Dark Holme Inner Circle

I lightly knuckle-knocked with the back of my hand. I paused but heard no voices reply, no bed squeaks, not footsteps, nor thumps or dragging sounds.

     A coldness overcame what warmth remained on my outer extremities. Standing there shivering, the cold spread through me. At about this time, bitter stomach acid turned sour in my mouth as my courage left me.

With a deep breath, a sigh, "Lord give me courage." I grabbed the door knob while praying it was still locked. To my surprise, it squeaked as I twisted it. 

     Ever so gently, I pushed the door aside to see inside. An empty room poorly illuminated by the street light streaming in cutting through the dust-filled air.

     Five piles of women's clothes were neatly laid out with a pair of polished shoes on top. One pile I recognised as being a dress my landlady wore to dinner yesterday. 

    Spotting their barefoot steps from those piles to a five-star design drawn in the dust on these floor boards, I gingerly made my way up to this pentagram with candles burning at each point, wondering if devil worshippers had invaded our home, our building? What match would I be against such a coven? My lower intestine gurgled, warning me this was no place for me to be. Dizzy, totally losing my thoughts, I mechanically backed out of that room. Closing the door, I somehow made it back down to my room, where I locked my door.

In the morning, taking a deep breath, I calmly and quietly vacated that boarding house, in search of a new abode

The Next Job Applicant

      I checked the email on my phone again for the response to my job application. It stated, "Come to this address, and tap the karioki on the blood-red door to earn what I deserve."

     I tried and tried to knock the karioki, but I failed every time my knuckles rapped that damn tune on that door.

     In frustration, the applicant in line behind me grabbed my shoulders and tossed me aside. He stepped up to the door, rapped it out, stepped inside and closed the door.

As I stood up, I heard from behind the blood-red door a gastly male scream, a thud against the door. A sickening meat-grinding whining noise vibrated that door. When it stopped, a mechanical voice said, "Next Applicant."

I looked over my shoulder at the long line of other applicants standing there like cattle, mindlessly staring at their phones, all perfectly content humming the karaoke. 

I GOT THE HELL OUT OF THERE.