Home Invasion

THE FOLLOWING STORY IS BASED ON REAL LIFE EVENTS, GUESS WHICH PART AND COMMENT BELOW

Frank’s main drama is not having a car

He never wanted a fast or beautiful car.

Four wheels powered by an engine would have been sufficient. Anything that didn’t force him to squeeze in public transportation breathing sweat and farts each day and wearing worn out shoe soles in poorly lit streets at night. Every night he spent with his friends he had to take the n°18 to downtown and hold his breath for twenty long minutes to avoid breathing a week of bodily miasmas left by the commuters, ride after ride after ride.

Another night out was over, and Frank was about to come back home.

It’s Three AM in the morning, the only sound is that of his shoes to the sidewalk. Not a car is passing by.

Frank would love to listen to some music but the cellphone has no battery left. Frank’s main drama in that precise moment is that he spent the night fucking around with his cellphone, together with her best friend Sara, sucking the battery dry. Not leaving even a 5% for the way back.

Just to break the silence around him, Franks start talking to himself, bitching about how he drank too much, that he really needed to find a decent job, and how much he would like to fuck someone, trying to remember when the last time he had sex with someone was.

His ramblings became more and more frequent and intense while passing by the condo that’s at the end of his home street. The place is abandoned and decrepit. It had been evacuated after an explosion caused by a gas leak in an apartment on the third floor. A few weeks later the first floor tenant, Mr. Thule, an electric heaters salesman, massacred his wife and three kids with a battery powered Bosch multitool drill, he emptied the craniums of all the family, gathering all the brain matter in a blender. He confessed the mass murder 48 hours later, when he was hospitalized because he tried to drink all the brain matter, mixing it with milk and vodka.

The weird thing is that none of the other tenants nor the people in the nearby buildings heard a thing.

Mr. Thule massacred his family at 3:15 in the morning

Walking in front of the building full of signs with the words FOR SALE and FOR RENT, Frank feels a chill flowing down his spine.

Without realizing, Franks stops to stare the Condo.

“Even if I were paid to live here, I wouldn’t” mumbles to give himself some strength.

His gaze wanders up, to the first floor windows.

Windows are open, there are no curtains.

The old lady that lives on the tenth floor of Frank’s apartment said that, if you looked close enough into the window to the right, into one of the kids’ bedroom, you could even see the blood stains on the ceiling.

She saw them. She was adamant about it.

“Dirty ol’ Liar” Frank reflected while focusing on that one window.

All that he saw was pitch black, obviously. He was in the dead of night.

Maybe next day, with some daylight…he thought.

Get back home, he says to himself, next day you’ll check.

But he didn’t, he stayed and kept on staring. His eyes wandered through the dark, the hypnotic well of darkness, looking to that macabre detail. His drunk voyeurism kept him there.

I will let my eyes adjust to the darkness… He says to himself while leaning in from the street, trying to see something inside without any success

The lights inside the room suddenly switched on.

Frank gasped in shock.

He must have been looking at the wrong apartment and someone realized that there was someone peeking into their window.

Frank got ready to be called a perv and being chased away by some overweight blue collar that was finally fucking with his wife. He started to walk away but he couldn’t tear his gaze to look away from the window.

He finally could see the ceiling, where prominent big brownish stains are. Dried blood for sure.

Suddenly a figure of a woman peeked out of the window.

The face was pale, like she had stage makeup on her face.

She opened her mouth, showing black teeth and vomiting blood from her mouth.

Instead of her eyes two empty sockets stared at Frank.

“Mr. Thule gouged his wife’s eyes out” the tenth-floor old lady’s voice echoed into Frank’s head while he turned his back from the scene, running away in terror.

A hand suddenly grabbed his shoulder.

Frank let out a girly, acute shriek.

He turned, ready to face a certain death, ready to feel the sound of the drill piercing into his temple and smashing his brain.

“hey dude” said the voice

Facing him there was a young, lurid, tall and sweaty man.

He reeked of alcohol

He was wearing a T Shirt with “I’ve seen the Loch Ness Monster and All I’ve Got is this Lousy T-Shirt” written on it.

Frank looked at him in panic, trying to wiggle out.

“Hey dude, I need about Three Fiddy” begged the bum.

“Wh…What?” asked frank starting walking backwards.

“Three Fiddy, man, Like Three dollars and Fifty cents” insisted the bum.

The guy was about two feet taller than Frank and could have been armed, or worse, infected with some disease.

“no no no” stuttered Frank starting to get away with a fast stride.

“Piece o’shit, even Two Fiddy would have been sufficient” reviled the man.

Frank started to go faster toward his apartment, he turned every now and then to see if the man with the Lochness monster T-Shirt would have followed him, but the man, stood on the same spot on the sidewalk. Frank noticed that also the light from Mr. Thule apartment were again turned off.

He kept looking back while getting close to his home.

He feared that the door of Mr. Thule’s Condo would have opened and the man himself would come out wielding a drill.

Or even worse, the ghost of his wife chasing him down the street.

The massacre occurred at 3:15 AM.

The other tenants didn’t hear a single sound.

Thule babbled that he was forced to.

“Blood and brains in the blender, Mr. Frank” told the 10th floor hag.

All the other tenants moved in mass and found another place to live.

Nobody could sleep at night anymore, since that night.

When they didn’t hear neither the sound of the drill neither the screams.

“Those poor toddlers screamed until their vocal cords bled, Mr. Frank” the voice of that old bitch again..

Frank’s main drama, is that he’s scared to death.

Finally arrived at the front door, Frank hastily unlocked it, his hands shaking.

He slipped through the front door while it occurred to him that something was coming up from the end of the street.

Something was coming up fast.

It points toward him

Frank whimpers

He quickly ran up the stairs like a madman.

When he arrived at his apartment, on the fourth floor he heard the front door, downstairs shutting. Si è dimenticato di chiuderlo nella fretta.

He forgot to close it shut behind him.

The thing was coming up the stairs. Frank could see a shadow moving along the stairwell.

Trembling in terror, he fumbled to get the key into the keyhole.

The key made one turn and the thing was on the second floor.

Two turns, and it was coming up on towards the third.

Three turns and the thing is past the third floor.

Frank was hearing a deep, atrocious wheeze while he made the key turning the fourth time. The door was now open. He run in, bringing the keys with him and shutting the door with all his strength while seeing the thing coming up the last set of stairs

He hears its heavy ragged breath, like a death rattle.

Frank locked all the locks in haste. Dead bolting the front door

He finally tried to calm down. The door is armored, there’s no way it could barge in, anything that’s on the other side would remain on the other side. He’s at home now.

Instinctively, Franks turned all the house lights on. Ghost doesn’t need door, he suddenly thought.

He turned the TV on the CNN, some chattering would calm him down.

Just for an instant.

The bell rang.

First once, then twice.

Then it kept ringing and ringing.

Frank was petrified, terrorized. The thing was outside his door.

Maybe it was just that bum. God knows how many reports he read in the newspapers. They go apeshit because they go cold turkey and kill somebody for a quick buck.

The CNN anchorman, starts saying “A woman of 27 was stabbed this morning outside a WALMART in Washington D.C. by a homeless man already known by the law enforcer for rape and pyromania.

The thing on the other side started knocking frantically on the door.

The bell kept on ringing.

Frank grabbed the Cellphone to call the police, but it’s out of battery

It wouldn’t have made a difference. They would have found it dead on the carpet, with his skull open by a drill.

“Open up, Frank it’s me!” a female voice, from the other side relieves him from the panic.

He decided not to answer, instead he turned the TV off.

It may have been a set up.

“C’mon for fuck’s sake, I lost my house keys, I ran all the way to here. Open up Frank!”

The voice may have been Sara’s but it couldn’t be her. She could not have come here that fast.

No, it’s better not to trust anyone.

“OPEN THIS GODDAMN DOOR YOU GREAT POOF! I CANNOT SLEEP OUT HERE!” the voice yells.

Frank got close to the home cordless phone, while keeping an eye to the door

His fingers dialed 911.

A sleepy voice answered “911, what’s the emergency sir?”

Frank explained in a whisper “Yeah, there’s a woman, outside my apartment that wants to come in”

“A woman? Is she ugly?” asked the cop on the other side.

“No, I mean, I don’t…”stuttered Frank.

“What’s the problem then?” said the voice on the other side. Frank could hear some laughs.

“no, you don’t understand” insisted Frank

“Oook hear me out now, all available units are out for a shootout in El Puerto, if this woman wants to rape you open the door and be a man about it, you Great Poof!” said the officer before hanging up.

Franks looked at the phone, surprised and incredulous

It couldn’t be real. It must have been some kind of nightmare, or maybe a joke.

The knocking and the ringing’s didn’t stop in the meantime “Frank, please, open up! I’m scared out here! There was a weird guy outside your home, please” begged the voice.

Suddenly the bell stopped.

The lights went out.

The power must have went off.

“Frank, open up! It’s dark out here!”

Don’t you dare answer, thought Frank. Remember any horror movie. Don’t talk with them, don’t invite them in your home. They need your permission to haunt your house and kill you.

Ignore them.

Frank went to the broom locker and grabbed the mop.

He wielded it like a war mace.

He would have downed anything beyond that door. The plan was to push the thing down the stairs and barricade the door. It was time to act like men.

He got close to the door, his heart racing. The thing was knocking with even more strength, yelling “You goddamn, asshole, open up! I’m freezing and I’m scared!”

Frank leaned against the door.

Unlocks it.

Got a firm grip on the doorknob.

The thing outside stopped knocking. He was realizing the door was about to open.

The mop is ready to strike.

Frank opens the door.

He didn’t look, he charged with all his weight and thrusted the mop in front of him, like he was holding a spear.

The mop hit the tiny girl on the other side of the threshold. She fell on the ground in a wave of profanities.

“Fuck! You dumbass idiot, Fuckin’asshole!” shouted Sara, her back on the floor, in all her menacing 1 metre and 56 cm of slender build.

Realizing how much he fucked things up, Frank got out of the apartment, leaving the mop on the floor.

“Sara? What the…I’m so sorry…What the hell were you doing here?” Frank leaned over her. Sara’s nose was bleeding. It may have been broken.

“I rang your fucking bell you goddamn idiot! Great poof and moronic bastard!” she shouted at him, every insult was accompanied by a punch on Frank’s body.

Frank tries to defend himself from the girl’s fury “Sorry, damn, sorry I was scared, I thought it was…”

“Who the fuck did you think I was, moron? I told you it was me, you should recognize my fucking voice! I lost my keys and that junkie down there scared me to death! Where the fuck do you live? What the fuck is wrong with you?” shouts Sara. Frank got up and helped Sara getting on her feet.

“I’m sorry, C’mon let’s get inside. I’ll explain everything. Promise” Franks turned just in time to see the door closing by itself.

Both remained silent.

“You do have the key to get in, right?” asked Sara, trying to stop the nose from bleeding with her sleeve.

“no” answered Frank.

“Someone else who got the keys?” tried the girl again, hopelessly.

“My grandma, but she lives out of town” mumbles Frank.

“Well…Fuckin’ Call her!” growled Sara

“The cellphone is inside…and there’s no battery”

Sara sighed, almost laughing “You get to sleep on the pavement, I get the doormat” She said pushing him away.

Frank nodded, he was about to sit on the floor, quite depressed, but somehow relieved.

I’ll be a laughing stock for weeks, he thought.

A sudden din put him in alarm again.

The front door, downstairs, was slammed.

Heavy footsteps going up the stairs

“Thank god, maybe it’s one of your neighbours that could let us use their couch” said Sara, not worried at all.

“It’s 3 AM, they will take us for a couple of junkies and run away – answered Frank – The light is also gone, could you imagine? We’ll scare him dead”.

“3 and a quarter” specified Sara

“What?” Frank’s face became pale. From downstairs the steps got closer and closer. In such darkness it could be at the first floor as well as the third.

“It’s 3:15 AM, Frank” repeated Sara

Surrounded by darkness, Frank hears the whirr of a drill getting closer and closer.

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