THE DARK TALES OF A MAINTENANCE MAN: A TRUE STORY

August 19, 2013
chris

A tongue in cheek view of my days doing Apartment Maintenance…

I slowly take each step with the hesitance of a man on his way to the electric chair, one by one I take them as the wind swirls around my feet and the air from my chest begs for release.

The last step taken I looked around at the darkened walls of cement, aged with time they take on a grizzly facade of torture, misery and loss.

Walking as each step booms ever out ward for the creatures that lurked behind the doors to hear, letting them know I am here, letting them know the man they had waited for was finally with them.

Each step louder than the first, I silently gasp as all the muscles in my body tense with fear. I feel my bowels as they clench with their impending doom.

Shadows at the foot of the doors let me know they were stirring. Whispers in the darkened corners tell me they are waiting.

They waited for me to enter the center of their domain. Once there I am doomed, once there I am lost to the warm light that teases my mind, as it cascades down the stairs. I wonder why I let myself become the food for these things.

I wonder why I was the fool instead of the victor.

The bag I hold feels hot from the fear that pours out of my hands. It felt heavier than when I first set out upon this journey. Its contents jingles with an out of tune dullness that seemed to echo through the empty hall.

Slowly a door begins to open, the light from within is almost blinding in comparison to the darkness I had quickly become accustomed too. Its beam spreads across the floor revealing the dirt and sadness of times past. The dust and lost souls now long forgotten in the cracks.

Open to its fullest a figure appears almost eclipsing the light causing me to be blinded and helpless, lost in the darkness for this thing to take my soul at its will.

“Finally you’re here,” it rasps. Faintly in my blinded state, I could just make out the forked tongue as it slavered across it’s moisten lips.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with it but every time I try to flush the water keeps backing up”

Nodding in defeat, I enter the room wondering what my family was doing at that exact moment, hoping I would see them again, wishing I were some place else.

A sharp smell cuts into my senses and I can do nothing but cringe slightly with distaste. An odor that feels as if it were dragging my entrails out of my mouth causes me to gag silently. A fake cough sends it too its doom as I sidestep a pile of rotting pestilence neatly wrapped in plastic.

A card hangs from the ceiling like a martyr. Its final message is from a mother to her child, it hangs from rotting lips twisting silently in the forgotten breeze, that cries from a broken window that sits encrusted in the dusts of time.

Through the hallway I go, feeling the sweat as it slides down my back, pooling at the base of my spine. The room is strangely cooler than I thought it would be yet still that smell would not leave me. Clawing at my feet, begging for recognition. Kicking it to the side, I continue to follow this demon bride as she ushers me to my doom.

In the corner of the room, as we pass silently through, I see a collection of death. VHS tapes litter the ground in some macabre act of self-sacrifice, pleading to the Gods for salvation, yet finding none.

For all, it seemed in this place was lost to God. Once entering the gates of Hell, do we the sheep, lose sight of the Lord?

Onward, I stumble until the site of my fate enclosed me. A small room dimly lit. The bulb flickers, giving this place an eerie glow. The bride steps aside and shows me the horrors upon the floor.

Toilet paper and things I am unable to even identify litter the soft yellow flooring. I am sure, in the back of my mind; it was once a brilliant white. Now it only resembles a deepening yellow, like a smoker that should have died years ago.

Somewhere in the room, a fly screams its mantra of annoyance, never ending until the time comes. I get to work, feeling this thing standing behind me, watching… waiting, almost for the chance to reach out and steal my soul.

Within minutes the block is cleared. My shoes make a sickening squeak on the urine soaked floor… and the fly it screams no more.

I pack my things and hurry to make my way back out into the light. This demon bride thanks me with empty words of gratefulness, never truly believing what it is she says as she says them.

I nod and make my way back into the darkened hall; the smell still sticking to me begins to slowly make its way back into her home, sliding under the door in search of something porous it can conquer.

I make my way as silent as possible towards the light. The urine on my shoes squeaks with each step. I try to hurry but it only makes it louder. Yet I begin to feel the warmth, begin to feel the happiness at knowing I will see my family again. Never once noticing a door just off to the side begin to open.

As I make my way into the light, a withered hand grabs me, holding me in my place. A dark voice whispers somewhere behind me “I have a problem with my sink… I need you to come and fix it right away”

With that said, a force stronger than I have known, drags me into the darkness once again. The soft screams from my soul beg for the light, as an evil laugh tells it I am lost forever more.