"Larry?"
Ugh, my head…
"Larry."
Did anyone catch the plate number on that bus?
"Larry!"
"Oh my god, I'm up!"
Todd stared at Larry, who was rubbing his sore head and neck. What an uncomfortable position to fall asleep in.
"Dude. You slept through the rest of the school day!"
Larry huffed at the observation, lifting himself up and stretching.
"Did something happen?"
Larry paused for a second, scratching his head as he thought about what occurred before he fell asleep.
"I… don't remember."
Todd snorted and made his way out of the stall, Larry following close behind.
"You should probably get that checked out."
|•|_|•|
Larry groaned.
His head hurts, like someone had taken a hammer to the back of his skull and rattled his brain. After he woke up he had been in a daze, not paying attention to anything that happened in the world around him.
What happened? Nothing makes sense…
Everything was sore, his limbs were numb and didn't feel right.
Did Sal do something?
Sal? What is Sal?
I thought he was a ghost, or maybe something like that… demon.
"Lar-Bear!"
"...Yeah, Mom?"
"There's a new tenant moving in! And he has a son!"
Larry grunted and slowly shuffled his way off of his bed. He made his way over and opened the door.
Lisa was already in her janitor uniform, she had bags under her eyes and her hair was messy, like she'd just woken up.
"How about you go up meet him? He's in Room 4̸̨̧̡̧̡̢̢̢̛̛̺͖̳̤̦̜̙̣̥̞̬̬̥̫̘͍͉̣̦̬͉̻̠̞̹̝̪̬͉̉͌̈́̈́̿̍̃̉͐̐́̊͗̆̾͝͝͠ͅ0̷͈̺̀̋̃͒̾́̄̍̑̿̀̄̈́͗̊͆̌̆̒͆̃̍̊͂̈̓͛͛͆͂͊̒̄̈́̀̀̏̆̂͒̅̄̉́̂͛̐̚̚͘̕͜͝͝2̵̢̡̨̢̡̢̘̻̳̰͇̫͉̙̟͔̰̖͚̙̜̝͙̲̝͙͈̼̩͔̲̻̰̗̭̥̞̩̻̼̱̰̫̜̹͍͓́͐̈́́́́̀̌͒͗̂̇͋̅̓͛͒͊̑̂̐̊̉̅͆̃̃͋̈́͒͒̀̈́̄̆̃̓̈͌̋̍͘͜͝͠͝͝͝ͅ.
"What?"
"Room 4̸̨̧̡̧̡̢̢̢̛̛̺͖̳̤̦̜̙̣̥̞̬̬̥̫̘͍͉̣̦̬͉̻̠̞̹̝̪̬͉̉͌̈́̈́̿̍̃̉͐̐́̊͗̆̾͝͝͠ͅ0̷͈̺̀̋̃͒̾́̄̍̑̿̀̄̈́͗̊͆̌̆̒͆̃̍̊͂̈̓͛͛͆͂͊̒̄̈́̀̀̏̆̂͒̅̄̉́̂͛̐̚̚͘̕͜͝͝2̵̢̡̨̢̡̢̘̻̳̰͇̫͉̙̟͔̰̖͚̙̜̝͙̲̝͙͈̼̩͔̲̻̰̗̭̥̞̩̻̼̱̰̫̜̹͍͓́͐̈́́́́̀̌͒͗̂̇͋̅̓͛͒͊̑̂̐̊̉̅͆̃̃͋̈́͒͒̀̈́̄̆̃̓̈͌̋̍͘͜͝͠͝͝͝ͅ."
"...Okay."
His ears buzzed as his mother spoke, he just… couldn't hear that last word. It was probably a room number, but he just… can't decipher it.
Well… guess he'll just check every room that was vacant.
|•|_|•|
102? Nope.
104? Nope.
As Larry passed by again, he stopped in front of Mr. Addison's room and softly knocked on the door. He almost jumped when the mail slot snapped open almost immediately after.
"My what a frightful- oh. My apologies, Larry, I did not expect you!"
"...Who were you expecting?"
"Why the new tenant of course! It's only logical to assume he'd come down to meet the other people residing in this building!"
What an insulting way to start a conversation…
"Are you sure you want your first impression to be calling them frightening?"
"Oh dear, you'll understand what I meant when you meet the boy!"
"Oookay…"
The mailslot shut with a 'Clwink!' and Larry creeped away from the door, shuffling his way onto the elevator.
Nothing on the 2nd floor.
Nothing on the 3rd floor.
...I've been ignoring the 4th floor a while.
I step off the creaky elevator and make my way to
401? No…
40- no I'm not even gonna try.
As I'm making my way back to the elevator I see an opening in Mrs. Sanderson's door. Did she leave it open?
"Mrs. Sander-?"
Oh. Oh my god.
I felt bile rising in the back of my throat and I almost doubled over right there. What the hell?
Mrs. Sanderson laid on her carpeted floor, sitting in a puddle of blood with her head split open and brain exposed. Her neck was sliced through and crimson was pooling from it. Her eyes had rolled back into her head and her leg was bent in an awkward angle, sharp white pieces of what I could only guess was bone sticking out of her leg.
Retreat! Ohh, get out of here.
I rushed back into the elevator and slammed my hand on the button, but not before retching and gagging on the open air a few times. I hugged my sides as the suffocatingly small moving room felt like my coffin. Were the walls moving? ...Best not to think about it as I squeeze my eyes shut and a drippy tear hits the floor.
|•|_|•|
Well shit.
I… guess Mrs. Sanderson's dead. Man, that was gruesome! I wonder who could do such a thing? I wonder if it was her husband… a domestic situation? Or maybe it was Charlie! That disgusting fucker WOULD do such a thing…
Ugh, my head hurts just thinking about it…
I just want to curl up and die, anything to block out that… traumatizing image of… of her dead body. Should- Should I call the police?
No, I'll ju-
'Nock, Knock'
...huh?
"Y-yeah?"
"Hey, uh, Larry? Your mom said I should come say hi. I just moved into 4̸̨̧̡̧̡̢̢̢̛̛̺͖̳̤̦̜̙̣̥̞̬̬̥̫̘͍͉̣̦̬͉̻̠̞̹̝̪̬͉̉͌̈́̈́̿̍̃̉͐̐́̊͗̆̾͝͝͠ͅ0̷͈̺̀̋̃͒̾́̄̍̑̿̀̄̈́͗̊͆̌̆̒͆̃̍̊͂̈̓͛͛͆͂͊̒̄̈́̀̀̏̆̂͒̅̄̉́̂͛̐̚̚͘̕͜͝͝2̵̢̡̨̢̡̢̘̻̳̰͇̫͉̙̟͔̰̖͚̙̜̝͙̲̝͙͈̼̩͔̲̻̰̗̭̥̞̩̻̼̱̰̫̜̹͍͓́͐̈́́́́̀̌͒͗̂̇͋̅̓͛͒͊̑̂̐̊̉̅͆̃̃͋̈́͒͒̀̈́̄̆̃̓̈͌̋̍͘͜͝͠͝͝͝ͅ."
"You can… come in, i guess. The door's open."
This is strange, why do I have the feeling this has…
Oh.
Oh no.
No, no no.
"Uh, Dude? Are… you okay?"
No, he's- oh he might pass out. Maybe he should sit down.
Is this another dream? Did he fall asleep?
"Do I need to get your mom? Or a doctor?"
Okay, no, no. He's… okay.
When he opens his eyes again he finds himself staring into two blue eyes, though one is cloudy and lifeless. And terrifying. Well, that's the first difference I guess. His mask is the same, though, cracked through the eye-hole and replaced with a pink fragment. His hair is still up in his eerily familiar pigtails.
"I'm… fine."
The boy tilts his head, you can't see his face so it's hard to tell what he's thinking. Creepy.
"Are you sure, man? What the hell happened?"
Larry shudders as Sal grabs his arm, and immediately tries to shake off the revolting touch. This makes the boy yank his hand back like he'd been burned.
"Yeah, Yes. I am fine."
"If you…"
The boy trails off as his eyes wander around the room, soaking in the atmosphere.
"No, everything is fine."
Sal gives a slow nod, and sits down on the bed next to Larry.
"I think we hot off on the wrong track, sorry. My name is-"
"Sal. Fisher."
"...Yeah. So, you're Larry? Your mom told me about you."
This conversation isn't going anywhere. Larry still feels like puking but now he just wants to curl up under his blankets and suffocate.
"Mrs. Sanderson died."
"Oh, was... was that the person in 403? There was an officer in front of the door."
"Murdered"
"Huh?"
"She was murdered. Her, uh, head was open and they slit her throat."
"Oh."
Sal bows his head, his pigtails draping over his shoulder and shielding his expression. Or as much of his expression that he could see just from his eyes alone.
"I think I know who did it. Charlie. Have you met him yet?"
Sal perked up at the name and Larry could see his… bright blue eyes staring at him, through him, HE-
No,
He will not have another panic attack. He is fine.
"Yeah, I talked to him! He seemed… off. I didn't really get his whole glitter pony obsession thing."
"Dude, the glitter ponies are the reason he's behind it! He must be jealous of the Glitter Ponies!"
"The lady had glitter ponies too?"
"Yeah, a few. Not as many, but I think she was going for the whole 'quality over quantity' thing."
"Well how will we expose him? I don't think that detective trusts us enough to look into it."
Larry shuffled over to his bedside table, picking up a small electronic device.
"Boom. Walkie Talkies."
Sal let out a small huff in amusement, at least Larry was feeling better.
"AND, a police scanner! If I send out a fake distress signal, for like, a bank robbery or something, they'll leave long enough for you to sneak in and look around!"
Larry flinched a bit when Sal's finger brushed against his palm as he grabbed the other WaTa* in the pair. His nails are sharp, which isn't… TOO weird. He could have fake nails or something. That's normal enough.
"I guess I'll be heading up? I'll call you when I'm in my room."
"Cool. Yeah."
As Larry heard his bedroom door close with a 'Cwick', he let out a shaking breath that he didn't know he was holding. This sucks. Everything sucks.
|•|_|•|
Hm, that was easy enough. Larry handled their 2nd meeting better than he thought he would.
The elevator door slammed open, shaking the metallic box. Sal's finger hovered over the button for '4' before dropping down and clicking the 1st.
Doesn't this apartment usually have elevator music?
Looking up he noticed the small speaker in the ceiling. It was sliced open, with a few nails missing and the plating about to fall off. Sal could even see a few wires hanging-
Fuck!
Goddamnit, a spark flew into his good eye!
Blinking a few times to rid his sight of that offending black dot, he cradled his masked face. Then the elevator decided it had tortured him enough and the doors slid open with a sound not unlike nails on a chalkboard.
"Ugh, I hope this is all worth it."
He quickly made his way over to the first room in the apartment. Someplace familiar.
He kicked the door, slamming his, albeit small, body against the door. He grinned under his mask as it slammed open and he heard the knob hit the side of the wall. Hm.
The room hasn't changed one bit! From the… black slime dripping from the ceiling and the lights that used to make such a warm shade being completely shattered.
"Terrance, you whore, get your slug-ass over here!"
He almost shuddered as he felt multiple sets of eyes focus on him. Keyword being almost.
"Sally Facceeeee, you're finally back-kk?"
"Yep. Bet you thought you could actually control me! Fuck that."
A long croak bounced around the room as the giant green glob of fuck-knows-what slithered towards him.
"How disappointing. Well, at least things won't be so booooring around here. It's nice to have you back."
Sal gave a small hum in agreement.
"Great to BE back, Terrance."