Poltergeist
Chapter Two. 783 Words.
A man wearing a grey sweat suit walked briskly down a dim hallway. He was coming close to his prey’s apartment and a smile spread across his dark face. He was bald and the weak, fluorescent light cast highlights across his brown head. Almost menacingly, he reached out and his gloved fingers traced his path out along the peeling wall.
Finally, he had found a use for this new power. It terrified him at first when he woke up a couple weeks ago and found that he could hear his neighbors speaking in the next apartment as if they were right next to him. What was worse was that he could see what they were seeing if he concentrated on their voices hard enough, almost as if he was inside their eyes and looking out. But what truly freaked him out was when his dresser drawers shot across the room and smashed into a million pieces. It only took a moment for him to realize that he was now the most powerful person in the city.
How did he come to have these psychic powers overnight? Why? He had no idea. All he discovered was that his neighbors were disgusting, sordid people. Everyone he heard was just as disappointing as the last.
In one short month, he had gained control over his new powers. He could pick anything at will and toss it clear across the city. He could choose which thoughts to listen in on and which to ignore. And he always listened to those who looked the most desperate, the most sorry people in the bunch. Those who hated who they’ve become and wished nothing more than to die. He followed them like a hidden jungle cat, gathering more and more information before eventually revealing himself. He confronted them with their own darkest secrets and gave them the final push to pull the trigger.
Now he came to a door at the very end of the hallway. Slowly and quietly, the doors lock undid itself and it swung open on its frame. From the doorway he could see a single man sitting in a chair, watching a porno on TV, a 6pack by his side.
“How we doin tonight, Joe?” He finally let himself be known. The man in the chair jumped out of his skin.
“What the fuck!? Who the FUCK are you?? Get out!!” Joe screamed.
“Shh, Joe, you’ll wake the neighbors.” He stepped inside the apartment. The door closed and locked itself behind him, the dim light from the hall cut off, now his wicked grin was tinted blue by the small television.
“I DON’T FUCKING CARE! GET THE FUCK OUT!!”
“Shut the fuck up,” he snarled, anger creasing his face. Joe was knocked off his feet and a curtain ripped off the window and tightened around Joe's throat. “You can’t expect to rape a little girl and get away with it, can you?”
Fear lit up Joe’s eyes as he struggled against the unseen forces holding him down, his muffled screams drowned out by the moaning from the porno.
“I know you’re sorry, Joe. They always are. But it doesn’t change the fact you did it. Eventually that girl’s nightmares will get too violent, and she’ll be forced to spill the beans about what dear old Uncle Joe did. And there’ll be hell to pay. If her father doesn’t kill you himself, you’ll rot in jail. And I heard they don’t take kindly to perverts in those places.” He said as Joe continued to struggle.
“Now, Joe, promise me that you won’t scream and I’ll let ya go.” Joe nodded. The curtain relaxed and Joe sat up, cursing and crying and punching the floor. He watched Joe, an evil smirk on his face, he loved to see these people crumble right in front of him. A pistol slowly floated from his belt and rested at Joe’s hand. After a moment, he finally said, “Do it, Joe. Hell’s gotta be better than this.”
The pistol floated up again and pointed itself at Joe’s temple. Slowly, Joe’s hand reached up and grasped the gun. “You have a nice night, Joe.” He said, walking away as the door opened.
A short moment after the echo of the door slamming shut faded, another blast pierced the walls and echoed down the hallway. He walked away, shaking his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk..”
Finally, he had found a use for this new power. It terrified him at first when he woke up a couple weeks ago and found that he could hear his neighbors speaking in the next apartment as if they were right next to him. What was worse was that he could see what they were seeing if he concentrated on their voices hard enough, almost as if he was inside their eyes and looking out. But what truly freaked him out was when his dresser drawers shot across the room and smashed into a million pieces. It only took a moment for him to realize that he was now the most powerful person in the city.
How did he come to have these psychic powers overnight? Why? He had no idea. All he discovered was that his neighbors were disgusting, sordid people. Everyone he heard was just as disappointing as the last.
In one short month, he had gained control over his new powers. He could pick anything at will and toss it clear across the city. He could choose which thoughts to listen in on and which to ignore. And he always listened to those who looked the most desperate, the most sorry people in the bunch. Those who hated who they’ve become and wished nothing more than to die. He followed them like a hidden jungle cat, gathering more and more information before eventually revealing himself. He confronted them with their own darkest secrets and gave them the final push to pull the trigger.
Now he came to a door at the very end of the hallway. Slowly and quietly, the doors lock undid itself and it swung open on its frame. From the doorway he could see a single man sitting in a chair, watching a porno on TV, a 6pack by his side.
“How we doin tonight, Joe?” He finally let himself be known. The man in the chair jumped out of his skin.
“What the fuck!? Who the FUCK are you?? Get out!!” Joe screamed.
“Shh, Joe, you’ll wake the neighbors.” He stepped inside the apartment. The door closed and locked itself behind him, the dim light from the hall cut off, now his wicked grin was tinted blue by the small television.
“I DON’T FUCKING CARE! GET THE FUCK OUT!!”
“Shut the fuck up,” he snarled, anger creasing his face. Joe was knocked off his feet and a curtain ripped off the window and tightened around Joe's throat. “You can’t expect to rape a little girl and get away with it, can you?”
Fear lit up Joe’s eyes as he struggled against the unseen forces holding him down, his muffled screams drowned out by the moaning from the porno.
“I know you’re sorry, Joe. They always are. But it doesn’t change the fact you did it. Eventually that girl’s nightmares will get too violent, and she’ll be forced to spill the beans about what dear old Uncle Joe did. And there’ll be hell to pay. If her father doesn’t kill you himself, you’ll rot in jail. And I heard they don’t take kindly to perverts in those places.” He said as Joe continued to struggle.
“Now, Joe, promise me that you won’t scream and I’ll let ya go.” Joe nodded. The curtain relaxed and Joe sat up, cursing and crying and punching the floor. He watched Joe, an evil smirk on his face, he loved to see these people crumble right in front of him. A pistol slowly floated from his belt and rested at Joe’s hand. After a moment, he finally said, “Do it, Joe. Hell’s gotta be better than this.”
The pistol floated up again and pointed itself at Joe’s temple. Slowly, Joe’s hand reached up and grasped the gun. “You have a nice night, Joe.” He said, walking away as the door opened.
A short moment after the echo of the door slamming shut faded, another blast pierced the walls and echoed down the hallway. He walked away, shaking his head. “Tsk, tsk, tsk..”