The Increasingly Spooky Roommate

Lately, things have been pretty tense around the ol’ homestead. Every time I leave my room to use the bathroom or get something from the kitchen I find that I’m on edge. Why so uncomfortable, you ask? In my own residence, you wonder? Well, as some of the more recent posts will inform you, ever since Pepper was fired from…the mission…her behavior has become increasingly bizarre. At first I thought she was simply going through a period of adjustment, but recent events have persuaded me to think otherwise—I’m now quite certain that she’s got a few screws loose in that furry head of hers.

After our heated confrontation in the living room the other day, Pepper mysteriously vanished. At first I wasn’t concerned. I mean, normally she can be found relaxing in her favorite chair by the television. However, when I would check to see if she was there (and I confess, I did this often), I would find it unoccupied. My first assumption was that she had taken off for a while; undoubtedly to blow off some steam; to get her thoughts in order. But a part of me knew that she wasn’t gone. I could sense her presence. Yes, she was trained by the best, and her stealth and skill are unparalleled; but when those hairs stood up on the back of my neck, I knew she was close by... Watching.

Earlier this evening, things got really weird—at laundry time.

See, the electricity rates were recently increased, so in order to avoid paying out the ass, it is now essential to use major appliances after ten o’clock at night whenever possible. I had been neglecting my laundry for quite a while, so with a ball of T-shirts under my arm, I ventured into the basement—Pepper’s apartment. Her “lair.” It is there, in the darkest corner, that the washer and dryer are located. I was nervous, yes; but I had to get a wash done, and I wasn’t about to let my increasingly spooky roommate dictate my routine. And besides, I reasoned, she probably did take off for a while.

The old, wooden steps creaked as I cautiously descended into the darkness. With my free hand, I urgently palmed the drywall for the light switch. Locating it, I smiled in relief and batted it on. The cellar strobed once or twice, and I heard the bulb rattle.

ZZ-TINKK!!

Burnt out—shit!

I quickly determined that this was not going to keep me from getting my clothes cleaned, and stomped down the remaining stairs in my socked feet and over to the washer. The air was moist and had that earthy, springtime smell. I hastily tossed the clothes in the machine, added the detergent, twisted the knobs into place and pressed the start button. Piece of cake.

As I was about to go back upstairs, though, something in the corner caught my eye. As I kneeled down to investigate, I discovered what appeared to be a crucifix made of old bones!



They had been gnawed clean, and were crudely affixed to one another with a piece of twine.
Horrified, I stood up to leave, but stopped dead in my tracks when I saw them—the two gleaming, yellow eyes that hovered along the ground towards me.

“P-Pepper!” I choked, grasping my chest. “You—you scared me.”

“’P-P-P-P-Pepper’!” she mocked. “What the hell are you doing in fucking apartment?!”

“—I’m just—just doing a wash,” I responded. “You’ve never had a problem with it in the past, so I don’t see why—”

“Just doing a wash, huh?” she interrupted, her eyes flashing towards the corner. “Since when does ‘doing a wash’ require you to root through my shit!?”

“Look, Pepper, I was just leaving when I saw something strange in the corner and—”

“—Strange?” she rejoined, growing more irate. “Are you implying that my handiwork is in some way less than ‘normal’? That I’m some sort of fucking lunatic because my conception of art differs from your own? Is that it, asshole?! Is that what you really came down here for? To give me some fucking lecture?!”



As she talked, she stepped closer, causing me to press my back against the crumbly brick wall. I tried desperately to think of something to say that would calm her down, but realized that being diplomatic was probably not the best option. So, fearing for my safety, I decided to use my legs—which are significantly longer than hers—to my advantage, and jumped over her body in the direction of the stairs.

“That’s right," I heard her say. "Get the fuck outta here!"

She could have easily caught up with me, but instead chose to sit and watch as I disappeared onto the next level and to the safety of my room, where I am now. At present, I’m in no state of mind to try and figure out Pepper’s behavior, or why she would make decorations out of bones, so I’ll have to do that at a later date—if, of course, no harm comes to me before then.