it. It was soon dabbing his face gently, the soft fabric absorbing the beading water on his brow and the palms of his hands.He replaced the towel, then turned on the light switch.

The lights came up, and he glanced around, seeing nothing amiss with the small bathroom. It was all as he left it before, and he smirked happily at this. With his sleepwalking experiences usually ending up in him haphazardly throwing spaghetti in the bathtub or something to that affect, Harry took solace that the dripping of the tap must have gotten him out of the haze of the sleepwalking experience before he had to clean up another food-related mishap… but groaned verbally as he realized the dirt on his hands, the dark liquid that he could not see, could have been red wine vinegar. He looked down and saw a tint of red in the sink. “Crap,” he cursed quietly.

That was going to be a mess he did not want to clean.

Slowly, Harry walked out of the bathroom to the kitchen, and was surprised to find that the place was spotless. Not a single drop of any red liquid anywhere… and not a single thing out of place, either. He ran a visual check twice, just to make sure he was not missing anything from his field of vision.

“The living room!” he suddenly exclaimed, running out of the kitchen and back down the small hallway to the living area. His heart was beating faster, hoping he had not damaged any of the fine furniture, the electronics equipment, or anything else in his sleep.

He stopped short as his eyes befell on the scene before him, growing wide to take in the scene before him. He coughed twice, then vomited up what was in his stomach, then pulled out his cell phone and walked away, frantically dialing the numbers on the phone.

“911 Emergency, do you require fire, police or ambulance?” a female voice said on the other end.

“Police,” Harry said, frantically. “There’s two dead bodies in my living room.”