The noises started at about three in the morning. It was a banging sound and I could tell it was coming from right bellow the room I was in. That meant something was happening in the basement!
I was pretty sure it wasn’t one of the residents. Even though this complex is a good six stories and we have plenty of tenants here paying rent, we just don’t have many late night people. The younger people here don’t go down to the basement much past midnight. Who the hell wants to go down there this late anyway? Basements are always such weird places and ours is plenty dark and dirty. It gets wet down there too, after these crazy Missouri rain storms we have. Someone banging around down there is another type of problem all together, though.
They never call the police here anymore and there’s no apartment security guard to check on strange noises. It seems like I’m always the one who takes care of these things. And really, at first site, I know I’m a bit creepier than any noises in the night could be. Most people freak out when I show up. I have a look like some guy who has never been outside in his life. I guess I’d say I’m pretty pale and I never blink. I never smile and I guess it’s all a bit morbid. I made some guy wet his pants, literally, just because he saw me right after it got dark one night. I was in a hallway and not some freaky basement.
I planned on making whoever it was down there scream. I love the sounds of people screaming when they first see me. These kids that live here who are really into the whole goth scene seem to share my love for the screams. It’s something they kind of laugh about. I watch over them on a regular basis and sometimes I even stare at them but they don’t seem to mind when I stare.
I stare at this goth girl Molly Hayes all the time. I like her the best. I like her long black hair and her black dresses and I like her red lips. Every now and then I show up in her room and I’m waiting for her to get home and when she comes in the room, she’ll see me. I go in and out of that bachelorette pad of hers from time to time and she is used to it. I know she loves the sounds of the screams more than anyone in that whole place. She talks about it with the other people here and then she grins in a way that is more satisfying than I could ever describe.
I always got satisfaction here at my home, in general. This is where people always left me alone. I never had a roommate or anyone to bother me. I always liked spending time alone looking at the ivy growing on the building and the red painted walls inside this place. I was always attached to the place and now there was also Molly.
I had Molly in mind throughout this whole incident. I didn’t hear any screams echoing under the floors or anything so it was probably just one intruder down there. Still, I didn’t want this jerk to be in the same building with her and she had me all fired up that day as it was.
Molly had played her old Ministry cd’s that afternoon. She played the songs that bring out the anger in me. I think they bring out the anger in her, too. I know she has anger, the way she throws her yearbooks around her room like they were trash and gives the middle finger to frat boys when they walk by the apartment. She can get pretty pissed sometimes, but I can get pissed off really easily if I feel threatened. This unwanted guest made me feel threatened.
It only took me a second to move down a level and I avoided the basement staircase. The underground room was not totally dark, and I saw that it was lit by one bulb, dangling from the ceiling. The first thing that was a bit of a shocker was when I looked at the back door leading into the place, there was no broken glass or anything and the door was closed and latched up from what I could see. It didn’t seem like anyone had broken in.
The real shock came when I looked in the middle of the room. There in all the dust and gloom was the site of Molly. She was holding a hammer, her face looking pale, her hair dangling down her back. She was kind of squatting, hovering over the body of what looked like like some skinny dead college boy in a tee-shirt and jeans. I could see the blood on the floor and the gashes on the ground from the hammer from where she missed her target during all her rage.
She saw me in the room and I stared at her like I always do. She accepted my presence and nodded her head. She was never someone who was afraid of me anyway. A girl like that just isn’t afraid of a ghost.
As I hovered over Molly and her victim, I felt very much in love. I’ve always felt that it was me who was haunted by her.
Molly looked so powerful and so beautiful. All that was missing was her smile, but I could relate to that empty feeling. After all, she killed the bastard so fast, we didn’t even get to hear him scream.
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Copyright 2011 John Kujowski
John Kujawski has interests that range from guitars to the Incredible Hulk. You can listen to him on the weekly podcast at www.comicbookshowdown.com or read his music articles at www.nighttimes.com He was born and raised in St. Louis, Missouri and still lives there to this day.
Tags: John Kujawski
