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Horror Stories: The Stench of Death

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G' day readers, and thanks for all the Renter Horror Stories submitted over the past week. In a naked case of editorial privilege, we're going to pick our few favorites from the 20 or so submissions for advancement to the next round. Throughout the week you'll get to read these, and then, in addition to the one we ran last week, our chosen few will go to a reader vote this Thursday. So gear up, here we go... From Scott:

Two summers ago, I was renting a high-rise condo from a Greek woman that looked like Marlon Brando. One Sunday morning, I come home from brunch to discover a distinct coppery smell in the air. I didn't know what it was at first, so I started hunting for the source. Finally arriving at the master bathroom, I open the door and the smell hits me in the face. I turn on the light and see a puddle of red in the all-white bathroom. Looking up, I realize what used to be a small crack in the ceiling has opened up into what looks like a flesh wound and it's dripping blood. Let me just say it splatters a lot more than one would think. I called the building office and the maintenance guy comes up a few minutes later. After looking at the bathroom (which is getting redder by the minute), he turns to me and says, "I don't want to go upstairs. This is gonna be bad." Turns out my upstairs neighbor had died (probably 7-10 days earlier) and was bleeding through the concrete slab into my apartment below. I contacted my landlord every way I knew how to get her to clean up the mess and fix the ceiling but she had literally skipped town. With her not responding, that left me to clean up the bathroom and attach huge amounts of paper towels to the ceiling to soak up the blood until it finally stopped. I didn't hear from the landlord until 2 weeks later when she called to complain that I hadn't paid the rent. No kidding - there's a ceiling that needs to be fixed!