Knock-knock.
That's how I got sucked in. He was a cheery man at my front door. A friendly smile and fine tailored clothes, a checkered vest and a pair of spectacles. He waved and shook my hand. Told me his name, but I'll simply refer to him as "The Neighbor" or "That One." He was announcing his purchase of the house across the street.
It was a quaint piece of land, lots of bushes and trees, but a good yellow and tan house with an archway over the door and a large windowpane in the front.
"I just thought I'd pop in," he said and I could have sworn he had a crackle to his voice like he was on the phone. "Didn't mean to bother you, but you're free to stop by."
I thanked him, and he went back off the lawn to his own little bit of heaven. The Neighbor was so cheery, I didn't know what to think of him. We had plenty of decent folks around the block, and they weren't all bad. Mrs. Grayfield was an old widow who took care of a nasty cat, but she was a sweet ol' dame. The Jordans had two rascally boys of their own, and the couple were always helping out around town. The boys weren't too much trouble. A bit noisy at times, but they were just kids. And the Fredericks didn't have any kids but a lot of nieces and nephews, so they always had someone over.
Possibly too much information for you, but I was recently laid off so I had plenty of time to explore the neighborhood. The Neighbor was simply another person to get to know right now.
I woke up in the middle of the night the day he arrived and was hungry, but as I sat up in bed, I saw something out the window. There were these bizarre lights coming from the Neighbor's house. There were red lights, blue lights, yellow lights, all flickering out his window. I pegged I was tired, so I went back to sleep, but the ideas were already generating that something weird would happen.
The next day, I took the Neighbor up on his offer to pop in. He was in a jolly mood. He was impressively unpacked and set up for life in the suburbs. His furniture looked like the stuff of antiques or things you'd find in a grandma's house. But the Neighbor was not old. Maybe two or three years older than me. He was old-fashioned, but only in appearance.
We talked for a bit. I sat in one of his armchairs in the living room. I noticed the door to the basement had a big padlock on it. I knew it was the basement because there was a tiny plaque on the door that said where it led. And that wasn't the strangest thing. There was a spot of red liquid on the floor by the kitchen.
"You spilled something?" I asked, and Neighbor's smile grew a bit concerned.
He told me he wasn't quite ready for guests yet, even though we had been talking for ten minutes, and then he told me to leave. As I left, I looked through the windowpane and saw him scrubbing the floor where the red was.
The next time I saw the Neighbor, it was at the grocery store. I was going to fill out an application, and as it turned out, the Neighbor was the one giving out jobs. He said he had a job opening up at his company. What that was, I wasn't sure. But he told me to meet him in his garage the next morning.
Obviously, I stayed up all night, wondering what kind of job this guy would have me do. Scenarios replayed in my head of me eventually being chased by a cop car or ending up dead in a river.
In the morning, I scurried over to his house and found him in the garage with table after table of boxes. He was at one and placed a tea set in stuffing. He wished me a good day and said I'd be making deliveries. He pulled out a red bike with a crate on the back and proceeded to hand me a helmet. "To be safe," he said.
The Neighbor loaded my basket with small boxes and addresses. Then he went back to his packing area, and while he failed to notice my imagining, I saw him take a teapot, press it against his lips and kiss it before packing it up. The man was obviously passionate about his work.
I went to all the addresses labeled on each box and the folks receiving them seemed tamed. A grandma, a happy couple, people with small houses, apartments, and condos. All well-lit places, no broken glass or graffiti on the walls. Everyone in a good part of town.
I went back to the Neighbor's garage, and he had more boxes for the afternoon. And when I came back after that route, he had a surprise. My pay.
The Neighbor gave me ten dollars for every package I delivered, and since I had no other income, that seemed like a lot.
There was one more surprise. He made dinner and invited me in for spaghetti and garlic bread. We sat in his dining room, and of course, I felt the need to ask, "What's in the boxes?"
The Neighbor let out a snicker. "I run a small business. People ask for gifts and I make them for them."
"Gifts?"
"Yes, sweaters, toys, flowers, I make it all."
BANG!
There was a sudden noise in the other room. Like someone threw themself against a wall. "The house is still settling," the Neighbor tried to laugh it off. "I'll see you tomorrow."
He pushed me out once again but let me keep the plate of spaghetti.
I continued doing deliveries for the Neighbor a few more weeks, and he paid me handsomely, raising my pay enough for me to pay my rent and keeping me well fed. Still, whenever I asked about suspicious banging or strange, foul smells coming from the basement, he told me not to worry. I once saw him leave the basement as if being chased and there was red ooze dripping from his face. "Spiders, spiders," he said and laughed himself silly.
I started keeping tabs on my new boss. I noticed I'd stay up at night to watch his house through my bedroom window. I could see his shadow dancing on the wall past all those bizarre flickering lights. And one night, I swore I lost it because it looked like there were two shadows moving in his house.
Curiosity got the best of me, and the next night, instead of walking to my house, I ducked down into the bushes in front of the Neighbor's window. I watched as he sat in one of his armchairs and fell asleep. I snuck in through the opened garage and tiptoed into his living room. The Neighbor was sound asleep.
This was my chance to see his basement, the source of the weirdness. The steps were steep, and of course, it was dark. The only light I found at first came from a tiny window. What I could see or couldn't see was that it was a normal basement.
Then I heard something rolling on the floor. There was a soft tap on my shoe. I reached down and picked up a mason jar. It was full of red jelly- jam.
Crrreee... Tiki. Tiki. Tiki.
Someone's hot breath blew on the back of my neck. "Hello."
Click.
The lights came on. They were dim but I checked behind me and saw a horrific scene. Tall, boney, red man. Sharp, grotesque teeth. Horns curled and ready to pierce. He only turned the light on to show me his gruesome form. Once he had accomplished scaring the daylights out of me, he tugged at the chain and turned out the lights.
There was a scuffle. I won't lie. It wasn't much of a fight for him. I could feel his claws grab at my clothes and hair. I felt my way to the stairs and attempted to climb them, but the thing was pulling me back.
"Come here!" A hand reached out from atop the basement stairs and pulled me to safety.
SLAM!
The Neighbor had been the one to save me and barricade the basement door with a dresser. The beast continued to bang and scratch his way to freedom. The Neighbor pulled a shotgun from his cabinet and targeted the door.
It blasted open, thrown off its hinges. And from the dark emerged the malicious creature. Neighbor's hand fidgeted with the trigger. It was clear he never held a gun before. As for me, I took shelter behind one of the chairs. The beast seemed to be after me. It crawled closer, mouth drooling and eyes dancing around its prey.
BANG!
The Neighbor shot a warning and caught the beast's attention. "It's me you want. Leave him be," he gasped, trembling in fear.
The beast dared to laugh at him. "You owe me food, you foolish pedestrian." It grinned and snickered as it came to the Neighbor, getting so close between him and his gun. "You can't let me down. I. Own. You."
Bang!
Neighbor shot again but missed even when there was no distance between them. His eyes shut, blocking the flow of tears. "You don't scare me," he hissed.
"Open your eyes and say that," the beast snickered. "You're a fool. A damned fool. You will never purge this world of sin."
Bang!
He shot again. Every bit of him was shaking. "Say one more word," the Neighbor dared.
"Daaaamned," the beast said slowly in his ears.
And that was its last word...
BANG!
A bullet coursed through its head, and it dropped. Hitting the floor with a loud thud. A few seconds of silence. Then the Neighbor came and found me.
"Are you alright?" he whispered.
I nodded. Demon blood was splattered on his face.
"I'm so sorry," the Neighbor apologized. He caught sight of my own battle scars. "You poor thing. I should have never... I'm so sorry."
"It's...fine," I try to say, but I don't remember if I ever said anything.
"You should go. I'll clean up here." The Neighbor helped me up and kicked me out of his house one last time. I closed the door behind me and left it there.
The Neighbor wasn't my neighbor much longer. A few days later, there was a moving van outside his house. I managed to catch him as he packed the last of his life in his trunk.
"Hello," he smiled and sighed. "How are you? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine... I have no idea what happened."
The Neighbor took a shallow breath. "It's best that way."
"What was that thing...in your basement?" As if I had to clarify.
He laughed and shook his head. "Raccoons." He saw on my face I didn't believe that. "Raccoons. They infest homes and ruin lives. Now there's one less in the world."
"What are you going to do now?" I asked.
"I'm going to take care of more raccoons. And I'll try to make the world better as I go."
It didn't have to be said, but it should have. "Thank you."
The Neighbor smiled at me, got in his car and waved goodbye as he drove off behind the moving van.
Weirdo, I thought. Never thought I'd say it, but at least there was someone to fight off those damn raccoons.