Murder In America - EP. 249 - FLORIDA: THE PULSE MASSACRE, PART TWO: THE ENDLESS NIGHT.

Episode Date: June 12, 2026

It was just after 2 am. Over 200 people were enjoying the freedom that Pulse, an LGBTQ nightclub, offered. They were dancing. Connecting. Singing. Embracing the beauty of being alive and being understood. But in an instant, the night changed entirely. Within just a few minutes, dozens would be dead. And over the next few hours, those who did survive would be forced to fight for their lives as they were held captive by a shooter. In part 2 of our 4-part series, we will take you minute by minute through the shooting – looking at every victim, and countless survivors, as they tried to make it through the endless night.  - Sources:https://docs.google.com/document/d/1eTYeCoYyxm58DXXdoFbHQyWHlWbcH9iKGIefFcQToW4/edit?tab=t.y2yayotxnlcb Listen to our new show, "THE CONSPIRACY FILES"!: -Spotify - https://open.spotify.com/show/5IY9nWD2MYDzlSYP48nRPl -Apple Podcasts - https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/the-conspiracy-files/id1752719844 -Amazon/Audible - https://music.amazon.com/podcasts/ab1ade99-740c-46ae-8028-b2cf41eabf58/the-conspiracy-files -Pandora - https://www.pandora.com/podcast/the-conspiracy-files/PC:1001089101 -iHeart - https://iheart.com/podcast/186907423/ -PocketCast - https://pca.st/dpdyrcca -CastBox - https://castbox.fm/channel/id6193084?country=us - Stay Connected: Join the Murder in America fam in our free Facebook Community for a behind-the-scenes look, more insights and current events in the true crime world: https://www.facebook.com/groups/4365229996855701 If you want even more Murder in America bonus content, including ad-free episodes, come join us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/murderinamerica Instagram: http://instagram.com/murderinamerica/ Facebook:https://www.facebook.com/people/Murder-in-America-Podcast/100086268848682/ Twitter: https://twitter.com/MurderInAmerica TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@theparanormalfiles and https://www.tiktok.com/@courtneybrowen Feeling spooky? Follow Colin as he travels state to state (and even country to country!) investigating claims of extreme paranormal activity and visiting famous haunted locations on The Paranormal Files Official Channel: https://www.youtube.com/c/TheParanormalFilesOfficialChannel - (c) BLOOD IN THE SINK PRODUCTIONS 2026 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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We go into great detail with every case that we cover and do our best to bring viewers even deeper into the stories by utilizing disturbing audio and sound effects. Trigger warnings from the stories we cover may include violence, rape, murder, and offenses against children. This podcast is not for everyone. You have been warned. In last week's episode, we dove into the history of Omar Mateen, a man who was full of contradictions, a bully who was bullied, an affectionate doting father who raised, who raised. an affectionate doting father who ripped his son's toys in half in front of him and screamed in his face an Islamic extremist

who drank, swore, did drugs and rejected modesty. When Omar Mateen stepped into Pulse, an LGBTQ nightclub, he was somehow all of these things at once. And at 2.02 a.m., when he lifted his two guns and fired, he became something else.

A killer. But today's story isn't about Omar. It's not about his mission or his contradictions or his rage. It's about the people and side pulse. It's about a fresh high school graduate, a couple celebrating buying their first home, a mother and son celebrating his 21st birthday. Today's story is about a group of people

who came together to display acceptance, love, and joy. A group of people who, despite the horrors they experienced, are still fighting for a better tomorrow. So this is the story of the Pulse Night Club shooting. I'm Courtney Browen. And I'm Colin Browne. And you're listening to Murder in America. It was Latin fever night at Pulse, one of the club's most popular monthly events.

And looking out over the dance floor, it was easy to see why. Latin pop, reggaeton, and EDM thrump through the speakers, moving everyone on the dance floor as one. Drinks were flowing. People from all over the world from all kinds of. kinds of backgrounds were bonding and enjoying their freedom. One survivor told the Guardian, we were dancing with people from all walks of life, gay and straight, brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers.

There was a group of four women, and they were saying things like, oh, Poppy, look at you, you've got moves, white boys got moves. We were drinking and making friends with strangers. That was the kind of vibe inside Pulse as the clock ticked past 1 a.m. That night had been a night of carefree connection. Many guests captured photos and videos of the scene. Couples salsa dancing under neon lights, friends posing with Snapchat filters, strangers bonding over a drink. But soon enough, their night of fun would come to an end.

As the clock ticked closer to 2 a.m., the club started to wind down. A classic point in the night. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here. People were scrambling to find Ubers or lifts outside. Inside. people were finishing their drinks or squeezing in a few last dances. They wanted to make the most of their night before it was time to go back to reality, but a very different reality,

one that none of them could have ever imagined was about to unfold, because outside the nightclub, a car pulled up to the building. The driver had just been inside the club minutes earlier, eyeing the crowd, walking on the outskirts, just as he had done his whole life. This time, as he pushed open the doors, of pulse, he didn't present an ID. He didn't pay the $10 tab. This time, he rushed through the south entrance, bypassing an off-duty police officer who was working security. And in his hands, he held a Glock 9-millimeter semi-automatic pistol, and in the other, a rifle. There was a bag

slung over his shoulder, which carried enough ammo to kill everyone inside, and then some. But before him, there were over 300 people still inside the next door. nightclub. However, to the gunmen, they weren't people. There were 300 targets he could take out his rage on, 300 people who had no idea the terrors that were about to unfold. And by the time anyone even laid eyes on him, it was already too late. The gunman was standing among them on the dance floor, with his assault rifle raised, his finger on the trigger. And at 202 a.m., he squeezed that trigger. At first, few people reacted. Many thought that the sound of gunfire was just a part of the music. One survivor Chris Hansen told WSEN, quote, I thought it was a yin-yang twist song or something.

It went with the beat, end quote. Even one of the DJs, Ray Rivera, believed that the sound was harmless at first. He thought that it could have been firecrackers outside, or maybe even the speaker wires misbehaving. But wanting to be sure, he turned down the music. music he was playing, and that's when he heard it loud and clear. Gunshots. He turned the music all the way down and screamed out to the crowd. Get out, get out. There's a guy with a gun. But for the people standing right in front of the gunmen, they had no time to react. And in an instant, a sea of people dropped to the ground. One of those people was Luis Sergio Vialma. Luis was just 22 years old, out for a fun night with his friends, Tony Marrero, and Laura.

of Argus. Laura was putting her ID away for the night. She had just gotten her last drink, a Heineken that she planned to finish with Louise. Louise was the type who always savored a last dance, and unfortunately, that night was no different. As Laura, Tony, and Louise walked away from the bar to enjoy the music blaring over the speakers, their world changed forever. Laura told NBC Miami, quote, I remember everything. I went around the corner and I saw the the man. He was reloading his gun. Before I could even touch the floor, he shot me, end quote. Laura crumbled to the ground, pain radiating through her from around that burrowed through her torso and exploded out her back. She fell to the floor breathless as screams and gunshots erupted

all around her. She wiggled her toes to make sure she wasn't paralyzed, and at times to keep herself awake and alive. But she didn't know where Luis was. She didn't know. She didn't know. know what had happened to him. Neither did her friend Tony. As soon as the gunshots erupted towards them, he too dropped to the ground. And around him, chaos unfolded. People ran in all directions looking for cover. Some still danced, unaware of what was happening. And then, there was no more denying it. Tony said he watched as, quote, people's bodies were blown apart right in front of him. Still far from the exit, he army crawled to a nearby couch, waiting through a seat. of bodies. There, he tucked himself under the couch and played dead, but that only worked for so long.

At some point soon after, Tony said that the shooter, quote, saw that I didn't have much blood, so he shot me in the back, end quote. Laura suffered that same fate. After lying on the ground for a few moments, wiggling her toes, she heard the gunman's footsteps growing closer. She told NBC, quote, that's when he came back and shot me again. And that's when I knew he wasn't just here to hurt people. He was here to kill people, end quote. Ultimately, both Tony and Laura would eventually make it out alive. But their friend Luis wasn't so lucky.

He was killed instantly by a single shot as he and his friends walked away from the bar, eager to soak in the last bit of joy the night had to offer. Luis wasn't just a person who enjoyed fun. He embodied it. His younger sister described him affectionately as a total goofball. He had graduated from Seminole High School in 2011 and Seminole State College in 2014. Soon after graduating, however, he re-enrolled, wanting to train as an EMT. In the meantime, he worked at Universal Orlando, where he operated the ride, Harry Potter,

and the Forbidden Journey. As a self-proclaimed Potterhead, it was a perfect fit for Louise and came with perks he could pass along to his younger siblings. He was the oldest of three, and throughout his life, he had taken on the role of a mentor within his family, with grace and excitement. Whenever there was a problem, his younger siblings went to him, and whenever they wanted to have some fun, they did too. A lot of the time that meant watching the movie White Chicks together on the couch while enjoying their mother's incredible tacos, a recipe passed down for generations. Luis would quote the movie, word for word, doing the voices, and even translating the lines into Spanish, so his parents could understand. That summer, he was looking forward to being his younger sister's

escort at her Cinderella-themed kinseniera. In fact, that very night, as he lay on the pole's floor, his mother and sister were in Mexico looking for a dress to buy. Tragically, Luis never got to escort his sister to her kinsenera. He never got to see her graduate. He never got to say goodbye. His sister remembers him as someone who left behind footprints of love and kindness everywhere he went. But his life path was cut short in an instant for no reason whatsoever. And sadly, his death was just the beginning of the carnage. As everyone began to realize that they were in the midst of a mass shooting, panic ensued. There was almost no time to react as people began to drop to the ground, one on top of the other.

Soon enough, the music and laughter of the night was replaced by whales of pain, confusion, and chaos. but some people still didn't know what was going on. Andy Moss told NBC News, quote, you're sitting there having a great time at a club, and then you hear what sounds like fireworks or balloons popping, and you assume it's part of the show, and then you hear people start screaming, and the sound doesn't stop, people start falling.

You realize it's not a show anymore, and at that point I realized I needed to get out, end quote. But there were hundreds of people all coming to that same realization, within just seconds of one another, and many didn't even know how to get out. Janelle Gonzalez told NBC, quote, there was no clear exit sign of the club, so we didn't know which door to take or where to go, end quote. Those who were familiar with the exits were flooded towards them on all sides of the building, unintentionally trampling anyone in their path. Fighter flight was in full effect. Janelle Gonzalez continued, quote, people were

screaming, help me, help me, I'm trapped. People were getting trampled. There were guys, some of them had gotten shot. There was blood all over the floor. I remember telling myself, this is not how I die. It's not today. This isn't really happening, end quote. But it was happening, and Janiel knew that if he didn't get out of the building, he was going to die. Luckily, he made it outside and quickly ran to a 7-Eleven nearby. But others never even got close to the door. Much like Luis, many on the dance floor found themselves eye to eye with the gunmen. And rather than run, some chose to fight for their loved ones. When the shooting began, 23-year-old Stanley Almodivar III was walking out of the bathroom at Pulse. He emerged onto a dance floor where some people

were still dancing, some people were running, and some were already on the floor, dead. He saw the flash of the muzzle to his side. And there, methodically peppering the room with bullets, was the shooter. Stanley could have turned right back into the bathroom. He could have hidden. He could have run for the door to save himself, but he didn't. When he saw the gunman, he didn't see a man. He saw a monster that had to be stopped, and he didn't hesitate.

Stanley raced through the crowd, shoving people to the ground out of the path of the wall of bullets. He yelled out at the shooter, drawing attention to himself, Hey, where are you going? As he tried to rush the shooter in an attempt to save dozens of lives, pushing himself in front of a female friend in the process, he was shot, once, twice, three times. A bullet lanced through his stomach, another grazed his side, and one sliced into his chest, dropping him to the floor. Stanley lay there, but he didn't lie there alone.

The friend he saved, who has remained anonymous, knelt by his side in the chaos as others raced for the doors. He grabbed her hand and told her, Call my mom. You have to call my mom. Call my mom. His voice grew weaker with every word. His friend immediately grabbed his phone and called his mother, Rosalia Ramos. Rosalia was dead asleep, 35 miles away in Claremont, Florida, when her ringing phone startled her out of her sleep. She answered it, only to hear a frantic voice on the other end, a voice she didn't recognize.

Rosalia told the Boston Herald, quote, She said, your son is here. You have to come, you have to come. She was crying. She tried to save my son. I said, where, why? Give me the address. End quote. Imagine for a moment waking up to that. Not just the news that your son has been in a shooting, but the sounds of him actively in one, the voice of a woman, a total stranger trying to save him, and you, miles away, unable to do anything for your child. Now whether Rosalia drove to pulse, or was even told that's where her son was, we don't know. But when the call ended, the girl who had called his mother sat at Stanley's side. She took off her shirt and pressed it to the wound on his chest, trying to stop the bleeding. All the while, more shots rattled off around them. She held Stanley's hand as he begged her, Don't let me go.

Please don't let me go. And she didn't. She stayed there through it all, all the way until he took his final breath. Stanley was just 23 years old, and if anything describes him as a person, it's him throwing himself in front of others and putting himself in danger just to do what was right. Born and raised in Springfield, Massachusetts, Stanley was always a brave, self-assured, honorable person. In the face of homophobia and a culture of machismo, he had no problem dyeing his hair every color of the rainbow, practicing bold, creative makeup styles, and openly discussing his experience as a gay man. He was a vibrant, fearless personality, an unashamed person whose final act was to protect

the community that he loved so dearly. His mother put it perfectly when speaking to the Boston Herald. He tried to save other people because he was a good boy. He was my son. Across the room at Pulse, about the same time that Stanley's life was taken, another mother found herself in a very different situation that night. She wasn't on the phone miles away. She was standing on the dance floor, watching as gunfire exploded towards

her son. Brenda Marquez McCool was a fighter. At 49 years old, she had battled cancer twice, first breast cancer, and then soon after, bone cancer, all while raising 11 children as a single mom. But as 2016 came about, Brenda found herself struggling with a new battle. Depression. Her son, 22-year-old Isaiah Hernandez, told the Stroud Courier, quote, I remember the day she came to me, breaking down about how depressed she was. Out of my 22 years of life, I've never seen her cry like that." But Isaiah offered his mom a solution. He knew she loved to dance, something she hadn't gone out to do in many years. So wanting to help his mom, Isaiah invited Brenda to go out with him. She was the type of woman who felt most at home when immersed in her Puerto Rican heritage. So she

took up salsa dancing, something she had loved all her life. And with every night out, with her son by her side, she felt more and more like herself. Her spark was back, and Brenda's spark was a hard one to miss. Everyone that knew her said she loved to laugh. She gave her children every part of herself, and at the same time, she allowed them to be who they truly were. When Isaiah came out to her, she didn't hesitate to become a fierce advocate for LGBTQ rights. Just two days before the shooting, Brenda posted on her Facebook, quote, While we teach our children all about life, our children teach us what life's all about. Embrace and courage, acknowledge, and love them unconditionally.

End quote. That nighted pulse, Brenda showed the real power of unconditional love. She was on the dance floor with Isaiah as the first shots rang out. When she saw the gun sweep towards her son, she snapped, get down. and she immediately threw herself in front of Isaiah, her back to the shooter, placing herself in the line of fire. Her sister-in-law Ada told CBS, quote, that's how much she loved her kids.

If it weren't for her, he would have been shot, end quote. Brenda didn't even give it a second thought, and though mortally wounded, she continued to fight for him. According to her niece, as she and Isaiah made their way towards the exit, Brenda began to struggle from blood loss. Isaiah slowed down trying to save his mom, but she pushed him forward, telling him go, just run. Isaiah did what he was told, and because of that, he survived. However, Brenda sadly dropped to the ground, and she would become one of the victims of this massacre.

And the wounds Isaiah carried from losing his mother that day ran deep. Here he is speaking at a memorial for her. My mom was the best son up there. I never thought that her life would be ended right in front of my eyes. I kept so positive that she was going to make it. Everybody who knew my mom knew she was the mom everybody wanted. She always took everybody in with open arms. She loved everybody equally.

No matter what, I just want to thank everybody for the support. Because she literally loved everyone. I wouldn't train my mom for the world. Near Brenda and Isaiah on the dance floor, 24-year-old Yolmarie Rodriguez Solivan was enjoying a much-needed night out. The 24-year-old had just recently. moved to Florida with her husband from Puerto Rico and had spent months settling into her new home with their two young children, including a three-month-old little boy. When her brother-in-law,

Will Borgias came for a visit, she and her best friend, Jonathan Antonio Vega, decided to take him out to show him a good time. Mary, as she'd like to be called, was described by her sister, Natalie as an amazing daughter and an extraordinary sister. She was the most loving and caring person you could ever meet. Her smile lit up the room and her laughter brought a smile to your heart. Before going out that night, Mary took a photo of that signature smile. It's a photo that should have been memorable for good reasons, not for bad. It was her first night out in a long time, her first night ever going to pulse. And tragically, it would be her last. When Gunfire broke out on the dance floor, Mary and her friend John didn't have time to react. Desperate to save her,

John threw himself on top of Mary, shielding her from the bullets. But sadly, neither of them made it. Both passed away. Their bodies were found hours later, with Jonathan still covering her from the gunfire that had long disappeared. When Mary's husband learned of her death and John's sacrifice, he posted on Facebook. I swear, my heart has a ladder tall enough to reach you both. Mary, you leave me with the pain that I never thought I would feel. Jonathan was nine days shy of his 25th birthday.

Like Mary, he had recently moved to Florida from Puerto Rico. For Jonathan, the move meant more possibilities to pursue his dream of being a television producer. And very quickly, those dreams were becoming a reality. Just a few weeks prior to the shooting, Jonathan got a job working for a children's singing competition show called LaVos Kids. He was hired as an assistant producer. Back home in Puerto Rico, his family was immensely proud of him. He was always known to pop in for surprise visits, and when he couldn't, he'd call his relatives. Sometimes he'd call his mom several times a day.

One of his professors would later say, quote, he always smiled, and he had those little holes in the side, his dimples. He didn't have a way of looking like the other students. He was always sparkling, end quote. Jonathan and Mary were two people, with a lot to be proud of, and a lot to look forward to. but neither of them got a chance at that future. Instead, they bled out on the floor of poles together. And sadly, the night of bloodshed had just begun.

The level of destruction in such a short amount of time is almost incomprehensible. Just seconds after the gunman entered the club and began to fire, off-duty Orlando Police Department detective, Adam Grueler realized that they were in an active shooter situation. Shots fired, 1912, South Orange Avenue, shots fired, multiple downs. All right, we got multiple down. I only got one officer here with me. I still have a subject inside. Continue to shoot.

I need people here now, guys. After Detective Grueler called for backup, he didn't waste a second. Immediately he started looking for the shooter. Instead, he saw two people running towards the south exit. Then just as quickly, he saw the gunman. Before Grueler could act, the shooter fired his gun at the two people trying to escape. They dropped to the ground just outside. Detective Grueler also saw the gun used to shoot them.

He knew instantly that his handgun was no match for the high-caliber rifle. But it didn't matter. He had to try. Grueler dove behind a vehicle and fired several rounds at the shooter, who was standing at the double doors with his weapon, continuing to murder as many fleeing people as he could. But the second the gunman realized someone was returning fire, he disappeared deeper into the club.

And from there, many more would lose their lives. 34-year-old Edward Sodomier Jr. Didn't think of himself when the gunshots rang out. He thought of his partner, Luis Rojas. The two had gone to the club that night to enjoy a night of dancing in a community that loved them. But with the night ticking down, Louise had gone outside to walk one of their friends to her car.

So Edward and Luis were apart when the gunshots went off, and chaos ensued. Inside, Eddie knew that he couldn't make it out the door, and he knew that if Luis tried to get back in, it might cost him his life. So while shots were fired all around him, he dared to take out his phone, illuminating himself to send Luis a text, telling him not to come back inside. The full text have never been released to the public, but Luis did as he was told. For the next 20 minutes, he sat outside helpless, hearing the gunshots going off in the club.

Soon enough, he received another text for Medi. It read, quote, I'm safe, I'm hiding. But as you'll see, staying hidden at Pulse was a challenge in and of itself. Tragically, Eddie was shot in his hiding place, somewhere near the dance floor. And the loss of him wasn't just a tragedy for Luis. It was a loss for the world, because Eddie had opened doors for people all his life. He worked as a dedicated brand manager for a gay travel agency called Alanchuck.Travel. He was well known throughout the Orlando area for helping others see the world as not just a brand manager, but a tour guide, turning travel into unforgettable vacations.

During the trips, he would wear a top hat so travelers could find him in a crowd and never feel lost. This earned him the nickname Top Hat Eddie, which he adored. He had worked tirelessly to coordinate gay cruises to areas where many people felt they couldn't travel safely, wanting to teach people how to be resolute and confident in who they were. The owner of the travel agency, Al Ferguson, told Orlando Weekly, For Eddie, travel was the ultimate freedom. But freedom required bravery. He was not afraid.

And therefore, he taught all of us, we won't be afraid. Before the shooting at Pulse, he had been working tirelessly to coordinate the first gay crews to Cuba, a groundbreaking venture that reflected both his ambition and dedication to the LGBTQ plus community. And Eddie had a personality as vibrant as the trips he planned. He loved everything sugary, sourpatch kids, chick-fil-a lemonade, and cherished his family deeply. His sister shared how, as a child, he convinced their mother to let them dance on a coffee table to straight up by Paula Abdul, complete with sunglasses and toy microphones. He carried that same energy with him all his life, breaking boundaries, sharing his personality with pride, and sharing his love with everyone who knew him.

Tragically, he was shot down after saving his partner by a man. who embodied the complete opposite of everything Eddie was. Following his death, his partner, Louise, posted on Facebook, My last moments with you. You mark my life forever. My heart will always have you present. You were a one-of-a-kind partner. Thank you for the laugh.

Thank you for the love. Thank you for the ride. Thank you for the joy. No matter where life takes me, your presence will never be forgotten. 364. Soon 365. The clock is ticking, but I know you're still here. always and forever every couple that was at pulse that night or had a partner at pulse was faced with

their own personal hell some like louise and eddie were separated by the chaos some cowered together terrified and others others were forced to try and keep their soulmate alive as gunshots rang out all around them two of those people were paula blanco and cori connell the couple had met while playing football together on a co-ed team in Orlando. And right away, they weren't the only ones rooting for their relationship. I met Corey. He was a quarterback, and his whole family just pushed him to, like, talk to me. We took Corey aside.

We're like, Corey, whatever you're doing, whoever you're doing with, stop and go talk to her, because she's the real deal. And because if you would have seen them instantly, the first day, you're like, there's something there. I've seen my brother, like, happy and smiling. But, like, when he was with her, she, like, I just, felt like another part of him came out. It was so cute. As you can tell, Corey was incredibly close with his family. And despite being a big buff football quarterback, studying sports and journalism, he always had a soft spot for his sisters. Not long before the shooting, he took time out of

his schedule to go shopping with his teenage sister, trying to help her find the perfect shoes for prom. When he discovered his older sister Amanda was pregnant with her first child, Corey was over the moon, excitedly dreaming about what it would be like to be an uncle. And Paula brought out that softness and love even more. As soon as they began dating, Corey gave her the nickname Sunshine. He even let her drive his car he named Eleanor, which according to Corey's loved ones, was the ultimate sign of love and trust. When Paula joined the Orlando Anarchy, a football team,

Corey was always there to support not just her, but her entire team. Here is Paula and one of her teammates discussing Corey's role on the team. He coached. He wouldn't miss a practice. He wouldn't miss a game. That's one of the things that got us even closer with football. From there, he was just part of the team. He was no longer just, you know, Paula's Corey. He was our Corey. Corey became not just a coach and not just a boyfriend, but a best friend to many on the team. So much so that after the season ended in the first week of June, the group decided to go to Pulse together for a night of fun.

Paula loved to salsa dance, and Corey was eager to learn from her. It just felt like a special night having him there with my teammates, dancing, have a great time. The group spent the whole night together, dancing until it was nearly closing time. Around 2 a.m., Paula stood by the front of the first. door, preparing to leave with Corey and a few of her teammates. But then another teammate nudged Paula. She asked her, you want to stay for this last song? Paula laughed and agreed.

Her friend Jaquie describes what unfolded just seconds later. I turned around to go grab my drink and to go start sacking the cups up and I just hear the, you know, five, you know, and I can turn around and just tell Paula, don't worry about it. It was just fireworks. And she's looking at me, her eyes right open, like, kind of scared. She's like, I just got shot. Paula was shot in the hand within seconds of the gunman entering the nightclub.

I just panicked. I could feel the bullets going across me. I could just feel them. And I was just ready. I was like, this is my time. I'm going to get hit any time now. And I just stuck. And the first thing I thought was,

Okay, I can't bleed out and I can't faint. So I grabbed my forearm really tight. Paula tightened her hand around her forearm, trying desperately to cut off some of the circulation to her hand to stop the blood that was gushing from the wound. That was enough of a problem. But then another problem unfolded in front of her. She watched in horror as Corey, the love of her life, fell to the ground.

Before Paula had a chance to react, Jaquit grabbed her by the other arm, ducking them both behind a nearby couch. There, the two lay down trying to hide from the shooter. All the while, Jaquille clenched her legs around Paula's arm, trying to fashion the only kind of tourniquet they could while playing dead. But Corey was just at Paula's feet, close enough to touch, close enough to find comfort in one another,

even as they lay on the floor, dead silent, listening to the sound of bullets, screams, and the maniac that had shot them reloading again and again. His head was where my feet were. so my feet would rub his head and he would rub my feet. There was a time when he just his head fell back and he stopped responding to my feet and that scared me even more. Everything about what happened at Pulse is utterly heartbreaking.

But there's something about that moment that is so human it makes you ache. We've all been in a situation in public where we give our partner a squeeze of the hand. And in that moment, on the moment, that filthy floor in a club turned war zone. Corey and Paula had that moment. Until suddenly, they didn't.

Paula couldn't get up and check on Corey. She couldn't tend to his wounds or verbally tell him she loved him. Because soon after Corey stopped responding to her touch, the shooter approached the couch. Both Jaquille and Paula held their breath. So when I saw him looking for a clip, I was relieved that it was almost over, that he was going to be done, you know.

And I saw him find one more in his pocket. And then that's when I heard him laugh. I can't believe those guys, like, laughing. After that, he just started shooting again and again and again. Soon after, the gunman left the dance floor, slipping into another part of the club. The pathway to the exit was open. They didn't know when the shooter would return.

But Jaqueen knew they couldn't wait, even as Paula was clouded by pain and on the verge of passing out. Jackie said, Paula, you need to get up. Corey needs help. And, you know, I couldn't move. My hand was just hurting. And she said, Paula, if you love Corey, get up. And that kind of like woke me up.

And we, I started walking and I saw Corey on the floor. And I was like, okay. And then Jackie helped him get up. out. I just threw his arm over my shoulder and kind of barely picked them up. And when we got outside, police officers put them in the back of the squad park. Both Corey and Paula were rushed to the hospital. Tragically, only one of them left alive. After a six-hour surgery to fix her mangled arm, Paula awakened, desperate to hear news about Corey. But the news that her brother-in-law and sister had for her

was the worst news she'd ever receive in her life. My brother-in-law, he came up to me and my sister on my side. And my brother-in-law on my left side in the bed, he was like, I'm sorry to tell you. And Corey didn't make it. And I just... broke down crying and I cried. I didn't, I told him that, you know, like, you're lying.

You're lying, it's not true. He made it. He's here. You guys are lying to me. And I just, I didn't believe it. It didn't sink in that Corey, my best friend, my boyfriend, the best person. in this world that I ever met was, you know, dead and that he wasn't going to come back.

Paula was devastated beyond words to learn of Corey's death, as was his family. The wake of the tragedy was unfathomable. Corey was just 21 years old, and his death left behind a hole that will never be filled. During Paula's first trip to his grave site, she etched into the dirt next to his headstone, Sunshine Loves You. To this day, she still struggles with the loss of the man she loved, who always pushed her to be her best. But there are parts of Corey and his love that still exist on this earth. His sister, Amanda, gave birth to the nephew he had been so excited to meet shortly after his death.

She named him Corey in honor of her little brother. And though he was taken too soon, his memory lives on in him. Inside Pulse that night, about the same time Corey was shot, hundreds of people struggled and ran towards the exits as people fell all around them. There was screaming, crying, pleads for help in the air that was being choked out by the thick smell of gunpowder. The smoke in the crowds made it nearly impossible for many to escape. But there was something else that made it challenging. One survivor Luis Burbano told KPBS, quote,

It was hard to leave the club. The floor was covered with drinks and blood, end quote. Another survivor Chris Hansen told NBC, quote, I just saw bodies going down, bang, bang, bang, end quote. Desperate to survive, Chris dropped to the ground and began crawling through the growing blood and bodies until he managed to reach an exit. In that short traumatic crawl, he stated he heard at least 50 gunshots. The entire time people trampled over him, crushing his back, his hands, and his legs,

as they stumbled in the direction of safety. Fortunately, Chris made it out. Others, however, weren't so lucky. 50-year-old Frankie Jimmy de Jesus Velazquez, unfortunately, was one of those people. Originally from Puerto Rico, Jimmy attended the Inter-American University of Puerto Rico in San Juan. During his time in Puerto Rico, he built a lucrative career as a professional dancer with Habaro de Puerto Rico, a group that danced to folk music that was made popular by the island's peasant farmers. In 2006, he moved to Orlando, seeking more opportunities than a better

life. There, he worked passionately as a visual merchandiser for Forever 21, a job that he loved. One of his coworkers stated that everyone wanted to be around him, especially his nieces and nephews back in Puerto Rico. Despite there being 20 of them, Jimmy, as he liked to be called, took the time every single week to call each one of them and catch up, let them know he loved them, and send them well wishes for the week ahead. It was a highlight for them. Not just because Jimmy was outgoing and funny, but because he was insightful and gave great advice.

Only a few hours before the Pulse Massacre, he posted a quote that in English translated to, When you lose, don't lose the lesson. A well-known quote attributed to the Dalai Lama. On June 11th, Jimmy went out dancing with Carlos and Christian, his two best friends. Carlos told CNN that they were often called the three a means. because they were always together, and that night was no different.

As the shooting began, the three were together on the dance floor. They all looked at one another when the DJ yelled out that there was someone with the gun. But before they could react, madness unfolded all around them. Here's Christian speaking about what happened next. And then the lights went off. It was so dark, and I can see the people falling dead in front of me. I can see everything was everybody there. everybody was like a killing a massacre or something like that.

As bodies fell all around them, Carlos dragged Christian and Jimmy to the ground to avoid the onslaught. The group was far away from an exit, so Carlos told his friends that they needed to crawl to the nearby bathroom. He grabbed both of them by the shirt, dragging them alongside him. But as they neared the bathroom, Carlos lost his grip on Jimmy. Jimmy was frozen in place. laid face down playing dead on the floor. From the bathroom, Carlos panicked looking for him. I was looking for Jimmy, and I could fight it as a Jimmy where you are, Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, but everybody was screaming and I was trying to fight for Jimmy.

And when I looked back, that's when I saw that everybody was getting there. He was shooting the people on the floor. Jimmy never made it into the bathroom, into hiding. For the rest of the night, he laid there on the floor. Carlos and Christian had no idea whether their friend was dead or alive. Yet, as the minutes ticked by, they watched in horror as blood seeped under the closed bathroom door. Later on, when they were finally able to emerge from the bathroom, Carlos saw Jimmy in the same position where he had left him, except he wasn't playing dead. When I get out, I was looking for Jimmy, and I saw him dead at the floor.

Jimmy was 50 years old. He was the oldest person to die in the pulse shooting. One of his relatives later posted on social media, what happened in Orlando affects all of us because it is an act of hate against the freedom to be who you are. I'm trying not to fall prey to hate at the person who killed you, at the gringoes, at Trump, at the terrorists, because then I would be a part of the vicious circle of judge and jury.

They killed you out of hate for the freedom to be who you are, and it makes me hurt inside, because if there was anyone who always had a smile, who helped me, who was carrying with me, my music and my madnesses, it was you. Jimmy had tried to escape. He had tried to make it back to the people who loved him. Sadly, in the crowd, it was impossible.

So much of what happened that night depended on just two factors, where you were when the shooting began, and where you went before the gunmen could reach you. Some victims, on the opposite side of the club from where the shooter entered, were able to run out onto the patio, guided by the head of security, Neil Whittleton. He yelled out to people over the gunshots, follow me, let's go. As they burst out onto the patio, escaping the haze of gunpowder, they faced a different problem, a tall fence

surrounding the patio. It was put in place so people couldn't just sneak into the club through the patio, but now it was blocking the men. Neil wasted no time. He kicked a hole in the fence. He kicked a hole in the fence and quickly ushered an estimated 20 people to safety in a nearby parking lot. As soon as they emerged, they found themselves in a swarm of police. This was just two minutes after the shooting began. Police had arrived on scene 90 seconds after the initial signal 43 was broadcasted by Detective gruehler. The exterior of pulse was illuminated by a sea of red and blue lights. Officer Connery Reynolds was one of the first officers to arrive on scene. He whipped his car into the street on the south side of Pulse

and took cover behind a vehicle to assess the situation. At 204 a.m., Detective Grueler radioed, quote, We've got multiple down. I only have one officer here with me. I still have a subject continuing to shoot. 22 seconds later, the gravity of the situation was too much. This was no longer the time for calm, reserved orders, and codes over the radio.

He signaled again, this time. snapping. He's still firing. He's so fired, we didn't more people here now, multiple shots. He got his salt rifle. He got a cell rifle. Sadly, before the officers would breach the building, more people would lose their lives. Minutes earlier, when the gunfire broke out, Adrian Lopez, his husband, Javier Nava, and their best friends Peter Gonzalez-Cruz and Gilberto Ramon-Silva-Manendez were in the middle of a last dance. When they realized the gunfire was real, they scattered, all becoming separated from one another in the crowd. Adrian managed to follow the crowd out of a nearby exit, but then when he looked around,

he realized Javier was gone. He didn't think twice about the danger. He didn't care about the shooter. All he cared about was being by Javier's side. So he rushed back inside. You went back in to look for your husband? Yeah. How long were you outside for?

It was seconds. I just would have. looked around real quick and then I just went back inside. But when Adrian re-entered, there was no way to find Javier. Two lights, a neon green party light and a disco ball,

were the only things illuminating the smoke-filled room, aside from the flash of a muzzle. With no other option, Adrian retreated, returning outside. He's still shooting up people. So that's when I just went back

outside. And then what did you do after that? I walked towards the street and a lot of people were telling me how you're being shot because since I have blood on me but I didn't notice at the time and they were telling me what happened what happened how you being shot have you been shot and I just kept them walking towards a fire station and that's when the cops they just try to call me down for several hours adrian paced outside waiting in desperation to see if Javier was still alive he searched for their friends peter Gonzalez Cruz and Gilberto Ramon Silvia Menendez, but neither of them had made it out yet.

So on the sidewalk, he waited alone. Unbeknownst to him, Javier was still inside, hiding in an office, bleeding from a wound in his side. With every passing minute, it seemed more and more likely that Javier was dead, until finally police began to evacuate people. And that's when Adrian saw the most incredible sight of his life. I stood by the corner to make sure that I saw my husband if he got out. My husband was the second group that got out, and I think that was the last one. And from there, when I saw my husband coming out, I got super happy that I saw him. I ran towards him, and then all the cops started coming up to us until I was like,

you can't be next to him, you can't be next to him. And then they separated me, and he told me that he was fine, but I saw he was shot. I was comfortable that he told me he was okay. I stuck to my gut and I, you know, stay calm and I told myself that he was going to be okay. Fortunately, Javier made a full recovery. The same, unfortunately, couldn't be said for their friends, 22-year-old Peter Gonzalez Cruz and 25-year-old Gilberto Ramon Silva Menendez. Peter, also known as Ami, grew up in Orlando and attended Liberty Middle School and Colonial High School.

He was outgoing, joyful, and full of energy. He worked at UPS, and even his customers said there was never a time he didn't have a smile on his face. He was accepting of everyone, embracing people for who they were without judgment. His aunt, Sonia Cruz, told the Lompuk record, Peter makes a difference everywhere he goes. He was a happy person. If Peter is not at the party, no one wants to go. His friend, Gilberto, originally from Puerto Rico, had moved to Orla, Orlando and worked at Speedway to support himself as he worked towards a degree in healthcare

management and also worked as a St. Bernard Fancy. He had many nicknames, Hunhoon, Gaviota, and Cooley, and was extremely popular. His mother, Marley Menendez, told the Orlando Sentinel, my son belonged to everyone. My house was always full and is still full of his friends that come and visit. I couldn't keep track of how many people knew him and loved him so much. He was a hard person not to love. He was a ball of energy, always radiating his passion for dancing, music, and life in general. Tragically, that life was taken from him. Though his vibrant personality shown even after his death, in honor of him, no one wore black to his funeral. Instead, loved ones chose bright colors to reflect the joy, warmth, and light he brought into their lives, a final tribute

to the spirit that defined him. Dressed in every color of the rainbow, they danced to Puerto Rican music, some of the same music that had been playing that night when Gilberto and Peter took their final breaths together. Gilberto and Peter's friend Javier was able to escape because he hid. Now, as we mentioned earlier, when the gunfire first broke out, people rushed towards the exits. With the sheer number of people trying to escape, the gunmen had a whole crowd of people to shoot at. The people at the back of that crowd were the first ones to go down. Seeing this, other people around the building realized that, running outside wasn't an option for them. So instead, they started looking for a place to hide.

Some hid behind the bar, others behind furniture around the room. But there were three other places where the majority of people hid. Behind one door was a dressing room. Behind the other was the south bathroom. And then finally, the north bathroom. In a moment where your life is on the line, no one stops to think which of these rooms is the safest. The victim simply saw a door, opened it, and ran inside. But tragically, in just a few minutes, behind one of these doors, over a dozen bodies would be piled on top of one another, while the majority of victims and the other two rooms would make it out alive. It was all a game of chance. Some people were lucky, some people were not. Behind the door of the dressing room, people desperately tried to hide

from the barrage of gunfire. Some curled up beneath dressing tables, others hid behind a makeshift changing curtain. When bartender Michael Belvedere raced inside, he initially thought there were five people on the room, but ultimately there were eight. Everyone was so well hidden that it took him some time to realize who was in there, and that mere feet from him was one of his closest friends and co-workers. Hiding behind the curtain was drag performer Angelica Jones. For Angelica, Pulse hadn't just been a place of safety. It had been an opportunity to make something of herself in a world that she felt despised her. Angelica transitioned into a woman in the mid-90s. Now, acceptance as a trans person can be challenging to find, but back in the 90s, that struggle was tenfold. She told Billboard that she

struggled to find work, and, quote, I had the option of either doing this or being a sex worker, and I thank God that I had individuals that were actually out there and knew that wasn't the plan for me. They pretty much told me, girl, you don't need to be out here, get back to the club and get on stage, End quote. Angelica then began to perform in drag and soon became a fixture in Orlando's club scene. When Pulse opened in the early 2000s,

it was a big part of allowing her to be herself and to support herself without having to change who she was. But that night, just after 2 a.m., she found herself hiding behind a curtain in the dressing room, listening to the screams and gunfire.

Devoutly spiritual, she prayed over and over. God, shield us as much as you can. Meanwhile, she and the other seven cowering inside the room were forced to listen to the destruction of the community they loved so dearly. Michael told Billboard, I remember at one point I heard some really blood-curdling screams from some girls who were out there. It sounded like a horror movie.

It just didn't sound real. I thought someone was playing a joke on us. It wasn't real. The screams were something out of a horror movie. I guess people tried running for it. I heard what I thought was a police officer by the way he was talking to them. He was yelling at them like, get down, motherfucker, put your hands down.

To me, it was something a cop would say, like, put your cell phone down, turn the light off. He kept calling them a motherfucker over and over. So for me, I was relieved because I thought it was the police, but it turned out to be the shooter. And that's another horrifying part of the story. At times, while the gunman shot up the dance floor, he was eerily silent, not saying a word.

At other times, he laughed, and mixed in between it were all the hate-filled commands. lobbed at the people at the end of his gun. The people in the dressing room had no idea what was going on outside. No idea if the gunman was coming for them. While they waited in silence, the bartender Michael hovered by the door, holding a chair over his head. He planned to strike the shooter if he tried to step inside the room. At times, they heard his footsteps creeping closer and closer, and then they'd fade away, and there they remained, waiting for three hours, three long hours of listening to gunshots, to screams, to the whales of people taking their last breaths. Until finally,

police managed to remove an exterior AC unit in the room, creating a small exit with just enough room for the eight survivors to slip out. On the 16th, four days after the shooting, Angelica made a public statement while performing again for the first time. Quote, don't take life for granted or your freedom. Freedom comes with a price, and we never realize how many people had to fight for us, just to have a choice. And when somebody tries to attack that, well, that is the true definition of a demonic spirit. End quote.

Outside of the dressing room, two people were lying on the floor. 34-year-old Shane Evan Tomlinson and his friend, 26-year-old A.m. Angel Cologne. When the shooting began, the two ran for the door along with their friend, Jason Gonzalez. When Jason emerged outside into a cool, clear night, he turned around and made the horrific realization that neither Angel nor Shane were behind him. They were still somewhere on the dance floor, and the gunshots were growing louder. Here's Angel telling his story during a press conference. We just grabbed each other. We started running, and unfortunately, I was shot about three times in my leg, so I had fallen down. I tried to get back up, but everyone started running

everywhere. I got trampled over. Both Shane and Angel lay on the floor, leading out from wounds they had sustained in the first round of shooting. Angel desperately tried to claw his way to his feet as people ran over him, charging towards safety, but just as he was about to get to his feet, He felt someone else's feet crashed down on his legs and his back. I remember over the screams, I hear love snap. And I remember I felt the most excruciating pain I've ever felt as my leg is being broken. All Angel could do was lie there as the pain radiated up his legs into his stomach extending through every part of him. As the room cleared out, the shooter peeked into a nearby room, giving them a moment of respite.

Shane and Angel both thought that maybe for a moment they'd be safe, that someone would tackle the gunman, that he would move on to the other room. On the dance floor, no one was standing. There were just piles of bodies everywhere. But tragically, the gunman would come back in their direction and unleash another wave of bullets onto people who were already dead. But unfortunately, I hear him come back and he's shooting everyone that's already dead on the floor, making sure they're dead.

The gunman walked slowly around the dance floor he had just terrorized, shooting person after person, execution style. Angel described the sound of the shooting, which had seconds earlier been fast and frantic. However, now it had slowed down to a methodical rhythm, one that was slowly moving closer and closer to him. And I just start, I'd say here, I'm pops again, but this time it was slow. pop pop pop angel reached out and grabbed the hand of a stranger who had fallen beside him he whispered to her under the sound of gunfire it's going to be okay he began to pray raised an evangelical angel said he had strayed from the church in recent years but in that moment he reconnected with his faith he told god he was sorry he had lost his way and that he wanted to come back. He told God that he didn't want to die there

and that he wanted to do good things with his life. As he soaked in his prayers and squeezed the hand of a stranger beside him, he heard the footsteps of the shooter mere feet away. I was able to peek over and I can just see him shooting at everyone. And I can hear the shotguns closer and I look over and he shoots the girl next to me. And I'm just there laying down, I'm thinking, I'm next, I'm dead. So I don't know how, but by the glory of God, he shoots towards my head, but it hits my hand. And then he shoots me again, and it hits the side of my hip.

I had no reaction. I was just prepared to just stay there, laying down, so he won't know that I'm alive. As Angel was shot in the hand and hip, he didn't dare move. Tears of pain welled in his eyes, but he sat there, motionless. He later described it as if, quote, the Lord was just holding me, end quote. And there he remained playing dead. But mere feet away from him, his friend Shane Tomlinson wasn't so lucky.

Despite being just 34 years old, Shane had lived a miraculous full life. Born in Queens, New York, he moved to North Carolina at a young age and graduated from East Carolina University with a degree in communications. There was one way in particular that Shane liked to communicate with others by singing. Shane was in a top 40 style band called Frequency, and he played at clubs and at weddings. When he wasn't singing with frequency, he was singing with the joyful choir of Orlando. When he wasn't performing with either of them, he took to modeling, which he excelled at. Photos taken of him were used all around the world in advertising, and he worked hard to keep up his physique in order to book as many roles as possible. It's something that his friends frequently joked about in interviews, because if there was one thing he loved more than singing, it might have been eating.

In more than one interview, his friends made comments to the effect of, the man could eat. And with what his family was cooking up, it'd be hard not to. His favorites were his family's mac and cheese and a rose con gondulis of Puerto Rican rice. His friend, Victoria Larkin, told the Orlando Sentinel, he was someone that could walk in the room and light you up with his personality. He was the type of person who lived his life to the fullest and who shared that light with absolutely anyone he encountered. Sadly, that day at Pulse, his life was taken. Now by this point, we are still just minutes into the shooting.

Outside of Pulse, officers Richard Fink, Felix Santiago, and Anne Miss Lang arrived on scene. Officer Miss Lang had a high-calibre gun, so she took the lead. From here, the four officers moved towards the east patio entrance of the club, while more officers arrived from the OPD SWAT team, the Bell Isle Police Department, and the Orange County Sheriff's Office. Inside, surveillance footage showed the shooter moving between the main dance floor, in the West Bar area where he continued shooting people. He had one goal in mind, and he wasn't going to stop until it was finished.

But when officers got closer, the shooter retreated deeper into the club. Now, they had lost sight of him. One group of officers entered through the east patio, while the other entered through the south side. But still, no one had eyes on the gunmen. However, as officers stepped inside, the scene in front of them was something they'd never be able to forget. The only light in the room came from the glow of a colored disco ball,

but in that small bit of light, they saw just how deadly the shooting had been. One officer described the floor inside as, quote, littered with lifeless bodies stacked on top of each other, end quote. Under the bodies, they could see pools of blood that were spreading by the second. And despite being in the midst of a shooting, The officers couldn't ignore how eerily quiet it was around the room. Most of the people in front of them were already dead, but there were survivors talked all around,

people who had been shot multiple times, yet these people didn't dare make a sound. However, when the officers stepped onto the dance floor and announced their presence, they began to see little flickers of movement. Some victims crawled out of their hiding spots, only to be confronted with the end of another. gun, except this time they were the good guys. Over the next few minutes, officers worked to bring

the injured to safety. Here is a portion of a body cam with first responding officers who had just entered the main dance floor. One by one the injured were taken outside, but sadly, they were the minority. Most of the people on the dance floor were long gone. There were so many bodies laying on the ground. After seeing the carnage, one officer was caught on body camp. And, saying this. They were standing in a graveyard of people who less than 20 minutes ago were having the time of their lives.

One of those people was 24-year-old Christopher Joseph San Feliz. Christopher was from Tampa. He and his friends loved Disney and would always walk around singing songs from their favorite movies at the top of their lungs. According to Christopher's childhood friend Nicole,

he absolutely loved his life. She recalled one story from 2014, where the two were watching a meteor shower on the beach. Christopher was completely in awe. With each falling star, he would call them his diamonds, and then he would make a wish. And that became a thing of his.

With everything he loved in life, he called it his diamonds. Over time, he even started referring to all of his friends as my diamonds. And on June 12th, He was in Orlando to support one of his diamonds, his best friend, Caesar de la Rosa. That week, Caesar had tried out for The X Factor in Miami. Christopher had driven him all the way down and back, without air conditioning in his car.

That was the kind of friend he was, and tonight they were celebrating his success. But sadly, Christopher wouldn't make it out alive. He died inside Pulse, surrounded by his diamonds. Now, whenever his loved one see a shooting star, he's the first thing that comes to their minds. His friend Caesar wrote a song in his honor. He will never forget what Chris did for him, not just that day, but always. Here is a snippet of that song titled Chris. And if you think that I will soon forget you, you just hold on to this truth.

You're the fountain of my youth You keep me living And now for a brief ad break Anyways y'all, let's get back to the show While officers scanned the floor for survivors And the dark corners of the club for the shooter Just down the hall, Nearly 40 people struggled to stay silent

As they hid in two sets of restrooms In the south restroom, around a dozen people squished together Many of them crammed together in a large handicapped stall people sat up on the toilet, braced themselves against the wall. Others lay on the floor, beneath bodies as the people around them, many of whom had already been shot on the dance floor, began to lose consciousness. Angel Santiago and his best friend, Jeff Gonzalez, were two of the last people to rush into the bathroom.

Angel's heart was pounding. They had both been at the bar when the shooting began. They had hoped they'd be able to squeeze into the handicapped stall, but there was no room. Desperate, Angel sank beneath the sun. sink, coiling his six-foot-two frame as tightly as he could beneath the porcelain. Beside him, Jeff did the same. They waited there, listening to the sound of screams radiating from the dance floor.

And then, silence. Slowly, footsteps began to move towards the south bathroom. The time was 206. Police had just breached through the entryway. But tragically, the shooter started in their direction. Angel then pulled out his phone and began to record as he heard the footsteps approaching. Here's the video that he took as he hid beneath the sink. Quiet.

Angel tried to silence the chatter in the bathroom. The footsteps got closer. And then it happened. What everyone had been dreading. Bullets exploded into the restroom. The shooter had propped open the door for just a moment, and he fired his gun all throughout. Disturbingly, as he held the,

trigger, he laughed. Through the sound of the bullets colliding with porcelain, with plaster, with bodies, everyone in the room heard it, the glee of the man mowing them down. His bullets ripped through the bathroom partition, slicing into the stall, and burrowing into the flesh of some of the innocent people inside. Many did not survive. Moments before the gunmen opened the door, some survivors recalled that a man had run inside the bathroom, trying to find a hiding spot. Here is Survivor Norman Cassiano, recounting what happened to that man

in the documentary 49 pulses. We went in the men's side of the stalls. Someone came running in and slid right under, and we were trying to get him to come under, and he's begging, like, please, please, please, pull me under, pull me under, I don't want to die. And the guy came in, and that's when I received shrapnel damage on my foot

and on my right leg, and I just started seeing blood, and that's when it really became real. He just killed someone in front of me. Yet, after the gunman shot into the bathroom, he left, closing the door behind him, leaving a number of his victims bleeding out. Near the sink, Angel Santiago felt searing pain radiate through his foot and knee,

one bullet bore into his knee, burning away his skin and slicing through the delicate muscles there, another sunk into his foot, shattering the bones in his heel. But Angel didn't move. Blood seeped through his jeans, pooling on the floor below him, and still he didn't move.

After that initial burning sensation, the pain was gone. The shock took hold, and all he felt was a wave of exhaustion. His thoughts, the room around him, it all began to move in slow motion. Beside him, his best friend Jeff Rodriguez,

struggled to stay conscious. Blood gushed from a wound in his collarbone. Angel could see that he was barely holding on. He shook Jeff, repeating to him, you have to stay awake. You can't fall asleep, Jeff. But Jeff was awakened by another sensation. Beside him, another woman was cowering. She was covered in blood. Her eyes fluttered and she repeated over and over, I don't want to die. Then, the woman slumped over. She landed on Jeff. Her body splayed across him. as she took her final breaths.

Angel told Tampa Bay times that he thought to himself, quote, I watched her die. I just literally watched her die. For the others in the restroom, they said the smell of gunpowder and blood was all consuming. Angel could taste it on his tongue. He could feel it warm and sticky on his legs, soaking through his clothing.

He waited, listening to the whimper of the wounded all around him. Part of him was waiting. for what he thought was the inevitable, the shooter coming back in and finishing them off. But luckily for the people in the room, the steps moved away. The gunmen had disappeared

into the north restroom across the small hallway, but the silence was overwhelming. Angel clung to the pipes on the sink, trying to keep himself awake. He needed help. Jeff needed help. Everyone in the restroom needed help. Someone had to go get it.

And so slowly, Angel began to pull his mangled body through the restroom and whispered tones. Others warned him not to go. But Angel wasn't willing to risk the weight. He dragged himself out of the bathroom, down the hall, over shattered glass, spilled drinks, and the blood of people he knew and loved. Until finally, a voice startled him. Hands up! Angel looked up to see a gun pointed at his face.

But it wasn't the gun of the shooter. It was an officer. The officer instructed him to lift up his shirt to prove he wasn't the gunman. Angel did as he was told. The pain starting to come back to his numb body and penpricks. Once they confirmed he wasn't the shooter, he was ordered by the officers to move to the exit. Angel tried to drag himself to the door. But before he could get there, two officers grabbed him by either side of his armpits and dragged him out into the fresh air.

He told them that people were shot in the restroom. They needed help. They assured him they knew and that they'd take care of it. But inside the south restroom, the victims weren't so sure. If you recall, Angel's friend Jeff was still hiding beneath the sink. He had been shot in the collarbone, and his consciousness was fading fast. Certain that he was going to die, he began to text his brother Santiago. Miles away, Santiago was awakened by his vibrating.

phone. The first text read at 2.25 a.m. I've been shot at club dying. I love you. Less than a minute later, another text. Dead bodies on top of me. Tell everyone I love them. Poppy, mommy, Mary. At first, his brother Santiago was so horrified that he tricked himself into thinking it was a joke. He texted Jeff back. Very funny. Moments later, Jeff responded, Not a joke, Santee.

Then came a photo of Jeff's view. Bodies coiled together. Blood smeared across the floor. Some people cowering. Other people dead. Santiago immediately Googled Pulse Nightclub. And the first thing he saw was a post made by the club itself on Facebook at 209 a.m. It read, everyone get out of Pulse and keep running.

Here is Santiago telling ABC how he felt in that moment. And my heart just literally, it just, like, it was broken. I was just like, my gosh, he was reaching out to me, and I thought it was a joke this whole time. Santiago went and woke up their parents to tell them the news. Together, they cried. Soon, Jeff stopped texting. Miles away, they assumed the worst.

But in the bathroom, people by Jeff's side worked their hardest to keep him alive. An unnamed friend put pressure on his wounds. And miraculously, he would sort of. survived the night. But out of the dozen or so people in the room, six would ultimately lose their lives. While the people inside waited for help to arrive, calls began to flood dispatch. So many came at once that the lines were overwhelmed. Survivors clinging to life begged for help. Outside, they could hear the static of police radios on the dance floor, but they didn't know if police knew they were there, or if they were coming at all. Here are several snippets of 911

calls that came in from people hiding inside the restrooms. Police emergency and the taxi are your calls recorded. Okay, tell me what, did you see the shooter inside of the club? No, but they're talking. What are they saying? Can you make out the words? Quiet, don't move. If we are in the bathroom, we've been waiting like they told us. Someone is coming in here.

We have four people that are deceased, and we have two people that are shot that are getting We have another guy that's on the line as well. We're getting help to you. Where are they? I don't understand. Everyone's getting worse. Where are they? They're trying to make the way to you.

They have not just the room where you guys are. We are trying to make it through the building, but they're trying to get to everyone as quickly as they can. She is right here. I'm telling you she's bleeding and she's shot. Okay, let me get you over to the Florida, or the fire department. They're going to have you give first aid. Stay on the line so we can give her first aid. I want my family to know.

I want your family to know what? And it wasn't just victims calling in. As people began to text and call their loved ones, some just desperate to tell them they loved them one last time. Parents, friends, partners, and even children of those trapped inside Pulse began to call 911. Around the same time, a father called after receiving a panicked call from his son who was hiding in one of the bathrooms. By this point, as the calls flooded in,

police were standing inside poles. They were on the dance floor. It was about 2.16 a.m. After shooting up the south bathroom, the shooter retreated into the north bathroom on the other side of the hallway, closing the door behind him. The sound of gunfire stopped.

The only thing that could be heard was the crunching glass beneath law enforcement's feet, the slosh of booze and blood that covered the ground. And horrifically, the screams of the victim radiating from the bathrooms, which police had yet to reach. Now the Pulse nightclub shooting has two distinct phases. Phase one is everything we've mentioned so far. But we are about to cover phase two, which is one of the most frustrating parts of this story.

Because even though police were on scene within minutes, the night was far for. over. You see, after shooting up the south bathroom, the shooter retreated to the north bathroom. It was on the other side of the hallway, and he closed the door behind him. Inside, 20 victims hid in the stalls. The police knew they were in there, but as soon as that door closed, the active shooter situation turned into a hostage situation. It was 2.18 a.m. For the victims trapped inside the bathroom with the gunmen, they could hear the police outside the door. In fact, by that point, there were over 100 officers on scene. But between them and that help was a madman. Now two of the people hiding in that stall have provided the public with the most insightful

information on what happened inside. Earlier that night, before the shooting even started, three friends made their way inside the club. Their names were Tiara Parker, Patience Carter, and Akira Murray. Just weeks earlier, Akira Murray had graduated third in her class from West Catholic Preparatory High School in Philadelphia. She had earned every second of joy and laughter on the dance floor that night. She'd been on the honor roll every single quarter throughout her entire school experience all the way up from elementary school. She didn't just get good grades either. On her high school basketball team, she scored over a thousand points for her team from freshman to senior year setting a school record. And all of that effort she had put in.

in was about to pay off. She had earned a full scholarship to play and study at Merseyshurst University in Erie, Pennsylvania. And to celebrate her achievement, her parents took her on a trip to Florida for a vacation. With her was her best friend, Patience Carter, and her cousin, Tiarra Parker. The trip was supposed to mark an exciting new chapter in her life, a few weeks where she could unwind with her favorite people before her college experience ahead. So, that night, after getting dressed up, the trio made their way to Pulse for a fun night. At the door, Akira and Tiarra each paid the cover charge. It was $10 a person. But just as Patience was about to pay, a woman offered to let her in as their plus one, allowing her to

slip in for free. It was a small gesture, but it showed the generosity and sense of community that filled Pulse that night. Patience told NBC, quote, it was just the friendliest people ever. That was the overall atmosphere of pulse when we were there." The three immediately hit the dance floor, and for a group of 18-year-olds, it was just about as much fun as you could have. For the very first time people are treating you as an adult, and it's just you, your girls, and the music. Tiara said, quote, everyone was having a ball. They loved us. We loved them. We had the time of our lives, end quote. Patients went on to add, quote, we were sure we were going to pulse every single night of our vacation, because that's how

much fun we were having, end quote. So much fun that not only did they plan to go the next day, right there on the dance floor, but they decided to close the club down and stay until just before closing. At 158 a.m., just minutes before the shooting began, Tiara pulled up her Uber app and hit confirm on her ride. But the second her finger hit the button, the night changed, and she was left wondering if she would ever get home. When the first round of gunshots erupted beneath the music, panic surged through the crowd, consuming everyone whole. Tiara didn't see where the gunshots were coming from. Her primal instinct just told her one thing. Get to safety and get there now. She dove behind the bar for cover. However, patients' car car

and Akira Moray ran outside. They were somehow able to make it out, thinking that the worst of their nightmare was over. But when they looked around, they saw that Tiara wasn't with them. Here is Patience in the documentary 49 pulses. When I see Akira, I see Tierra's not with her, so I'm just like, well, like, instantly, like, where is she?

She's inside, okay, like, you got to go, get her. Without hesitation, patients and Akira fought through the crowd of fleeing people to go back towards danger, all in a bid to save their friend. Parting the frenzied people, they saw her squatting by the bar frozen in place. They grabbed her and pulled her to her feet, but by then the exits were swamped. The crowd swarmed through the club like one writhing mass, knocking people over, consuming them, and trampling them. At this point, everyone had one thing in mind, survival.

And when the trio saw other women racing for the bathroom, they saw what may have been their last chance to make it through the night. They followed a group of people inside seeking safety, but little did they know, they had just walked through the door that the shooter would barricade himself behind for hours. Over the next few minutes, Patience, Akira and Tiara, along with nearly 20 others, hid inside that single bathroom stall

as the shooter fired hundreds of rounds of ammunition throughout the club. Once the stall was full, the people who couldn't fit had to hide under the sinks, praying that the gunmen wouldn't come inside. The entire time, everyone was doing their best to stay quiet. Occasionally, someone would start crying. A collective sh would be heard around the room. They had to hold back their sobs, because if the gunmen heard them, he would come for them next. Every pause in the gunfire made the collective group hold their breath. Until soon, they heard footsteps coming closer. Tiara Patience and Akira, along with the other clubgoers, braced themselves against the wall, trying to come up with a plan.

Outside the bathroom door, the gunman was pacing, muttering to himself. Tiara heard him say, quote, Damn, my guns jammed. At that, the girls locked eyes with one another. They were fighters, and as soon as they made eye contact, it was clear they were all thinking the same thing. Now was the time to rush him. Tiara and Patience pitched the idea to the group,

but the others in the stall didn't agree. They thought rushing him was too dangerous. Surely it would get them all killed. But the girls weren't so sure. Cowering in the stall, they felt like sitting ducks. And when they heard the gun reload, they knew they had lost their chance. Seconds later, the gunman burst into the bathroom

and kicked open the stall door. From there, he unloaded his weapon onto the crowd of people cowering inside. Patience, Tiara, and Akira were shot multiple times, along with many others in the stall. Seconds earlier, everyone was standing, packed shoulder to shoulder, but now they were all on the ground, piled on top of one another and bleeding from their gunshot wounds. Some people were killed instantly. Others were alive, barely clinging on. They held their breath and waited desperately for the gunmen to leave, but he didn't move. The firing stopped. The shooting had been horrific, but this moment, it sucked all the air out of the room. The person who had just

unloaded his weapon onto them wasn't leaving. He was standing right on the other side of the stall. Tiara Patience and Akira laid on the floor of the bathroom, along with the 20 others. Tiara would later say, quote, there was blood all over the floor. We were so scared. Everybody was so injured and so hurt and in so much pain. End quote. Many of the victims inside the stall played dead. Tiara told CBS, quote, I just laid flat, my face and blood and all. I just laid there, end quote. And then to her horror, she watched as the gunman crouched down, putting his head underneath the stall to look inside. Tiara froze. He was less than a foot away from her. She didn't breathe. She didn't blink. She just laid there, her eyes open, trying to make it seem as though

that's how she died. She later recounted, quote, right then and there I knew my life was over. I wasn't accepting death, but I was going to have to. It was a forced thing. I was going to have to accept it, because there was no way I was getting out of there. I thought, if I have to go, at least I'm with two people I really care about, end quote. But then to her relief, for lack of a better word, the gunman stood back up. Tiara remained there, lying in blood. Beside her, patients grabbed Akira's hand. They had all been shot, but Akira was declining fast. With shaking hands, she took out her cell phone to call her mom. She whispered into the phone, trying to hide her voice from the gunman, who was still just on the other side of the stall. When her mother answered the phone, nothing could have prepared

her for her daughter's voice on the other end. She later told ABC that her daughter cried to her, Mommy, please help me. I'm bleeding so bad. Please help me. Call the cops. From a bullet wound in her arm, Akira was gushing blood. It was a fatal wound. She knew it. But with the last seconds she had, she just wanted her mother's comfort. Her mom told her to stay calm to take a breath and to apply pressure to the wound. She tried to be strong for her daughter. but inside, the panic was all-consuming. She and Akira's dad hopped in the car and began the drive from Kissimmee to Orlando to save their daughter, their niece, and their friend.

Sadly, they wouldn't get there in time. When Akira hung up, she called the police, begging them for help and telling them about the situation in the bathroom. That call has never been publicly released. What happened in the stall during Akira's final conscious moments is best told by patients who was alongside her holding her hand. I didn't see Akira get shot, but after he sprayed the bathroom with bullets, as the night just kept going on and on, I just heard her less and less. Like, at first, like, I heard her the most.

Like, she just kept saying, I don't want to die. I don't want to die. You know, and then she was saying, my vision is getting blurry and stuff like that. And then you just didn't, then I didn't hear her no more. 18-year-old Akira Moree eventually succumbed to her injuries. Tiara and patience would make it out alive. but all around them as the minutes ticked on, people were dying. And the situation was taking a drastic turn.

At 2.30 a.m., the gunman made his first call to 911. Just feet away, the people he had shot, people who were still fighting for their lives, had to listen as he pledged allegiance to the Islamic State, for everyone in the bathroom and soon the world to hear. I'm not going. What? I want to let you know I'm in Orlando. I want to let you know I'm in Orlando and I did the shooting.

What's your name? My name is I pledge of allegiance to Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi of the Islamic State. I pledge my allegiance to Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, Hasid Allah on behalf of the Islamic State. Where are you at? With that call, everyone in the bathroom realized that this wasn't just a shooting. It was a terrorist attack. And some of the things he said to the survivors and the stalls seemed to confirm it. At one point he even told them, quote, this is nothing personal. I'm just trying to send a message to my country, end quote. At another point, he asked out of nowhere, if there were any black

people in the stall. Then he added, quote, I don't have a problem with black people. This is about my country. You guys suffered enough, end quote. For the victims who were still inside, the weight was as unsettling as it was unbearable. One man said amongst the sounds of whimpers and cries, he heard the gunman using the sink. Then he heard him use the hand dryer. Another man said that as he was lying on the ground, he felt something poking at him. He believed it was the shooter checking to see if he was still alive. Everyone inside the bathrooms could hear the commotion going on outside. More than anything, they just wanted the police to come in and save them.

But that help wouldn't come until much later. Minnie in the bathroom died during the wait. One of those people was 31-year-old Eddie Justice. Before the gunman entered the bathroom, Eddie could feel the walls closing in. So, he texted the person who mattered to him the most. His mother. She was startled awake by two texts at 206 in the morning. They read, Mommy, I love you. In club, they're shooting. His mother's stomach dropped. She texted back immediately, asking if he was okay. His response was even more devastating.

Call them, Mommy. Tell them I'm in the bathroom. Now, he's coming. I'm going to die. In his frenzied state, hiding from the killer, Eddie's text came few and far between. His mom tried to get information out of him. She learned which bathroom he was in. And then she asked him, are people hurt? Yes, lots. Then at 250, her phone lit up with one of Eddie's final texts. He's a terror.

And then came the last message she'd ever received from her son. A yes. To what, we don't know. But at 251, Eddie Justice's mom spoke to her son for the very last. time. Eddie was just 31, a hardworking accountant who lived for his family and friends. Every time he saw them, he greeted them with a hug and a kiss. He made everyone he encountered feel like they were the most special person on earth. And tragically, he never got to share that love with anyone again. He died in that bathroom, with the gunmen just feet away. His family and friends never got to

experience one of his famous hugs again. They never got to hear his laugh again. And as much mother was forced to reconcile with the final words her son had sent her. Tragically, she wasn't the only mother to experience that that night. In the stall next to Eddie, 19-year-old Jason Josephat clung to his phone as he spoke to his mother and siblings. He told him there was a shooter at the club and begged his mom to call 911. They hung on to every word, reassuring Jason, telling him that help was on the way. But abruptly, Jason whispered, he's coming.

And then, silence. The line went dead. Inside the stall, Jason made a courageous decision. As the gunman opened fire on them all during his initial entrance into the bathroom, Jason threw himself over Patience Carter, shielding her. Patience later told his mother that he died instantly. Jason was always the type to put others before himself. His friend, Kiara Parham, told Orlando weekly.

Jason was the loudest. He was always giggling. his laugh was unforgettable. Jason was so immensely loved that his funeral had to use a ticket system to accommodate everyone. One of his close friends, Alexis Schaefer Lopez, told 12 News, I was blessed with tickets to his funeral, thank God, but a lot of people know that him aren't able. I kind of just wanted to do something, so everyone felt like they were a part of something kind of like that. She added that her one goal in life was to be as happy as he was and as loving as he was,

because he honestly had no hate in his heart. You can tell by all these people here that everybody loved him. Sadly, all the love and joy that Jason had to give was taken away as he drew his final breaths in that stall. And the next stall over, 21-year-old Alejandro Berrios Martinez realized that at any moment he was going to die. With his last few seconds of life, he texted his partner, Adai Molina. Born and raised in Cuba, Alejandro never imagined he would be able to live the life he had with a day.

He had moved here to secure a better job for himself, and that night he was celebrating having done just that. His father, Saul, told the Orlando Weekly, quote, Eleandro came to Orlando to get ahead, to build his project of happiness. He was happy in love with dreams, laughing with friends, celebrating that he was beginning to build a love.

he had wanted and how he wanted it, end quote. Things had been looking up for Alejandro before that fateful night, but there, in the bathroom stall, hiding from the bullets, the text he sent to his boyfriend read, quote, I don't have time to tell you, I'm in a shooting and can't leave, scared with blood, I love you, don't doubt it, end quote. A few minutes later, he sent another message, my love, I am afraid of dying, end quote.

Sadly, that was the final message a day received from his soulmate. Alejandro was shot several times. He was just 21 years old. There were a number of people in the bathroom sending messages to loved ones. At some point, the gunman had had enough, with all of the phone calls and text messages going off in the stalls. In the silence, every text and call seemed to set him on edge. So much so, he began to snap at the survivors, demanding that they stay off their phones.

When the phones continued to vibrate, he demanded that they slide the phones under the stall over to him. Without question, everyone did as they were told. Now, by this point, Orlando Police Department personnel had located the cell phone that the shooter had used to contact them and identified its owner. They learned that the shooter was Omar Mir Sadiq Maitin. At 248 a.m., the shooter called 911 a second time. This time, he spoke with the crisis negotiation team. To the pledged the legions to the historic state of the government. Okay.

Can you tell me where you are right now? Because you have to tell America to stop bombing Syria and at all. They're killing a lot of innocent people. So what am I to do here when people are getting killed over there? You get what I'm saying? do. I completely get what you're saying. What I'm trying to do is prevent anybody else from getting in. They need to stop the U.S. airstrikes. They need to stop the U.S. air strikes, okay? I understand that. They need to stop the U.S. airstrikes. You have to tell the U.S.

government to stop bombing. They're killing too many children. They're killing too many women. I understand that. But here's why I'm here right now. I'm with the Orlando police. Can you tell me what you know about what's going on tonight? By the way, there's some vehicles outside that have been bombs just to let you know. Your people are going to get it, and I'm going to ignite it if they try to do any of their student. Okay, I understand that, and I'll pass that along. Can you tell me what vehicle? Because I don't want to see anybody get hurt. No.

But I'll tell you this. It can take out a whole city block almost. I understand that. Tell me in the club, do you have any injured people with you that you brought with you? I'm not letting you know nothing. Well, I'm trying to offer you help. The U.S. is collaborating with Russia, and they're killing innocent women and children, okay? I hear what you're saying.

My homeboy, Cameron, is the biggest thing on the Boston Marathon. So now it's my turn, okay? Okay. My name's Andy. What's yours? My name is Islamic soldier, okay? Okay. What can I call you? Tell me to Jackie Dean. Tell me the soldier of God.

So that's a lot for me to say. So can I just call you something else? Do you have a name, a nickname? I can help. I have a vest. Okay, you have a vest. Hey. I understand that.

So what kind of vest do you're talking about? Is it a bullet resistance? The call for the bomb vest? The phone with me, please. What are you wearing? Yeah, like, you know, to go out to a wedding. I'm not trying to joke with you. I'm trying to be serious.

The call sent shockwaves through the survivors in the bathroom. They had survived being shot at, many more than once. They had survived being locked in a room with a killer. But now, they were faced with a brand new horrifying reality that the man they were trapped with had a bomb. Everyone tried to keep it together. Many clutched their injuries, trying to stop the bleeding with just their hands or clothing. Others stepped in to help, applying pressure and trying to keep the injured awake.

With every passing second, they prayed that the officers would breach the room and put an end to their hell. Quite the opposite was happening. Outside, officers had retreated. After the shooter made that 911 call, every officer dispersed, leaving the building. With word of a possible bomb inside, they were instructed to leave the nightclub and wait outside in the parking lot. For the next 40 minutes, officers stood there trying to come up with a plan to get the hostages out, which meant for that entire time the survivors were trapped utterly alone with a killer, and that help was still a ways away.

Meanwhile, outside, many of the injured that had been rescued from the dance floor, patio, and other rooms, were taken to a triage area set up across the street at Einstein Bagels on South Orange Avenue. But there were so many people with gunshot wounds, there wasn't enough space for everyone. Several police officers started transferring the injured in their own police cruisers to the hospital. An unmarked police truck was loaded with people inside the bed of the truck and escorted away from the scene. All around, there were people making tourniquettes or performing CPR. One man asked for plastic gloves so he could tend to the wounded, However, he was told there weren't enough.

But without thinking twice, he started to help anyway, ignoring the feeling of warm blood all over his hands. Approximately 42 victims were taken to nearby hospitals. But inside, there were still many victims trapped. At 3.20 a.m., an Orlando Police Department avatar tactical robot was sent into pulse to assess the South bathroom, which is the bathroom that the gunman shot into earlier that night. an obstruction stopped them from seeing a clear picture of what was happening, but the audio system on the robot allowed them to tell those in the bathroom that they were working on a rescue.

Still, it would be over an hour before that rescue came. But across the hall, the victims in the north restroom waited in agony as the gunman paced inside the room with them. During that time, he silenced phone calls from negotiators and texted his wife. Throughout the night, the shooter sent scattered texts to his wife, nor Salman, around 2 a.m., nor texted him, asking, Where are you? In response, he simply said, everything okay.

She responded several times over the next hour, sending him messages that read, Your mom is worried about you, and so am I. You know you have work tomorrow, right? Then just question marks. Then one more. Where are you? At around 4 a.m., he texted her.

You know what happened? What happened? Habibi, what happened? At 429, he sent his final text to his wife. I love you, babe. At that same moment in the bathroom, the gunman told all the victims around him that he had four bomb vests

and that he was going to strap them onto them and send them outside to kill the police. One of the women in the stall, who still had her phone, texted her brother, who alerted the police. In a panic, hostage negotiators called, called the gunmen over and over, desperate for him to answer. In the background, you can hear officers discussing their plan as they repeatedly try to call him.

Omar, I need to pass along what your concerns are. He has not said the bomb... Omar in the car, in the parking. He's not confirming anything. And he said I'm wearing a vest, but he didn't go in there. Dress vest, a bulletproof vest, or a bomb vest? That's all I got. When we question him on it, you shut down.

Ringing. I got 0.315. I'm sorry. I'll just say that on the tape. Do you need more papers? We think so. We called him Omar and he did not. He didn't even blink.

Can you back off? Yeah, he's off again. Ring. Please leave your message for... I tried that off the back. He sounds like he's in a very very... very sterile environment like he's at home and apartment. I don't hear anybody like that.

Maybe in an office. Could be. Could be. He said, do you want to Please leave your message for FAC. And then he said, For how many?

And Andy tried. For what kind? Ringing. Zero 316. One ring. Oh, he said. Omar. Listen, this is Andy.

Listen, this is Andy from the police again. I don't want to mess up your message. You come out and you can tell it yourself. I'll arrange media or whatever you want. It's got to be a first step. With your new means, a lot of you think, I call you. Well, I understand that, but obviously, you know, it's my job. I need to be in contact with you.

I'm your communication lifeline to everyone that's outside. I'm trying to pass along your message, I don't want to screw that message up. You tell me you don't want people to get hurt. I presume that includes you. Tell me your message, and I will pass that along. You don't want the bombing. Tell me about it.

I'll write it down. Omar, oh, my, please talk to me. I want to get your message out. I want to pass along what you have to say. I can't do that if you won't talk to me. He's probably not going to be a phone. He's heading up 317, going right back here. As you're annoying me with these calls, we're going to keep calling.

It's only a voice we've got. With the gunmen not answering and the threat of a bomb imminent, law enforcement decided that they had to move. The Orlando Police Department report on the shooting reads that OPD command staff, fearing the imminent loss of life, changed their strategy from negotiation to taking immediate action to free the hostages and neutral. the suspect. That decision came after the gunman had been holding the hostages for over three

hours. If that seems like it took a long time for law enforcement to make that decision, it's because, well, it was. The timeline of Pulse and law enforcement's response inside has been plagued by controversy. And don't worry, it's something we're going to discuss in this series. But for now, let's take a look at the final moments of the Pulse nightclub shooting as they unraveled. At 501 a.m., officers used a loud speaker and urgently instructed everyone to move away from the wall. Then at 502 a.m., exactly three hours after the shooting began, the explosive charge was detonated, carving a hole in the thick walls of the club. But it was no use. It didn't create a large enough opening for entry. So the SWAT team made their next move, using an armored vehicle called

the Bearcat. They began to bring a large enough opening for entry. They began to bring a large enough opening for entry. So the SWAT team made, breach the bathroom wall. But when they finally made it through, they realized that the hole didn't even lead to the bathroom. It led to the hallway, so they'd have to try again. Eventually, the bear cat finally created a large enough opening in the south bathroom to initiate a rescue operation. And from there, they worked on bringing survivors to safety. But they were instructed to leave the bodies of the dead behind. For survivors, As police crashed through the wall, creating an opening for them, it didn't feel like a rescue. It felt like another traumatic event.

The entire bathroom shook as officers forced their way inside. People who were already horrified, traumatized, and bleeding screamed with their last bit of strength. When the shooter realized where the SWAT team was entering, he threw open the door of the North bathroom and fired directly into the South bathroom at the rescuers. The SWAT officers returned fire, unleashing a wave of bullets as survivors tried to exit through the hole in the wall. In that exchange, 11 officers flooded into the south bathroom, standing between the survivors and the shooter. And there, in the hallway, the shooter was struck down. Bullets sliced through his chest, his foot, and his leg. In total, he was shot eight times.

There, on the floor of the Pulse nightclub, the gunman died. After three hours and 12 minutes of terror and carnage, it was finally over. But for many of the victims, the endless night continued. The gunman's death didn't stop their wounds from bleeding or their loved ones from dying in their arms. Here are the words of Patience Carter, who was holding her cousin, Akira Murray, as law enforcement rushed in. My cousin, I had her on my lap, the little bit of strength I had in my arm. I used to pull her on me and pick her head up so the water wouldn't run because when they blew it down, the pipe was running still. And then I'm telling them, like, please take her, just take her.

Like, we got to take you first. That's what one of the rescue people said to me, we got to take you first. I'm like, no, take her. She's still breathing. I'm okay. She's breathing. They didn't listen to me at all, obviously, because she died. They left her in the club.

Why? She died inside the club? They left her in the club. So is that negligence, in your opinion? They had taken her right away. She was breathing, you said? So, Dr. Wicca didn't take her right away. I don't. Listen, I don't know.

I don't know. I can't speak for them. I really don't. And every time I think about that, I get real upset. I think the police, more than everybody, were in the most scared. This is their first time coming in and seeing all this. And they're just like, raise your hands, raise your hands. Like they said, any other shooters in the back film, they were like, no.

They dug me out. They had an escort me to a pickup truck. They put me there, they brought another victim that was shot, which I believe it was Tierra Parker, and she was just about the very faint. They grabbed me by my arms and my legs and carried me to the back of the black F-150. And I just remember them asking for a phone number to call, and I gave them my mom's phone number, the only one I can memorize. And the wind hit me, and I just, everything went black after that.

Join us next week for part three of our four-part series on the Pulse nightclub shooting. In part three, we'll discuss the shooting from the perspective of the families of those killed, the remaining victims, and the response of our nation. If you're a Patreon subscriber, all parts of this series have already been posted. In honor of the victims, survivors, and heroes of Pulse, we will be making a donation to the LGBTQ Plus Center Orlando, an organization that continues to provide support and research. sources for the families of the 49 victims of the Pulse tragedy, as well as the numerous

survivors. Hey, everybody. Thank you so much for listening to Part 2 of our Pulse Nightclub series. This is a truly horrific story, and it's just crazy to me that it's already been 10 years since all of this went down. If you want to get access to the rest of the series right away, please consider supporting the show on Patreon. On Patreon, you can get early, add-free access to every episode of the show.

show. And when we do series like this series, we always post every single episode from the series, every part of the series at the same time. So if you love our work and you want to support what we do here, consider joining us there. We have some pretty good stuff to offer. We also have an entire library of bonus episodes of the show. So if you've already listened to every episode of murder in America and you want more, if you support us on Patreon, you can get access to that bonus library of full-length episodes of the show. Also, don't forget to leave us a five-star review wherever you listen to this podcast, whether that's Apple Podcasts or Spotify.

Those reviews really help us out. And also follow us on Instagram at Murder in America to see photos from every case that we cover here on the show. Anyways, y'all, that's about it for this week. I will see you guys next week for part three of this series. And yeah, we'll catch you all in the next one. Descend into the unexplained and unimaginable. Mom said to them, what are you here for?

What do you want? That's not human! That's not human! True accounts of crimes and anomalies so strange, they defy reasoning. It was extreme violence. I've never seen anything like it. She was forced to eat human flesh and survive the unthinkable. Welcome to the antiquarium of sinister happenings and documented atrocities.

And at that moment, the feeling to survive kicked in almost like an animal instinct. I told her to run. I knew. that minute something terrible had happened. Why would somebody do this to him? Why would they try to hurt my baby? Search the Antiquarium of documented atrocities on Apple, Spotify, and wherever you get your podcasts. A presentation of Bloody FM.