As the morning progressed, I began to get worried. I know the owner would want to look for his son, but he would have to check on the bar at some point, or leave someone else in charge. Asking around, nobody else knew anything about Charles or his dad. After much pacing, I finally decided to go up to the owners room, in case he was doing something up there. I walked into the apartment above the bar and recoiled as I entered. Charles and his father obviously weren't very keen on cleaning. There were dirty clothes and food scraps everywhere. Dishes lined the kitchen bench and the couch. I finally made my way through the kitchen, jumping over everything on the floor, and held my breath walking pass the bathroom. I didn't want to witness what smells would be wafting out from there. As I neared the bedroom door, the stench increased. I gagged, fighting back the urge to spew all over the floor right where I was standing. I muffled my nose with my sleeve, blocking out some of the smell. I slowly opened the bedroom door, not wanting to disturb him if he was inside. But what I saw inside was unlike anything I witnessed before, because there, on the bed, was Charles' fathers corpse.