The Howling

Bryan sighed as he parked his black 1976 Mustang Cobra II in front of the apartment building.

The building had been his grandfather's , but since his passing it now belonged to him. It had been his grandfather's pride and joy. All Bryan could see was an old beat up building that was just falling apart.

The faster he got it fixed up and sold, the faster he could leave Heavenly Hills, he thought bitterly.

He looked around, and took in his surroundings of the small town. It was mostly trees to the one side of the town, creating a thick barrier away from the bigger cities. Across the street from where he stood was a drug store, a bakery, and a diner. They were spotless, and the people in the windows were chatting happily. Only a few took a moment to glance in his direction.

Further down the street were a few houses and a couple more stores, all equally spotless. There were smaller trees, planted by the sidewalks for a decrative touch. Heavenly Hills was heavenly.

He looked back at the apartment building, and cringed. What an eye sore. For a moment, he thought it best to just tear the sucker down, sell the land. But the costs were out of the question in a place thats in the middle of no where, so he dismissed that thought.

He grabbed his luggage from his car, ignoring the sharp pain in his right shoulder. With the pain came memories of how he got hurt. He ignored them too. Bryan made his way into the decrepade building, and cursed once he was inside.

Awful nicotine soaked floral printed walls, most of which were still standing, but the rest were a crumbling mess. The carpet was the ugliest mint green color he had ever seen before. Debris layed every where, only adding to the stench of the place.

Walking through the narrow hallway without tripping on the garbage, or touching the stained walls proved more of a challange than he thought. He followed the instructions left by his crazy grandfather, and went to room A-17. Bryan dug through his pocket, taking out the large golden key, and unlocked the door. He pushed open the strudy oak door, relief flooding to his chest.

At least the old man did something right, he thought as he entered the apartment.

It was neat and tidy, the air was cool and smelled divine compared to what was doing just out in the hallway. The whole place was furnished with black suede, which made him smile, just a little. Not a trace of floral wall paper or mint green carpet to be found; the walls were painted a very soft cream, and the carpet matched in color, if not just slightly darker. All in all, the whole place had a bachelor kind of feel to it.

The sectional couch faced a very expensive HD flat screen television, complete with surround sound and a PS3. He wondered just when his grandfather had done all that since he was bed ridden for the last six years of his life.

Bi-passing the kitchen, which looked chromed out, Bryan went to the one bedroom. A queen sized bed neatly made up in black satin greeted him. He mentally thanked his grandfather for supplying him what looked to be the most comfortable bed in the whole world. Even an involuntary moan escaped his lips at the sight of it.

On either side of the bed were two black nightstand tables. Both had matching sleek silver lamps which he actually liked. On one nightstand were a few books of poetry. Who knew he liked poetry? Surely, not his grandfather.

Bryan sighed, wondering what his next move was going to be. He knew he should get started, but he suddenly felt very tired. His eyelids felt incredibly heavy, and the bed was looking better and better. Before he knew it, he was laying comfortable in the satin clad bed, and dead asleep.