The Neighbor (ATSSC)

Home, there's no place quite like it. Of course, like all things subjective, it's a bit different for everyone. Many dream of a quaint little piece of land with a cozy house surrounded by a freshly painted, white picket fence. If you lived in the big city, home might be a spacious loft with a spectacular view of the world below. But for most city dwellers, it's an apartment. More than likely, one of those over romanticized studio apartments. The kind where the walls are unbearably thin and the neighbors prefer to keep their distance. Whatever the case may be, everyone needs a sanctuary.

Alan walked into his studio apartment. He tossed his keys and a couple of letters onto the end table near the front door and flopped onto an armchair. He dug a cigarette from the pack in his outer shirt pocket, lit up, closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. It had been a long day, and it was time to sit back and relax.

As he opened his eyes, he noticed a dark figure. Curled on the loveseat across the coffee table was what appeared to be a cat. Rather, it was more of a pitch black void in the form of a cat. The figure raised its' head towards Alan, and stared nonchalantly at him with sparkling red eyes. It stirred a bit, stretched its' front legs and settled back to sleep once more.

Alan took another long drag off his cigarette, completely unfazed at the sight of a shadow cat lounging on his furniture.

A long and slender smokey figure materialized from the depths of the unlit hallway. It entered the room and solidified into the dark shape of a woman. "Hey, you're back!" she said cheerfully.

"Hi, Colette," Alan replied. "Cute cat."

"Oh, I see you've met Muffin."

"Muffin? You've never struck me as cat kind of girl," he said. "But Muffin? Come on."

"That just shows how little you know about me. Besides, she belongs to Kent."

"How can you tell she's a she?" he asked.

Colette laughed.

"Never mind," Alan replied. “I’ll take your word for it.”

As he finished his cigarette, the quiet reverie was broken. The neighbor's surround sound system had kicked into full gear, as the all to familiar sound track to "Lord of the Rings" echoed through the walls into Alan's apartment. He groaned at the thought of another all night trilogy movie marathon vibrating through the place and ruining what should have been a peaceful evening.

Muffin awoke and stretched lazily across the sofa. She got up, pattered toward a dark corner down the hallway and melted into the shadows.

Alan was not particularly fond confrontations, and he certainly was not fond of Lars. He sulked down the corridor to Lars' apartment, took a deep breath and knocked loudly on the door. A muffled voice started cursing from inside, followed shortly by the sound of various bolts clicking and sliding back. Lars cracked the chained door open a few inches and glared at Alan.

"Could you please turn it down a couple of notches. The walls are shaking."

"Bite me," Lars replied, as he slammed the door shut in his face.

"Nice."

Alan shook his head and returned to his apartment. A few seconds later the volume was cranked up louder, as the ominous sounds of the battle filled the living area.

“There’s nothing like a good exercise in futility,” piped Colette. “But, hey, at least you stood your ground.”

“Yeah, this time we actually conversed before he slammed the door on me.”

“Really?” she asked, genuinely surprised. “What did he say?”

“'Bite me.'”

“Excuse me?” she replied.

“'Bite me.' That’s all he said. Then wham!”

At that moment two dark figures emerged from a dark corner at the far end of the studio. Both were at least a head taller than Alan, and carried small black tote bags that seemed to meld to their hands.

“Good grief, 'Lord of the Rings', again?” exclaimed Kent, in a rich baritone voice laced with a British accent.

“That’s got to at least be the third time this month,” said Harold, as he placed the bags on the coffee table.

"It's the fourth," Colette corrected.

“That may be, but I don’t understand why he feels the need to share the bloody genius that is Tolkein with the entire building!” said Kent sharply.

Colette walked to the wall that split the two apartments and disappeared. A few moments later she returned giggling. "He's wearing the helmet, again," she snickered.

"No!" exclaimed the two shadows in unison. Colette just nodded her head in affirmation. At this revelation, Harold and Kent nearly doubled over in hysterics. They both dropped onto the loveseat gasping for breath.

"What helmet?" Alan asked, looking obviously confused.

"Last time he popped that movie in, you were out and about town," Colette said, wiping a tear from her eye. "Well, I decided to peek in on him. Lo and behold, Lars is wearing one of those Viking helmets with the horns sticking out the sides."

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Alan laughed. “Do they even wear those in the film?”

“Who knows. Hell, who cares!” Harold replied. He picked himself off the loveseat and helped Kent to his feet.

“All we can say is he looked like a damn bloody fool,” Kent chuckled. “Parading around with that thing on top of his head. Guzzling beer and eating pizza like there’s no tomorrow.”

“You should have seen it. It was an absolute riot!” exclaimed Harold.

They all shared a good laugh, as Colette began to rummage through the black bags. Out she pulled six red and white Chinese take-out boxes and four sets of chopsticks. Alan placed the wineglasses on the coffee table, and Kent poured a nice white wine. They settled themselves on the floor and started to feast.

“This is delicious,” Alan said. “I’m guessing you picked this up through one of your usual connections?”

“Of course,” Kent said. “I’m the consummate networker. In our world, one can never have too many connections.”

As they sat on the floor and ate, the chink of glasses and the epic battle sounds of Middle Earth embraced them. After awhile, Alan grew quiet as he finished his meal. He tilted his chin towards his troublsome neighbor, then sighed.

“What am I going to do,” he asked. The shadows remained silent. “I can’t afford to move. Hell, I don’t want to move. I love this place!”

“Lars is not exactly the kind of guy you can reason with, either,” Harold said, matter-of-factly.

“You think!” Alan snapped. “The guy’s nuts. Reason, much less logic eludes him. It’s a classic catch-22.”

“Surely you’re not going to allow this lout to get the better of you?” Colette asked. “You just can’t!”

Alan poured himself another glass of wine. “I don’t like the situtation anymore than you. But, what can I do?” he replied. “Let’s face it, I’m screwed.”

“You mean ‘we're screwed.’ You have no idea how liberating it is to be able to live in the open like this,”Colette said. “Not all of us are fortunate enough to have landed a gig with the shadow government that allows us to roam at leisure”

Her sarcastic tone did not escape the notice of her two shadow companions.

“Here we go again,” Harold said. “It may be a civil service job, but it’s a job nonetheless.”

“Snarky little activist, isn’t she?” Kent laughed.

“Oh, shut up!” Colette exclaimed. “Alan needs our support.”

“Colette’s right. Don’t you fret about it, young man,” Kent said, “We’ll work through this together. Besides, why should you be the one to move. ”

“You mean aside from the fact that Lars is a sociopathical prick with no obvious respect for his neighbors?” Alan wryly asked. “I really don’t think kindly asking him to pack up his things and shove off is going to do the trick here. Besides, he'd kick my ass.”

“Well, perhaps a little friendly persuasion is in order,” Kent replied. “Come on now. This should be fun!”

*****

The darkened room was reminiscent of a floor display from the home theater section of one of those oversized electronic store chains. A large leather recliner with a built-in drink holder was firmly nestled between two large black vibrating speakers. The room was awash in a soft blue hue that flickered from the huge flat-screen television set parked front and center. The coffee table was littered with various crumpled fast food wrappers, and an undeniable stench of stale beer and rotten sneakers permeated the air.

Lars sat basking in the soft glow of his personal paradise. Now this was the ultimate trilogy. “Star Wars” could not even come close to holding a candle. Besides, could there be anything more profound than to watch Liv Tyler speak Elvish. Doubtful. Arwen's blue eyes glistened solemnly at him from the screen. He released an audible sigh.

Suddenly, a small dark shadow darted silently across the floor in front of the television and toward the bedroom. “What the hell was that,” he muttered to himself. Lars was a hardened city boy. He had seen gutter rats before, but he instinctively knew this was different. First of all, there was no way a rat of that size could enter his apartment without an invitation. Secondly, how could a rat that large scuttle across the wooden floor so quickly? Something was amiss.

He picked up the remote control and muted the volume to the movie. It took a moment for his ears to adjust to the silence. The muffled sound of traffic filtered through the closed window from the street below. Lars craned his neck and strained to hear the intruder. Nothing. “It must be my stupid imagination,” he muttered.

He reached for the remote control. It wasn’t there. He could have sworn he placed it on the armrest. That was where he always placed it. It was one of those mundane automatic pilot routines. Perhaps it had fallen. He glanced at the floor on the side of the armrest. Nope, it’s not there. He checked around the floor of the other armrest. There it is. Hmmm...

As he bent down to pick it up, the Viking helmet toppled from his head. In a feeble attempt to catch it, one of the horns had scratched his arm while the other scraped the wood floor. “Damn it!” he yelped. A long raised welt appeared on his arm and started to bleed slightly.

He mumbled a few more choice words beneath his breath, and grabbed the helmet off the floor. Sure enough, the metal band around the base of the headpiece had marred the floor’s wooden veneer. The landlord wouldn’t like that. Oh, well. He turned his attention to the helmet. After a quick examination, he determined it was undamaged and planted it firmly atop of his head.

As he did, the sound of muffled laughter echoed through the quiet room. He turned his head and eyed the room suspiciously. He then glared at the wall separating the two apartments and muttered, "Damn neighbor." His arm had begun to throb a little and he glanced at his injury. “No harm done,” he thought, as he rubbed it. “Just need to be bit more careful, that’s all.”

Now that the remote control was in his possession once again, Lars turned the volume back up. Not more than a few minutes had passed, so he hadn’t missed much. He settled back in his recliner and dismissed the interruptions as mere nuisance. It didn’t take long for him to become fully immersed in the movie once more.

As he stared dully at the screen, he glimpsed a small black figure careen around the corner from his bedroom and straight into the darkened kitchen. Lars bolted upright. He knew what he had seen. It was a cat. There was a stupid cat running amok in his apartment. Damn it!

He took off his helmet, placed it haphazardly on the coffee table, and strode quickly into the kitchen. He flicked on the overhead light and struck a ninja-like stance. Nothing was going to get past him. He looked around. Aside from a sink full of dirty dishes, and an open box of cereal on the counter, it was empty. He opened up the cabinet doors and peered beneath the sink. He closed the doors, straightened up and scratched his head in confusion.

“Impossible,” he muttered.

In the living room, the movie’s soundtrack suddenly shut off. Startled, he turned around, and cautiously walked back into the room. The soft glow of the television screen flickered quietly across the coffee table. Lars stood frozen in place and stared at his helmet. Two slightly dampened wine corks were skewered firmly upon the end of each horn.

He wasn’t sure how long he stood there agape before he noticed the three shadows against the back wall. The two tall figures were playing Rock, Paper, Scissors while the smaller svelte one stood arms akimbo and watched. A small sound escaped his throat, and the shadows stopped their activity and turned towards him.

“Ah, Frodo, there you are,” Kent said. “Please be kind enough to have a seat.”

Although the shadow’s voice was calm and even, Lars still jumped. Then he noticed that his recliner had been swiveled around to face the back wall. His legs felt heavy and remained in place. It seemed nearly to much for his mind to comprehend, and he felt on the verge of collapsing.

“Come along now,”Colette prodded. “We don’t have all night. I promise we won’t bite.”

He moved slowly forward, crossed the room and sat uneasily on the edge of the seat. A line of sweat had begun to bead along his browline. His lips were parched and his hands trembled.

“Nice set up you have here,” Harold remarked. “Could use a little sprucing up, though.”

Lars remained silent. Colette left the room briefly. He turned his head and watched her glide into the kitchen. He heard the refrigerator door open and the soft clinking of bottles. She slid back into the room and offered him a green bottle of beer. He accepted it with a slight bit of hesitation.

“Drink up,” she said. “It’ll relax you.”

Lars fumbled with the cap, but in his nervous state was unable to open the bottle. Colette leaned forward, gently grasped the bottle and loosened the cap for him.

“Uh, thank you,” he weakly stammered.

“You’re quite welcome,” she said with a bit of warmth.

“Please allow us to introduce ourselves,” Kent said. “This is Colette and Harold.” The two shadows bent their heads in acknowledgement.

“I am Kent,” he continued. “You’re no doubt wondering why we’re here, so we will keep this short and sweet. We live in this building, and as fellow residents, we feel it is our duty to inform you that you are disturbing the entire building with your entertainment center.”

“Huh?” Lars squeaked. He stared blankly at the shadows.

“For crying out loud, let me try,” Harold exclaimed. He bent down until he was eye level with Lars and said deliberately, “YOU’RE – MAKING – TOO – MUCH – NOISE!”

Lars closed his eyes and cringed at every word. Kent threw his arms in the air in disbelief.

“He may be a bumbling idiot, but he’s not deaf,” Colette said. “How about we try a more positive approach.”

Harold graciously stepped aside. She turned to Lars and said, “Listen buddy, just keep the racket down and we’ll all be happy little campers. Okay?”

Lars slightly nodded his head in agreement.

“Alrighty then. That little problem is solved,” Kent remarked. “We’ll be on our way then. Oh, don’t mind the cat. She may sneak off with a sock or two, but she’s mostly harmless.”

With that, the shadows bid farewell and melted into the darkness. Lars sank back into his recliner still clutching the untouched bottle of beer. As he stared at the wall, a small shadow walked by. The cat stopped, looked at him and blinked its’ red eyes. It then continued to walk towards the wall, and with the swish of a tail it disappeared.

*****

“How’d it go,” Alan asked, as the group returned from their visit.

“Overall, I think it went quite well,” Colette said, as she and Harold settled into the loveseat.

“I agree,” Kent said. “I don’t expect we’ll have any more issues with our new friend.”

Alan smiled and thought, “There’s nothing like the quiet comfort of home.”


[edit on 5/9/2007 by maria_stardust]

Cool, nice job maria_stardust.
Cats creep me out anyway, i was sweating nearly as much as Lars.
Meeow.

I enjoyed it. Enough mystery to keep me wondering... I especially enjoyed the "dark" characters.

Thanks you guys, I'm glad you've enjoyed it!

Gemwolf, I considered using a shadow pug instead of the cat, but it just wasn't the same.

A great debut for you maria!

Hope you stick around this forum and take part in more contests!

Thanks for your kind words, sdp333.

Writing is something I've always enjoyed doing. I'm glad to have discovered the perfect forum for stretching those muscles.

Those muscles are looking pretty well developed already. That was great, quirky and creepy and left you wanting to know more but in all the right ways. Great stuff

Nice work, maria...a great premise supported by fun characters and snappy dialogue.

I used to be horrified at the idea of seeing a shadow-being...but now, I wouldn't mind having a few around. You know...just to chat, run errands, what not.

Thanks for helping me shake a nasty prejudice.