Tenants

by Christopher Motz

"What are you talking about, you crazy bitch? You know what? It doesn't even matter. I'm out of here."

  Christian tried sliding past Audrey, but she stepped into his path and bared her teeth like a wild animal. He jumped back and raised his fists in front of him like a boxer. He knew this wouldn't end well if he couldn't shut her up... for good if necessary.

  "Put your hands down," Audrey demanded. "You look like a fool."

  "And you're about to look like a battered wife if you don't get the fuck out of my way. Do you think knocking your teeth out will be the worst thing I've done in the past few days?"

  "Now you're just trying to turn me on."

  Christian pulled his arm back with every intention of breaking her nose, but strong fingers wrapped around his wrist, squeezed, and yanked his arm behind his back with a loud pop. The gristle in his shoulder snapped and cracked as his arm was wrenched upward until his hand touched the back of his head. His screams were met by Audrey's wild laughter. Finding Linda was now at the bottom of his list.

  "Now you've met the landlord," she said. "I suggest you take up your concerns with him."

  Al Sterling spun Christian around to face him as the color drained from his face. His arm dangled at his side uselessly as Al slammed him against the wall and held his forearm across Christian's neck. Christian sputtered and tried to speak, but his windpipe was constricted and the pain in his shoulder made it difficult to focus.

  "So we meet again," Al said. "Something told me you wouldn't be able to stay away."

  "Get... the fuck... off me!"

  "It's too late for that. You've seen things you were never meant to see. You've come here to harm Linda, and I can't abide such a thing in my house. You understand, don't you?"

  "I'll kill you!" Christian sputtered.

  "That's very clever. Brave to the last... or just plain stupid. If you stop struggling for a moment and pay attention, I'll tell you exactly what's going to happen."

  "Fuck you!"

  Al pinched Christian's nose between his thumb and forefinger and twisted until the cartilage snapped and blood poured over his lips and dripped from his chin.

  "Every time you interrupt, I'm going to break something. Nod if you understand."

  Christian sucked bloody snot into his mouth and spit in Al's face, thinking if he could catch him off guard, he'd have a chance to wiggle from his grasp and run for the entrance. Instead, Al squeezed Christian's cheeks together like an angry grandmother, reached into his mouth, and tore one of Christian's teeth from his gums.

  "You see this?" Al asked as he held the bloody tooth between his fingers. "You have thirty-one more of these, and I have no problem removing each and every one. I guess it won't matter, you'll never need them again, but I have to warn you, it's going to hurt like hell."

  "Just let me go," Christian said. "We'll forget this ever happened and you'll never see me again."

  "I think we both know that's a lie. Next time you'll come back with a knife or a gun or a few friends, and I'd have no choice but to kill all of you. As much as it may seem to you that I enjoy doing this, I really abhor violence."

  "I won't, I swear to God! You'll never see me again."

  "God isn't listening. Not here and certainly not to you."

  Audrey opened the cellar door from where she'd come minutes before. Al grabbed Christian around the throat, dragged him to the door, and thrust him forward. Christian tumbled down the stairs with a clatter and hit the concrete floor on his chest. The pain in his arm was a distant sensation. His crooked nose bled freely and the gaping hole in his gums throbbed and tingled. He tried to stand but his leg buckled beneath him as the bone of his fractured tibia pierced his flesh. His vision blurred to shades of gray, and then to black as he was carried away on a sea of pain.

  He knew this was one battle he wouldn't win.

  If only he'd brought the gun with him...

  But would it have done any good against them?

  Were they even human?

  Could they be killed?

  Christian screamed as someone grabbed his ankle and dragged him away.

  The cellar door slammed behind him.

  Chapter 13

  When Linda opened her eyes, the apartment was dark. All she'd wanted was a quick nap, an hour or two to clear her head, but instead, she'd slept most of the afternoon. Her normal sleep cycle was so far gone, she had begun losing track of the days. Even when the sun was shining - which seemed less and less lately - the apartment was always dim and shadowy.

  She stood, poured a glass of water, and leaned over the counter for support. She felt weak and shaky as if she'd gone on another bender the night before, but she was sure she didn't have any alcohol in the apartment. Images swam through her head of talking to Audrey, and of sitting in an empty restaurant while it rained outside, but when had those things happened? It was as if her body was on auto-pilot. She remembered certain details, but she couldn't piece them together. To Linda, it felt like falling asleep during a movie and waking up somewhere in the middle, where the faces looked the same but the story was hard to understand.

  She put the glass in the sink, turned on the lamp next to the couch, and sat with a sigh. She knew television would be useless, but she turned it on anyway. At least it would distract her.

  When her cell phone rang, she jumped and stared at it as if it would bite. She looked at the number and sighed with relief.

  "Hello? Mom?"

  "Linda, have you been watching the news?"

  "The news? No, why?"

  "Your store is burning," her mother said.

  Linda said nothing before flipping through the channels to find the local station. Sure enough, a reporter was standing in the parking lot at a safe distance as flames ate through the roof and reached into the darkening sky.

  "My God, what happened?" she asked.

  "They said it started in the back of the building, near the manager's office. Linda... they found a body."

  "What?"

  "Early this morning they found one of the night managers in a back room, but they haven't released any details. Then just a few hours later, this happened."

  That explains all the calls, she thought. They'd been trying to reach her to tell her what had happened and she'd ignored it. Not like it would matter now. Looks like her vacation would be extended after all.

  "Did they say what happened?"

  "Not really, just that a man had been found dead and that it appeared to be a robbery or something. Oh, Linda, you can't go back there. It's not safe."

  "Mom, I don't think that's going to be an issue. The place will be a burned-out shell in no time."

  "That's beside the point," her mother said. "A man was killed..."

  "Mom, I heard you. Relax. I was thinking of transferring to another store, anyway. I don't want to commute an hour to work."

  "Then you'll lose your position. You'll be back to bagging groceries. You can't afford that apartment on a cashier's wage."

  "I'll figure it out. You're more upset about this than I am."

  "There was a dead body, Linda! A dead body!"

  "Jesus Christ, Mom, you don't have to keep repeating yourself."

  There was brief silence on the other end of the phone before her father's much calmer voice spoke into her ear.

  "You know how your mother gets," he said. "Cut her some slack."

  "I know, Dad. I didn't mean to yell at her."

  "Are you okay? You sound tired."

  "I guess. I haven't been sleeping very well."

  "You want us to visit? I'm sure your mother would like that... maybe bring some of her world-famous chili? I'm sure you're tired of eating fast food by now."

  "Thank you, but no. I'm still trying to get the place in order. It's very different here. It's so quiet."

  "You'll get used to it, kiddo. Give it a chance."

  Linda looked up at the TV and shook her head. "What the hell am I going to do now? Mom is right about one thing, I can't afford to go back to bagg
ing groceries."

  "There are other stores. You don't have to worry about that right now. You know your mother and I will help you as much as we can."

  "I know that, but you can't always bail me out when I'm in trouble. How am I ever going to do things on my own if you and Mom keep stepping in and saving the day?"

  "That's what parents are for," her father said with a laugh. "Let's call it an advance on your inheritance."

  "Is Mom getting the story straight? Did they really find a body?"

  "The news has been pretty vague, but yeah. Overnight staff found him early this morning, but that's really all anyone knows."

  "It's awful," she said. "I know all those managers. They're my friends. Roger, Brian, Debbie. What a shame."

  "I'm sorry, really, but don't get yourself worked up over this."

  "It's not that easy. I saw these people every day..."

  "I understand that, but what are you going to do about it? It happened. It's terrible, but it happened and you can't do anything to change that."

  Linda wanted to cry but knew her father would immediately grab his keys and drive an hour in the dark just to make sure she was okay.

  "It can't be a coincidence," she said. "Whoever did it must have set the place on fire to cover their tracks." Her father's silence was all she needed. She could see him shrugging his shoulders, the same way he always did when on the phone with others, as if they could see his body language through the receiver.

  "Are you sure you're okay? You're not coming down with something?"

  "No, I'm clearly not okay, but I will be. It's just that... everything's changing." She thought of telling him about Lenny and Theresa but kept it to herself. If Thomas knew what Lenny had done, he'd track him down and kill him.

  "Did you meet any new people there? Make some new friends?"

  "There's a girl next door, Audrey. She's pretty nice."

  "See, you're already finding new friends. You don't just show up and expect everyone to love you."

  "I didn't expect anyone to roll out the red carpet, but I haven't even seen anyone else. It's like these people hibernate."

  "You're not used to living on your own yet. It takes time."

  Linda was transfixed by the images on her television screen. How could something like this happen? In the last week, everything she had known had changed. Her fresh start had been tarnished and the only person she could talk to was the stranger from down the hall. Her parents wouldn't understand what was happening. How could she possibly explain the situation with Theresa or the secret door in her pantry without them thinking she was losing her mind?

  "Honey? Are you there?" Thomas asked.

  "Yeah, sorry. I got lost in the TV for a minute."

  "Turn it off, take a hot bath, and get an early night. Things always look clearer in the morning."

  Sometimes they look a lot worse, she thought.

  "Okay, you're right. Tell Mom I'm sorry for snapping at her."

  "It's not her first day as a mother. I'm sure she understands."

  "I'll talk to you soon. I'll invite you both down once I get things straightened out."

  "Take your time. We're here when you need us."

  "Love you, Dad."

  "Love you too, Linny."

  She hung up and scowled. She hated that nickname, but no matter how many times she'd told her father as much, he still used it now and again. She sat back just as the news ended, leaving her with more questions than answers. She could easily call one of her co-workers and find out what they knew, but she didn't have the energy to deal with more negativity. Surely by tomorrow, the details would be all over the Internet, anyway.

  She wished she had a few beers in the refrigerator to take the edge off.

  She took her father's advice and filled the bathtub with water so hot it was nearly unbearable. After a few minutes, her body adjusted and she slipped deeper, letting the steam open her sinuses and soothe the tension in her muscles. Before long, she drifted off.

  ***

  Something was wrong.

  A small, black insect trundled across Christian's face and tickled his skin. He went to swat it away but his arms weren't getting the message. He tried sitting up but realized he couldn't feel his legs either. There was a dull, throbbing ache in his mouth from where Al had taken his tooth and his broken nose was clogged with dried blood, but the sharp pain from his fractured leg was strangely absent. He felt small stones digging into his back and grinding into his shoulder blades, but he could feel nothing in his extremities.

  "What the fuck did you do to me?" he shouted. "Come out here you bastard!"

  There was only a faint hint of light from a distant bulb, not enough to see his surroundings or what was making those strange chattering noises in the dark. For the first time in his life, Christian realized he'd picked a fight with someone even crazier than himself.

  "You tore out my tooth, you son of a bitch! You're going to have to pay for that!"

  "Oh, I doubt that, Christian," Al Sterling said.

  "How do you know my name? What has that stupid bitch told you about me?"

  "She didn't have to say a word. I understood the kind of person you were the second I laid eyes on you. Egomaniac, narcissist, bully. Did you come here to kill Linda? My Linda?"

  "Your Linda? I knew it! You're fucking her, you son of a bitch! Let me up! Turn on the lights and let's see what you can do when you're not sneaking up behind me like a coward!"

  "You're a big talker, Christian. Do you think just because you killed that man it makes you some hard-ass gangster?"

  "What? How do you know about that? Who are you people?"

  "We know everything," Audrey said from the shadows. "The man at the store, the police officer you dumped along the side of the road. You haven't done anything in the past few days we aren't aware of."

  "But we've taken care of it," Al added. "Covered your tracks for you."

  "They'll never find that cop or his car, and by the time anyone notices you haven't shown up to work in a few days, you'll be long gone."

  "And the store where you killed that poor night manager will be nothing more than a pile of smoking debris."

  "You've been following me," Christian said. "You assholes have been tailing me ever since Linda opened her mouth."

  "This isn't about Linda," Audrey said. "Do you think you're a criminal mastermind? You've been driving around in that tacky sports car for days. You're not exactly hard to pick out of a lineup."

  "We've taken care of the car as well."

  "They'll be finding pieces of that thing for years."

  "Goddamn you! Let me up! What did you do to me?" Christian asked. "I can't feel my fucking arms or legs!"

  Audrey giggled as another light clicked on nearby. Christian turned his head away and hissed as the glow stung his eyes.

  "What's so fucking funny?" he shouted. "Oh, you'll get what's coming to you. Mark my words. When I get out of here, I'm going to burn you both to the ground!"

  When his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw Audrey and Al standing a dozen feet to his right, surrounding an old wooden table that dripped black liquid onto the concrete floor. On its surface were familiar shapes he instantly recognized, but he couldn't make sense of what he was seeing.

  "What... what is that?" he asked.

  "What? This?" Al asked. He reached down and picked up one of the objects with both hands and held it out in front of him like an offering. "Don't you recognize the tattoo?"

  The sound that escaped Christian's mouth sounded like a tortured animal.

  Christian's severed right arm hung between Al's hands, bent at the elbow and dripping blood onto the dusty floor.

  "You cut off my fucking arm!" Christian shrieked. The babbling cries that followed no longer resembled human speech.

  "Oh, we did better than that," Audrey said. "We cut off your other arm... and your legs, too!"

  "MY GOD! HELP ME! HELP!"

  "He doesn't sound so tough anymore," Al
said.

  Audrey nodded in agreement.

  When Christian stopped screaming, he lifted his head from the floor and looked down at what was left of his body. He was nothing more than a torso. His arms and legs had been removed; the puckered flesh around his shoulders and hips had been folded and stapled, resembling fresh pastry dough filled with strawberry preserves. The worst thing - as if it mattered - was the fresh, gaping hole where his penis had been.

  "You... you sick... you took my cock," he said. "You cut off my FUCKING DICK!"

  "You're not going to need it anymore," Audrey said.

  "Guy finds out he's missing all his limbs but only worries about his penis. Is it any wonder the human race is facing extinction?"

  "You can have it back if it'll make you feel any better," Audrey said.

  Christian heard none of this as he vomited, spraying bile and undigested food into the air like a water fountain. Unable to turn over, he choked on it, shaking his head side to side to clear his airway. Al went to his side and rolled him onto his chest with his foot as Christian continued gagging and spitting out strings of saliva. Now on his stomach, Christian had a hard time turning his head far enough to see what they were doing. Audrey joined Al, and with a laugh, dropped a shriveled piece of flesh to the floor in front of Christian's face.

  "There," she said. "If I thought you would have wanted to keep it, I wouldn't have wasted the time cutting it off."

  "Remember what I told you in the store?" Al asked Christian. "I plan on going through with that promise. Pigeons will eat anything... all I have to do is leave it in the gutter."

  Christian closed his eyes and turned away as his severed penis stared at him accusingly.

  "Why... why did you do this?" Christian bellowed. "What's wrong with you?"

  "Wrong with us? There's nothing wrong with us," Audrey said.

  "If you had stayed away and forgotten your petty jealousies, this would have never happened. You brought it on yourself."

  "Let me go," Christian said weakly.

  "Let you go? You're dumber than I thought," Audrey said. "Where would you go? How would you get there? You're like a spider that has had its legs removed by a curious child."

  "You should have left Linda alone," Al said.