Sunday, February 23, 2020

THE NEIGHBOUR

WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT CONTENT!

We moved in the place, the winter of 1970. It'd been empty for years. We were gonna raise a family there. Our dream-house.

The wind was screaming like a wraith when we arrived. It rained forever. Very unusual weather.

When the freakish storm subsided one warmer evening I was stood on the stoop. The world was scrubbed clean, the dusty petrichor lingered in the air. It felt like a page had been ripped out of a diary.

I drank my bottle of Coors slowly taking in the new night. It was real quiet. Crime had dropped dramatically in town. In fact crime had fallen everywhere. Really weird.

Not far from us was another wooden place. It was the only neighbour for miles. Someone was sitting on the veranda in the shadows. Smoking. I could see the cigarette's red glow and the tip of a nose. It looked red too. There was a really huge plume of smoke rising up.

"Seen the neighbour Hon. He's a smoker. Looks OK though. Old."

"We'll take him some pumpkin pie tomorrow and say hi" My Missus was always using pie as a social handshake. It seemed to work.

The next day we knocked on the door. It seemed strangely charred round the handle. A crooked elderly male slowly opened up.

"Yes" he said with a sort of lethargic hiss.

"Hi there. We're your new neighbours. We brought you some pumpkin pie seein' as its Halloween tomorrow an' all".

"Thankyou" he hissed again, "Very kind. I'd ask you in only I'm just heating the place up for the day. It's so cold. I hate the damn cold."

He took the pie and closed the door and that was that.

Outside we noticed a rusty old beat-up but ultra-long Lincoln Continental. The Presidential no less! It was knee-high in weeds and the garish custom crimson paint job was flaking off everywhere like scabs.

"Jesus. A Lincoln Presidential! That's kinda ... "

I didn't get to finish as my wife tripped over something.

"A goddam whip! I could have sworn it wrapped round my ankle ... on purpose!"

We inspected the thing and besides being made of long tanned hide it also had a very nasty barb on its tip. Like an arrowhead but rusted to hell.

The next day I busied myself hollowing out pumpkins and the Missus was cooking up a colossal pan of gumbo in the kitchen. We'd invited a few old friends from back North for a Halloween party. A house warming too.

As I was throwing beers into a tub of cold water on the stoop I noticed our neighbour leaning against his Lincoln smoking again.

"Howdi!" I shouted, "fancy a beer?" I held up two bottles.

The old man nodded and shuffled over to our house and sat on the step. He was wearing a woollen hat and a huge overcoat. There were bulges in his hat, which were odd. His trousers were far too long and draped over his ancient boots. These seemed too big as well. Maybe he was sick and had lost weight. His skin was awful tight and sunburnt. He looked scalded. Maybe he'd worked outdoors all his life. He looked like a bum.

"Here ya go!"

I handed him a cold one and I could have sworn it sizzled on the wet glass when he got hold.

My Missus came out from the kitchen and joined us.

"Why Howdi!" she said as I gave her a beer too.

"You lived here long?" she asked the old man.

"Years. Years. I been here years. I think. I lost my way and here I stayed. I've been sick you see" he rasped, "sick and weary. A weary soul you might say. I lost all my faith and fell. Or rose, depending on your view. My friends deserted me. I'm alone now. No more important work. Job done it would seem. Idle and alone now. No flamin' fun. No sexxxx....." he droned and this babbling just faded away as if he were daydreaming.

The wife and I looked at each other. I nodded to her to say something.

"That sounds awfully sad. Tell you what. Why not come round tonight. Were having some guests over for a Halloween party!"

As if a switch had been flicked the old man lifted his sun-dried head and stared at us.

"A Halloween party you say! Is it Halloween today? I used to know it off by heart. Today. Well I'll be damned!" He seemed to chuckle at this and quickly stood.


He stared at my wife and asked in all seriousness, "Will you be there my dear?"

"Yes of course"she said.

"Fancy dress. You got anything to wear?" I asked.

"Fancy dress! Oh yes. I'm all sorted in that department thanks. What time shall I sweep by?" He asked with new enthusiasm.

"8".

He shuffled off but something had clearly put a spring in his step. Maybe it was the thought of a party. He can't have let his hair down in years!

Our friends arrived, after a long drive, suitably attired. They looked like the Monster Squad in their chevvy.


Dracula. Frankenstein. The Witch, his wife.

My wife was a She-Devil complete with pitch-fork and tail and I was Wolfman. Teeth. The lot.

The party started in earnest and we drank cold beers and danced to the Stones. The gumbo went down a storm and a few more beers too. We'd completely forgotten about our neighbour.

He arrived at 11pm. Jagger's line "pleased to meet you, don't you ....." was blurring out of the speakers as he knocked.

"Hello neighbours!" He beamed when I opened the door "I hope I'm not too late. I couldn't find my flamin' horns!"

The old man pointed to his head and I could see he'd come dressed as the devil: horns, red fork and barbed tail an' all. He looked good.

Something was different about him though. He seemed taller. Younger. More agile. His costume was the best devil outfit I'd ever seen. He looked like Old Nick himself!

"Come in, er, Satan!" I laughed.

"I thought you'd never ask!" he hissed. 


The old man wore a swirling red cape and blew into the room like a wind. He howled at the sight of Frankenstein.

"The Baron's bastard child! How adorable! One of my own!"

Dracula brought an even crazier response.

"Ah, the Count, you sly old leach, what mischief, what bloody mayhem! So close to my heart. I think I've got one somewhere!" 

He laughed loudly at his own unintelligible joke and our friends looked bemused by this stranger. Bewildered. Even a little frightened.

"This is our Neighbour everyone!" I declared to the party somewhat half-heartedly. Somehow I felt a little embarrassed.

"What you drinkin'?" my friend Dracula asked the old fella.

"A Bloody Mary my good Count, the bloodier the better eh!"

He really didn't seem like the same jittery old sod I'd met on our stoop earlier in the day. Its as if he'd been cured of whatever ailed him, as if he'd had an infusion!

It was really unnerving and I wondered whether my Missus would agree.

"Ah, devilled eggs! My favourite treat. After all, we should all take a bit of what we fancy" exclaimed the neighbour and popped several half-eggs between his thin red lips, "Exquisite! handy grenades of delicious life, eggs. Don't you think? But where's the cook? I wish to compliment her!"

He twirled his cape wide across the floor and burped loudly as he strode into the kitchen where my wife and her best friend were chatting. The air smelt suddenly goddam terrible and and I felt sick. I noticed with a little fear that my friend's looked sick too.

I clutched my stomach and thankfully staved off vomiting. I wandered towards the kitchen to get some water.

When I stood at the door the scene that confronted me froze my blood with horror and I dropped my beer onto the tile floor with a smash. I couldn't take it in and slapped my face.

Our old neighbour was penetrating my wife pneumatically from the rear with a huge engorged red dick, his hands behind his horned head as if modelling for some damn glamour magazine. Our friend, the Witch, was stark naked and licking the old man's scarlet ass, writhing in ecstasy like some fuckin' python on the floor.

"Ah, Come in Wolfie! Join the fun! I'm not greedy! For some devilish reason I'm just irresistible to women! I say though, your wife make's a damn fine She-Devil cock pocket! ha ha ha ha!" the old bastard laughed.

"What the fuck are ya doin' to my wife you cocksucking fuckin' hobo!" I screamed.

"Why, I'm fuckin' her senseless of course Wolfie! And my dear chap, I'll think you'll find that the Witch has been doin' all the cocksuckin!" he replied with mock indignation, his forked tail whipping round like a dog on heat.

It was then I noticed that his boots had been thrown off and his feet were ... weren't ..... oh, fuck me, they're not feet, they're hooves! Oh my dear God in fuckin' Heaven.

"Oh Him, he's a big party pooper. You didn't invite him too did you! I'm having so much fun again! Next I'll take Dracula, Frankie and then you my dear chap!" roared the neighbour.

I staggered out into the lounge blinking away tears and felt my knees giving way. My two friends came to help me.

"What's wrong?"

"He's fuckin' my wife and your's is fuckin' next!" I shrieked, my face contorting into a maniacal laugh.

"What? For God's sake who are you talking about?" they yelled.

"Our neighbour, the fuckin' Devil. He's really the fuckin' Devil!" I screamed at the top of my voice and knew something had snapped in my mind. I howled with laughter and fell to the carpet as my friends ran to the kitchen.

In my stupor I heard yelps, grunts, slaps, snorts, slits, moans, pain, agony and whimpers until all I heard was silence.

"Exquisite Wolfie my friend, quite delightful. I hope you don't mind, I helped myself to a big plate of ... well, everyone. I forked the whole lot! The best party I've ruined in years!" he sniggered.

As his crimson fork pierced my back with an audible pop, he cackled his thanks for being invited. 

"Great house warming!"

My final view was of the Devil himself walking into the street where goblins and imps were surging over each other's wet convulsing bodies in a sea of flames.

"I'm back!" our neighbour shouted.

"I'm back!"

2 comments:

  1. Hmm, don't think I'll be attending any Halloween parties this year... or talking to the neighbour again. I did enjoy the story though. 'The guest from hell' made me smile, Woodsy :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thanks for reading it Tone. Yes, the phrase Neighbours from Hell was its inspiration! Just waiting for the next idea to hit me now. At the moment, nada!

      Delete