Alden’s nose lifted to test the crisp fall air as he left the putrid cheap meat stench of Burger King. The scent was laden with the ominous snow prophet yet he knew it would be a few weeks till the flakes fell. He stepped out onto the parking lot and walked over to his car still using his tongue as a pick to get the little bits of mystery meat out of his molars. Just as Alden opened his car door a bright flash caught his eye, the glint off of a car windshield. He told himself he should think nothing more of it but there was something about that car the piqued his interests. The second generation gray Honda Accord had seen better days and was in obvious need of a muffler and some paint. Alden watched it speed through the parking lot and come to an abrupt halt outside of the hardware store. The driver quickly jumped out and sprinted for the entrance. Shaking himself out of his temporary trance Alden got into his car and proceeded to go about his Saturday afternoon errands.
Janelle was on hour seven of her ten hour double shift for the day. The steady stream of customers to her register had put her in a temporary trance and it seemed that her vocabulary consisted of the same nine words, “Hello, did you find everything you were looking for?” She was tired of dealing with checks and cash. She wanted to further numb the drudgery by not dealing with numbers and extra forms and papers. One customer after another, her battle cry, “Please sign in the box on the screen.” She was temporarily jarred from her monotony when the door opened abruptly and a man walked in at a swift pace. He was tall, brown hair, medium build, and obviously determined as he went directly toward the back of the store. Returning to the task at hand she dismissed the incident and went about her inner monologue. Pipe wrenches, compost bags, paint cans, screws, nails, sandpaper, duct tape, all went through her register. She didn’t know what they were for, nor did she care, as long as her husband got the ten percent discount. She could always tell when someone was up to no good. PVC pipe, an abundance of end caps, spray paint, industrial size markers, and teenagers buying driveway floodlights were items she had been taught about in employee training that put up a flag. She checked the next customer’s identification because he was buying a whole rainbow of spray paint. The next customer in line laid out a potpourri of items that she couldn’t possibly fathom what he was up to. Unless this guy had serious home and auto issues he must be up to something. She gave him a disapproving glance but went about the sale in her usual manner thinking, “As long as he doesn’t do anything to hurt me.” The customer paid in cash which irked Janelle but not enough to get much more than a sigh out of her.
Peggy had just come from a heated argument with her landlord regarding the drabness of the garbage chute closet. She wanted her building to look nice and there was no excuse for the tortured walls, it was quite the abomination. “I hope my dinner guests never see this,” she thought to herself. Not that she would ever have any. Peggy lived by herself on the top floor of a seventies model apartment building downtown. She promptly went to bed at eight, rose at six, and had three square meals a day. She liked everything quiet and any disruption of her solitude bore grave consequences. Her neighbor to the south was having a party that night and had forewarned her as they can get very crazy and often last until three or four in the morning. “Thank God she is the only one on the floor that feels the need to do this”, Peggy thought to herself. The elevator door opened and she made her way to the garbage closet for a final critique but more for something else to do to eat up the day. She heard the other elevator open and footsteps coming her way. Turning off the light in the closet she opened the door just enough so that she could see who it was. Her neighbor to the north was at his door fumbling with the many keys on his ring. She thought, “See, ten years ago I wouldn’t even have to lock my door. It’s all these kids causing us problems.” Her neighbor had just moved in last year and she had only spoken to him briefly. He was very guarded and quiet, yet friendly. He also very rarely had guests over if any at all that she knew of. Normally she wouldn’t think twice about it but some afternoons she could hear the drone of power tools working away behind his door. She chalked it up to him building shelves or and entertainment center but something inside of her told her that there was also something else. She watched him open both locks and shove a few boxes inside with his feet while holding several bags. Peggy couldn’t make out what was in the bags or written on the boxes but she did become even more suspicious when he swung around and looked her right in the eyes, or so she thought. He did a once over of the hall and slinked into his apartment barely opening the door enough for him to get through.
Andrea was at her wits end. All of her tenants were complaining of this and that and none of them really had anything good to say. They were complaining for the sport of it, for something to do. The last complaint was from the damn lady upstairs that wants us to paint the garbage chute closet. “Why don’t we put glitter on the garbage bags too, so the garbage men feel happy taking out pretty trash”, she said sarcastically aloud to herself. She did have to deal with one complaint at that moment, a leak in 912. She called up Greg, the maintenance man, and told him. Then it dawned on her that she would have to go into 1012 to check the pipes. She hated that apartment; the renter had only lived there about a year but he was very quirky. He was a nice enough guy but some of the stuff she would see in his place just gave her the creeps. It was like a homemade lab assembled around a living area; a living, breathing, apartment. She couldn’t yell at him because she had no idea what it all was. She previously had meth labs in her building so she could spot one of those and this it wasn’t. She knew he wasn’t a dealer because random people weren’t in and out of the building at every hour of the day going to his apartment. She steadied her nerves and called him…no answer. This didn’t’ surprise her, he was hardly ever home anyways. His parking spot was right outside of her balcony and she looked to see if his beat up Honda was there, it was. Greg walked into the office and they proceeded to the elevators. When they came to the door they heard a noise, a heavy mechanical breathing sound, and paused briefly to look at each other in wonder. Andrea knocked but there was no answer. Greg turned his master key and slowly opened the door to see a strange glow emanating from the living area. There was a loud click and the strange blue-green glow from inside was gone. Greg and Andrea jumped back; she was really going to lay it on the tenant this time if she found that damn cat in there again. They both stepped forward cautiously. Everything looked in place and normal. The kitchen had quite a few dishes piled up in the sink, “But who am I to judge”, Andrea thought to herself. As Greg rounded the corner from the entrance he stopped, his mouth agape. Andrea nimbly crept up behind him and peered around the corner.
Infrared cameras were strategically placed throughout the apartment, a bank of timers hung from a power strip; several lighting devices were placed above what looked to be a Rubbermaid coffin. This is what caught the attention of Greg and Andrea. They stood in awe for a good five minutes trying to figure out what all the wires, tubes, conduits, and gadgets did before making another move. Greg slowly made his way to the chamber with Andrea one step behind. Ever aware that the camera eye was recording there every move they knew that their actions were highly illegal but the thirst for the answers could not be quenched. The closer they came to the chamber the brighter the strange glow appeared. As Greg raised his hand to grasp the lip of the lid something mechanical clicked and one of the gizmos that looked like a humidifier on steroids started to purr. As Greg regained his resolve his hand grasped the lid, sweat beaded on his forehead, and he was very aware that what he may see could cost him his life. Andrea gave him a firm nudge and Greg slowly lifted the lid. A plume of moisture emerged much like dry ice from a witch’s cauldron at a Halloween party. As the lid was lifted higher the fog dispersed and tiny heads became partly visible. They appeared to be growing off of something beneath the bottom layer of fog that the device was spewing forth. Andrea crouched down and waved her hand to ward off the mist and to her amazement…mushrooms
Hope you enjoyed that, I know my writing style needs work but I had to put something out there to contend with the good Doctor
-Eyebooger