COMPANY
The name's Dick. I used to be a lonely old coot.
Grumpy, too. I suppose, that still holds true, but nowadays, I'm not quite so
lonely anymore. Not since Jake and Marianne came along.
I was actually surprised that they didn't mind coming
to stay with a grumpy old man nearing seventy. You know, with them being so
young and in their primes. Marianne's a pretty little redhead who's
twenty-three. Her bright emerald eyes have faded since coming here to the Bradford.
Room 236, that's our room. Jake, twenty-eight and her husband, could have been
considered handsome with his wavy, brown hair and blue eyes, but not anymore.
That's what the Bradford does. Drains the life right out of you.
These two bicker, a lot. I've wondered if these walls
have done it to them or if they were like this before they got here. They don't
pay me any mind. Hell, half the time, they act like I'm not even here, but
still, I enjoy having the company.
Today, like every other day, they're arguing. I'd
leave them to their privacy, but I'm strangely drawn to it and fear that if I
leave, they'll stop their fight. Though, I'd really like to see if Marty has
any pop and maybe a burger or some pie. I haven't eaten since yesterday.
“Jake, you don't listen. All you do is sit and move
your arms. You can't even stand upright,” Marianne's yelling.
“Yeah, like you're any better. At least I don't stink.
Jesus, take a fucking shower. Put on some fucking perfume. And what's up with
your skin? It's turning purple.” Jake's left arm flails wildly in the air,
smacking his face several times.
“Yeah, well you're bloated, and the skin on your arms
looks like it's splitting. You say I stink? I'm pretty sure that smell is
whatever the fuck's oozing through your pants. Speaking of your pants, how do
they even fit? Look at how fat you've gotten.” Marianne's teeth smash together
a bit too hard, and three of them fly from her mouth, clattering to the floor.
I can't help myself as I laugh hysterically. I drop
the wooden operating crosses because I'm laughing so hard, and Jake and
Marianne's arms and heads go limp from the tension being lost on the wire
cables.
I sigh, knowing my time with them has come to an end.
The stench in the room is nearly unbearable. Now, with their teeth falling out,
I know it's time to get rid of the bodies. Once again, I'll be lonely. It's not
every day I come across a nice-looking set of corpses to use for
marionettes—the tenants here tend to destroy bodies, whether to consume them or
just for the fun of it—and it's a lot of work for only the few days I'm able to
spend with them. With my age and failing health, I'll need help setting them up
anymore, and unless you have cash to pay someone, good luck with that.
I used to be the best. People came from all over to
buy the puppets and ventriloquist dummies that I carved and whittled by hand.
Then the arthritis hit, and the money went. This is the only place left I can
afford to live out my days.
I look over at Marianne and Jake, thinking about
unscrewing the eye-bolts from their bodies. One in each hand, one in each foot,
and one at the top of each of their skulls. Then there's the extra one that's
in their bottom jaw to control their mouths.
“Fuck it,” I say to myself, not wanting to do the
work.
I toss the operating crosses over the metal beam I had
installed—what a waste of money that was—and
wrap the cable wires around each body. I manage to push Marianne to the floor
and drag her through the door, leaving her in the hall a few doors down. I come
back and push Jake off the chair he occupies. He hits the floor hard, and his
stomach ruptures. The smell makes me wretch, and my shoes are covered in the
grayish-brown sludge that erupted from him.
“I knew I didn't fucking like you. You disgusting
piece of shit,” I holler at him and kick him in the face, which causes the skin
to rip away, revealing the bone underneath.
I tug him across the floor towards the door. The
intestines that are exposed get caught on the head of a nail and rip open. Now
the smell is even worse in the room, and shit smears the floor with the other
goo that was already spilling from his guts.
I finally get him in the hallway next to his wife.
“Don't you two think about coming back. I don't want your company anymore!”
I go back to my apartment and open as many windows as
I can. I grab my key, head towards the door, and lock it on my way out.
“Oh, by the way, Jake, I fucked your wife. For such a
young thing, she sure was a lousy fucking lay,” I tell him as I walk by.
I glance down at my watch, noting the time. It's four thirty. Marty's should be opened,
I think as my stomach growls.
“Now, I sure hope Marty has some pie and a pop,”
I mumble to myself before whistling the rest of the way down the hall to the
stairs.
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