Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Blood Ties	By : maiafay376 Category: +S through Z > Silent Hill Views: 6706 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Silent Hill, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Moving in, meetings, and a stranger named Walter...
---------------------------Chapter 2: Room 303---------------------------
�Now just sign here Mr. Morgan,� the super said, clearing his throat and pointing to the tiny black �x� at the bottom of the lease. �And you�ll receive the keys to your new apartment. I have two that go to your door, plus one for the mailbox, and then I�ll give you another if you rent out a storage unit. Please don�t lose the mailbox key, or you�ll have to pay for the replacement--� the older man coughed, and then turned his head away to continue coughing until his face flushed a bright, fervent pink. Daniel wrinkled his forehead in concern, but before he could ask if everything was okay the super regained his composure and thumped his chest with a hearty growl.
�Sorry �bout that. Blasted allergies�always get �em this time of year. Excuse me a second, would you?� The super smiled in apology and then grabbed a handful of Kleenex. Daniel sat through the boisterous honks and snuffing with a straight face, though he could feel his lips twitching in betrayal. Satisfied, the super wiped the his now red nose, and threw the tissue in the trashcan under his desk. �Anyway, �bout the key,� he continued without missing a beat, �I�m afraid no exceptions on the cost of the replacement. When one is lost, I have to go through and completely change the locks, so it�ll be thirty dollars per key. The laundry room is in the basement and open �round the clock, and all week long. But, just to let you know, washer number two is touchy--and if you �have� to use washer five, don�t overload it past the black line or you�ll cause it to overflow�actually--never mind, just stay away from washer number five��
As the older man babbled about the washers, and then droned about the dryers and how to jingle number two before using it, Daniel found his mind drifting to the photo nestled inside his wallet. That woman�s eyes seemed dark; not in color, but in expression and personality. He knew from experience that the windows to the soul were sometimes foggy, and Daniel could tell she was about as inscrutable as they came. What did his father see in her? Why did he leave her? Where did they meet? How did they meet? These questions chased themselves inside his head, and he began daydreaming about Silent Hill, and what his father might have been like back then. Was he was a tourist seeking a good time? Maybe he had just moved into town and wanted a fresh start. It was the late sixties, so it was plausible that his father was one of those hippies with bad hair and bellbottom jeans; maybe this Dahlia girl burned her bras and lived in a van painted with daisies and rainbows�
The superintendent cleared his throat and tapped the side of his head. �Hmm, what else?�I know I�m forgetting something--damn it, you�d think I�d have this memorized by now--ah, yes�the mail. The mail usually comes around two in the afternoon, but can be sometimes as late as five, or as early as eleven. I have storage units available and you can rent them monthly. They�re located next to the laundry room. But, if you need one for more than a month, I can rent to you at a discount. Let me know either way because I only have two left.�
Frank Sunderland raised his eyebrows in question, forcing Daniel to respond for the first time since the super began talking. Daniel blinked in confusion, but nodded anyway as he tried to remember what the super had asked.
�So, you want the storage unit?�
�What? Oh, no, no--I don�t need one.�
�You just nodded your head yes.�
�Sorry, I didn�t mean to, I was kinda spacing out.�
The super grunted with irritation, masking another cough as his expression soured. �Are you going to make me repeat myself son? Did you hear anything I just told you?�
�Well, I remember the allergies, when you blew your nose, and the key part��
�So me blowing my honker was the highlight of our conversation, eh?�
Daniel had the decency to look ashamed. �I�m sorry, sir. I have a lot on my mind.�
�Yes, I know how that is. Moving can be tough, especially if you�re on your own.� Mr. Sunderland sighed, and he tapped the papers in his hand. �I have a few more forms that need your autograph. Just sign on the bottom here and date it. Then sign this one, and initial the one underneath. After that, all I need is your security deposit and we�ll be all set.�
Daniel nodded and grabbed the pen next to him. He sat at Mr. Sunderland�s coffee table, every form he had to sign spread upon it like an oversized game of solitaire. The room was small, the colors cream and tan, with many pictures hanging on the wall. All displayed either scenic landscapes or old buildings. There was writing below each one, but it was too tiny to make out from where he was sitting. Rain pelted the window with a soft �ping�; the gloomy weather had begun just as he rolled into town. The super watched him for a moment, and then grunted as if he remembered something. �Oh, I walked through your room and noted everything that needed repair. I�m aware the right window sticks in the living room, the dings on the kitchen counter, and that black splotch on the linen closet wall. You do have new carpeting and a fresh coat of paint in the bathroom, along with new faucets and a new toilet. All the furniture�s in decent shape--�
�Furniture? You mean it comes fully furnished?� Daniel handed the super his papers with a frown. From their phone conversation, he could not recall if the super had told him the apartment came with furniture or not.
Mr. Sunderland gave him a puzzled glance, looking over the forms to make sure Daniel had signed everything properly. �Yes son, don�t you remember? That was the first thing I mentioned to you along with the website for the virtual tour. Then we haggled over the price of rent and the security deposit.�
�Oh. I�m sorry,� Daniel could feel his cheeks warming, �but I don�t have access to the internet except for the library. I must have been distracted when we talked. My father had just passed away, and--�
The super started in his chair and his face drained of color. �Oh son�I�m so sorry. Why didn�t you tell me this on the phone?�
Daniel cringed at the words �I�m sorry� and tried not to look annoyed. He despised strangers telling him they were �sorry for his loss�, or patting him on the shoulder while giving him their �condolences�. It all was so fake and meaningless. As if they really cared that his father was dead. Had they knew him? No, how could they? He never knew Old Ben himself.
Mr. Sunderland saw the irritation and regarded Daniel with a candid frown. He leaned back in his chair. �Was it natural causes?� he said, his tone was quiet and respectful.
The inquiry surprised Daniel, but after a moments pause he answered: �Yes�and no. No, not if you call drinking your life away �natural�, but yes, his heart finally gave out.�
�I see. And you�re angry about that��
Daniel paused and looked at the wall, distracting himself with the pictures and the way the light reflected off the glass. �Yeah, I am. But there�s nothing I can do about it now. Talking about it only pisses me off, so if you don�t mind, this subject is just a little too personal to be discussing with my new landlord.�
Mr. Sunderland nodded, his blue eyes sad. �I understand son. Taking a loss like that is hard. Especially when it�s your parents. But don�t think that you�re alone, and don�t think no one can relate. Trust me, I�ve had my fair share of loss, so I know how bad the grief can get. If you ever want to talk, I�ll be here.�
Daniel shot him an incredulous look, a mixture of both offense and gratitude. He had no idea how to respond to that. What Mr. Sunderland said completely floored him. He had just met the man, and already he was offering to do what his father�s closest friends never had. His chest seized with sudden emotion, and he stared at the floor, trying to get his tears under control.
�You okay, son?�
�No, not really.�
The super nodded in understanding and waited for Daniel to collect himself. He offered his box of Kleenex, but Daniel waved it away. The rain continued its gentle assault on the window outside, and that muffled sound was the only thing heard for several moments. Finally, Daniel cleared his throat and mustered a weak smile, not quite meeting Mr. Sunderland�s gaze. �Okay�I�m okay now.� he said, trying to lighten the mood. �I--I think you need my security deposit right?� He began reaching for his wallet, fighting to free the slender leather from his back pocket.
�Son, don�t worry about it.�
Daniel halted his motions and stared at the super. �What?�
Mr. Sunderland gave him a sympathetic smile and a dismissive wave of his hand. �I would know if you were lying to me about your father, and I see plainly you�re not. I want to make things a little easier for you son, since the next few months will probably be the worst. I would know; they were hell for me when I had lost my James.�
Daniel sat back in his chair and tried to control another flood of tears. At the rate he was going, he would be in hysterics by the time he left the office. �Thank you--you, you didn�t have to do that.�
�Just�don�t advertise it, okay?�
Daniel nodded with gratitude and took a deep breath. He studied the super for a moment as the older man slipped the lease forms inside a manila folder, and then filed it within the wooden cabinet next to the desk. Mr. Sunderland was average height, with a full head of silver hair and pale blue eyes. His lean face and manner were a pleasant one; the kind that disarmed people upon the first meeting. He wore a plain sweatshirt tucked into a pair of dark brown slacks, and overall, conveyed a sense of fatherly benevolence.
�So, if you don�t mind me asking sir�� Daniel said, his manner hesitant since he was unsure how personal he could get, �but who was James? Was he your son?�
The super eyed him a moment, the space between his eyebrows pinching together, and then sighed. �Yes, he was. My son and daughter-in-law disappeared some years ago. Both just up and left without a word to anyone; all their belongings abandoned, bank accounts left open--the only thing the police found was that old car of his, parked along the outskirts of Silent Hill. No trace of James or Mary anywhere.�
Daniel felt a chill snake through him at the mention of Silent Hill again, and wondered at this strange coincidence. That was the third reference made to the abandoned town in the past week, and it made him uneasy. What did it mean?
As the super kept talking, Daniel could see the weariness in his eyes, the droop in his posture--as the years of not knowing must have taken a toll on his physical wellbeing. Mr. Sunderland leaned his elbows on his knees, his eyes shining a little. �Now,� he continued, his voice hoarse, �I just want closure�it tears me up not knowing what happened. I almost wish they would find the bodies--at least then I could get a decent night�s rest. But what can I do about it now? I have to move on, even though it�s the hardest damn thing a father can do.� The super then looked away and Daniel squirmed in his seat.
Good job Daniel, you made your landlord cry�
He sat in silence until Mr. Sunderland became animate again. The older man gave a sharp cough, then slapped his knees and rose. �Well, how about we take a look at your new apartment hmm? I got the keys here, let�s just take a little walk up the stairs and I�ll show you room 303.�
The super gave him a bright smile but Daniel could tell that Mr. Sunderland was still troubled. He decided to ignore it and just plastered his own big, fake grin as he stood. �Sure, I�m ready.�
Mr. Sunderland nodded, his false smile still in place and opened the door to his office. He motioned for Daniel to follow as he started down the hall and through the lobby doors.
No one was present in the large room, though Daniel could hear the sounds of music and television coming from the apartments above. The super showed him where the mailboxes were, and then gave him a small silver key to number 303. They proceeded up the stairs, with Mr. Sunderland discussing the pool area he planned to install, but it would not be ready until the next summer. Daniel listened with detached interest and his gaze wandered over the newly painted walls and plush brown carpet. He knew this apartment complex was old, but it appeared in decent shape. Mr. Sunderland cared enough to make sure it was clean and presented well.
As they entered the third floor, Daniel observed it was chillier than the one below, as if the air conditioning was set too high. He made a comment about it, but the super just shrugged. �This floor is always cold. Sometimes it doesn�t even need the air on. Don�t know why, but it saves my electric bill.�
Then the super switched the subject, commenting that no bicycles or skateboards were allowed in the hall. �Too many people trip on those damn things, and I just want to make sure if you have these items--don�t leave them lying around! If I find them I keep them, understand?�
Daniel nodded in compliance, not really concerned since he owned neither a bike nor skateboard. His attention refocused on an older woman who had just exited room 301. She was dressed in a prim mauve colored housedress, the kind Daniel usually saw only on older TV shows. It fell to a respectable length, just below the knee, and a light blue shawl adorned her shoulders. A simple barrette pulled half of her hair back, letting the rest of the mousy brown locks flow over her shoulders. She walked toward them, her pace brisk until she saw them. Then she lowered her eyes and hunched her shoulders as if trying to avoid their scrutiny.
�Ms. Porter! How are you doing this afternoon?� said Mr. Sunderland in a loud, booming voice. The woman flinched, and Daniel wondered if the super spoke pitched his voice like that on purpose. �I want to introduce Mr. Daniel Morgan; he�ll be staying just down the hall here, in room 303.� The super smiled at the woman, even though she pressed her lips together in annoyance. She blinked and looked at Daniel, sizing him up. The moment grew tense, and then flat-out awkward. Daniel felt his cheeks warm again and he cleared his throat.
�I�m pleased to meet you ma�am,� he said, his hand extending and hovering in space. She pursed her lips and grimaced, but rewarded him with a limp shake.
�Hello Mr. Morgan, my name is Gladys. I suppose we�ll be neighbors now won�t we?� She gave him a lukewarm smile and dropped her eyes, hugging the white purse she carried close to her body. �I�m afraid I�m on my way out Mr. Sunderland. So, if you will excuse me��
�Of course Ms. Porter, I�m sorry to keep you.�
Gladys gave a little nod and darted toward the stairwell, casting them a irritated glance as she hastened down the stairs. Mr. Sunderland watched her for a moment until she was out of earshot. Then he shook his head with amusement.
�A bit of a snob I�m afraid, but she�s a kind woman. She�s a decent cook too if you can get on her good side. I think men intimidate her though, so she may not warm up for a while. Come on, your room is this way.�
Daniel nodded and followed the super around the corner, and stopped in front of room 303. He waited behind as the super unlocked it, opening the door wide enough for Daniel to step through.
It was smaller than he had hoped, but it indeed, came fully furnished. It was generic furniture, with neutral colors and beige carpeting. Blinds covered each window, closed, and were a shade of soft white. The super strolled forward and cracked them open, allowing gray light from the outside to illuminate the living room. The kitchen was modest, nothing fancy, but did have a good-sized fridge and a gas stove. The tile was the same color as the blinds, cracking a little next to the counter, but otherwise, was in decent shape.
�The bedroom�s through here.�
Daniel wandered after the super, peeking into the renovated bathroom before joining him down the hall. The bedroom was a nice size, plenty of room for a twin bed and drafting desk to fit at the same time. Two windows sat side by side, covered in the same color blinds as the living room and showed a nice view of the courtyard below. He walked through it slowly, his gaze coming to rest on a short dresser that sat against the far wall.
�This comes with the room too?� Daniel approached it and opened a few drawers, noting the inside was clean and dust free. It appeared feminine, with flowers decorating the handles and leaves trailing along the edges. The super cleared his throat, his discomfort palpable, and caused Daniel to regard him in puzzlement.
�Well, that was left by one of the tenants a few years ago, and I just keep it in here for decoration really. You can have stored if you want, no charge.�
�Why didn�t she take it with her?�
The super opened his mouth, but then closed it and looked out the window. He sighed again, and Daniel had been around the older man long enough to recognize his �burdened� sigh. �Well, you�re going to hear it sooner or later, so I�ll just tell you now. A woman lived here by the name of Eileen Galvin. Someone attacked her in the living room, and she died later of her injuries. No one knows who did it, or why--�
�Someone was killed in the living room? When were you going to tell me? Is this why the rent�s so cheap?�
Mr. Sunderland pressed his lips and then crossed his arms behind his back, looking guilty. �Yes, truthfully, this is why the rent�s so cheap. There was someone last year who moved in, but he didn�t stay very long. Complained of noises and strange �feelings� he had--kept saying it felt like he was being watched.�
�So this room is haunted?�
�Well, I don�t know for certain son, but--�
Daniel suddenly grinned, giving a soft chuckle as he ran his fingers over the wood of the dresser. �Cool. I don�t mind really. I�ve never been in a place that was truly haunted before. I always used to love that stuff when I was a kid. Trying to find ghosts and such. My mother hated it though, told me to keep it on the canvas and not pursue things that I wouldn�t understand. I admit it�s a bit creepy knowing someone practically died in my living room, but I think I can handle it.�
�You�re an artist then?� The super looked relieved to change the subject and his posture relaxed somewhat.
�Yeah, I�m trying to get back into it. I left it alone while my father was--well, I had to concentrate on other things for a time.�
Mr. Sunderland looked thoughtful, and gestured to the hall. �Did you see the bathroom?� he asked.
�Yeah, it looks great.�
�Well, let me know if the water comes out okay. I ran the pipes through yesterday and it seemed fine. But you never know with new plumbing, it could start acting up a day from now, or two weeks from now. So, be sure to let me know if you have any problems--I can�t fix it if no one tells me. That goes for anything here, not just the bathroom.�
�Okay. I�ll be sure to tell you the moment something messes up.� Daniel joked and walked down the hall into the living room. Mr. Sunderland followed and watched as Daniel peeked into drawers and opened the closet.
�That used to be the laundry room, but I took the units out. Gives me a reason to make the room cheaper. Some of the apartments still have a washer and dryer, but most don�t anymore. As I said, the laundry room downstairs is free and never closed. So, I hope that won�t be a problem.�
�No, not at all. Thanks.�
�Ready for your keys?�
Daniel turned and smiled as he saw the hesitant expression on the super�s face. �Yeah. Don�t worry. I�m not running away. Seriously, the past of this place doesn�t bother me; in fact, it makes it more appealing.�
�You�re a strange boy,� the super cocked an eyebrow, and plopped the keys in Daniel�s outstretched hand. �If you need anything, let me know. You need help moving in?�
Daniel shook his head as he slid the keys onto his key ring. �No, I should be fine.�
�You sure? I�m on my way out for the afternoon, so I won�t be around the next few hours if you do need help.� The super walked toward the door, and turned in question.
�No, it�s okay. The only heavy thing I have is my couch, but I should be fine. Thanks.�
�Well, alright then. Welcome to Ashfield Heights Mr. Morgan--�
�Daniel.�
The super smiled and bobbed his head. �Okay son, since we are on first name basis, please stop calling me Mr. Sunderland. It makes me feel old. I�m already old, so reminding me doesn�t help. It�s Frank from now on, got it?�
Daniel laughed aloud, something he had not done since his father died. �Okay, uh, Frank.�
�That�s better. See you later Daniel, and again, welcome to the community.�
Frank waved and shut the door quietly behind him, leaving Daniel alone in the apartment. He sighed and looked around him, and then his gaze swept over the floor. A woman almost murdered here�it was a bit unnerving, and even more so since they never caught the killer--but it was exciting as well.
Daniel loved ghost stories when he was a child, often reading books and exploring vacant buildings to �find� spirits. His mother was disgusted however, and forbid him to indulge in such pursuits. She disliked him even drawing the subjects, and often he would find a few of his �ghost� pictures missing whenever his mother cleaned his room. He grew out of it, but there was always a part of him that was still fascinated by the supernatural. He knew there was more to life than the surface, and that entire worlds existed outside human perceptions. It was doubtful he would ever experience such phenomena; so, if he couldn�t see it, he would paint it.
He sauntered back into the bedroom, looking at the flower dresser in curiosity, before opening the drawers to peek inside. It would make good storage for his paints; the drawers were just the right height, and small enough to fit like colors without getting them mixed up. Other odd-shaped compartments were perfect for his brushes and pencils. Smiling at his good fortune, he closed the drawers and made his way back to the living room, then opened the front door and continued into the hallway.
He passed only one person on his way to the van, but the man said nothing as he climbed into his car and sped off. Daniel wondered if everyone in the building was this reclusive; since the people he�d seen so far (besides Frank) seemed very quiet and kept to themselves. Maybe that was a good thing; Daniel disliked a bunch of screaming and carrying on. He did not mind the calmer ambiance--in fact, he was happy with it.
Grunting, he began carrying his belongings up the three flights of steps, wishing that he had taken Frank�s earlier offer for assistance. He toted the lighter stuff first, or the more important belongings--paints, brushes, art books and his illustration boards. The heavier things came next: Dresser drawers, the dresser, some coffee tables, his bed frame, mattress, and bigger boxes.
After several trips, his arms ached, and his leg muscles twitched in complaint. He dreaded that damn couch, and thought that maybe he should leave it for the next day. But, as he stared at the piece of grotesque furniture squatting in the back of his van, he decided to just get it over with. It was his father�s; one of the few items that he had not donated to Goodwill. It still smelled like his father�s aftershave, and it was a frequent napping spot for Old Ben. Daniel just could not bear to part with it--even if it was a fugly swamp-gas green.
He heaved the monstrous thing from his van, and dragged it into the complex inch by painful inch. He knew he should get some help, but he wanted to prove he could do this on his own. Prove it to whom--he had no idea, but there was no reason to stop being self-sufficient just because something was difficult. He could do this.
However, twenty minutes and bruises all over, he had only made it to the second floor. Daniel felt lightheaded and his arms shook from the exertion. His head pounded in time to his rapid heartbeat. Drooping over the end of the couch, Daniel panted and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Damn, he was thirsty.
�Ahem.�
Daniel peered over the edge of the couch and saw a thin, middle-aged balding man with a tiny elderly woman standing behind, both watching him with different expressions. One was annoyed and impatient; the other was serene, and quite interested in what Daniel was hauling up the steps.
�Carl honey, just look at that huge couch!� the woman said, wringing her hands like a thrilled child. �My, my, it must be awfully heavy. Oh, the poor boy--�
�Quiet mother.� Carl grumbled at the woman behind him, his automatic response telling Daniel that he must say it to her often. When his mother pouted, Carl turned to glower at Daniel. �How long are you going to block the stairwell? I have groceries to bring in.�
Daniel just stared at the man, too astonished to say anything at first. Was the bastard blind or something?
Guess I�m meeting the first asshole of the building, lucky me.
�Uh, sorry sir, but the couch is pretty heavy. And since I�m not wearing blue tights and a red cape, it might take me some time to haul it up the stairs.�
Carl looked even more annoyed, rolling his eyes at his mother and giving a harrowed sigh. �See, this is what moving companies are for. Some people just don�t have a clue do they?�
�Some people don�t have a lot of money to spend on movers. Maybe, if I got a little help I might be able to move it faster.�
Carl shrugged and crossed his arms, leaning against the banister and resumed looking agitated. His mother watched him also, her wool sweater and skirt damp from the rain outside, and her short gray hair sparkled with tiny droplets. However, Carl seemed quite dry--not a wet spot on him. Daniel then looked down and saw a small black umbrella propped against the thin man�s leg. Did he just use the umbrella for himself?
Daniel rose and leaned his back against the railing, propping his elbows along the top.
�What are you doing?�
�What does it look like? I�m taking a break.�
�Taking a break? You�re blocking the fucking stairs. How can you be taking a break?�
Carl�s mother gasped at the word �fuck,� and covered her mouth like a little girl. �Oh Carl! Such a potty mouth!� She said in a stern tone, but then she giggled and muffled the sound through her palms.
Carl gave an exasperated hiss in her direction and shushed her with an impatient gesture. �Be quiet mother, it�s nothing you haven�t heard before. Stop acting like that!�
�But it�s so naughty��
�Quiet!� Carl returned his attention to Daniel, fixing him with an disdainful expression, his beady eyes narrowing. �I�ll call the super if you don�t get going kid; honestly, you should have waited for a better time to start moving your junk. You can�t block the only way to the upper floors, other people live here too you know!�
Daniel yawned and appeared bored. �Well Mr. Carl, I know for a fact Frank is out of the building right now, and I�m still taking my break. You want me to move? Then get up here and help me. Sorry buddy, but you really aren�t that intimidating, and it won�t hurt you to help out a fellow tenant.�
Carl�s glare pierced him, but Daniel refused to budge. On the outside, Daniel tried to appear calm and unconcerned, but his heart was pounding. He rather not get off to a bad start with the residents of South Ashfield Heights, but this guy was an absolute jerk.
As the standoff continued, Carl�s mother giggled at them both, finding the situation amusing for some reason. �Oh now boys, you play nice! Carl, Carl honey, just help the poor dear. It will do you good to get some exercise now and then. Go on now dear. My legs are tired and I really want my afternoon tea.�
�Oh, fine then damn it!� Carl growled with indignation and stalked up the steps. He positioned his wiry body at the other end of the couch, glaring up at Daniel as he stooped and slid his fingers under the bottom.
Daniel reluctantly circled his end, gray eyes on Carl�s brown with grudging acceptance of his help.
�You got it?� he snarled.
�Yes,� Carl hissed back.
�Good, then on three. One, two, three!�
Both men grunted and groaned as they heaved the couch up the stairs and Carl�s mother twittering behind like an excited bird. �Is it truly that heavy boys?� she said, her eyes glittering. �It certainly looks heavy. Why my dear, did you bring such a large couch? It�s not a very pretty color. Such an ugly green. Is it an old couch? It looks old. Oh Carl, Carl honey, watch that last step! Darling, make sure you have a good grip and go slow; I don�t want you to fall now��
�Mother, shut UP!� Carl said with strained anger, the cords of his neck protruding and appeared as if they would snap any moment. Daniel grunted in agreement, as the antics of Carl�s mother had also started to wear on his nerves. Finally, they made it to room 303, and Carl dropped his end of the couch with a heavy thud. He looked at the room number in disgust. �You live here? Wonderful.� he said with sarcasm. �Well, I hope you don�t have anymore furniture to move, because I�m not going to break my back for some smart ass kid.� he stated with finality and wiped his brow. He snatched his mother�s arm and pulled her down the hall, hushing her as she continued to babble about the couch and Daniel.
�He seems like a nice boy�don�t you think so Carl?�
Her voice and Carl�s crude reply faded as they disappeared into room 304. Daniel fought back a groan as he realized who the one side of his neighbors were, and tried not to feel disappointed. Great, a middle-aged curmudgeon, and his witless mother�.just what I need. He just hoped whomever occupied 302 was normal.
Sighing, he wrestled the couch inside the apartment, closed the door, and went back down the hall. He had just reached the stairs when a dark shape barreled past. They slammed into him and knocked his already aching body into the banister.
�What the fuck? What the hell is wrong with you people? Can�t you say excuse me!� Daniel gave the perpetrator an irate snarl, too angry to keep his manners in check. Here we go, asshole number two�
The man who plowed into him slowed in obvious surprise, as if he was amazed Daniel had spoken to him. His head tilted as he came back a few steps, staring at Daniel with bemusement. He was dressed odd, with a dark blue trench coat that hung to his thighs, and wavy brown hair that fell to his chin. There were stains on the coat, but with the yellow light of the hallway, it was hard to determine what they were. The man studied him carefully with eyes the color of washed out jade and they glinted with interest. For some reason, Daniel felt scrutinized and uncomfortable. He backed up a step as the man came forward.
�My�apologies. I�m afraid I didn�t see you there. Are you all right?� His voice was silky, with a rumbled purr that put Daniel on his guard. The man also enunciated his tone as he spoke, making his speech and words seem calculated, purposeful. Daniel stood there for a moment, unsure how to respond; he felt foolish as if he had no right to complain to this stranger in the first place. The man continued his unwavering stare, his eyes scanning over Daniel�s face and body as if to commit every detail to memory. �I asked�are you hurt?�
His tone was calm and controlled, but laced underneath with something else. Eagerness? Excitement? Daniel could not quite put his finger on the emotion, but it creeped him out nonetheless. �Uh, no, no�I�m fine.� He said, trying to think of a way to make the man stop staring at him. �Just moving in today and it�s been a little harder than I expected. I�m just tired I guess, and I probably should have seen you coming--so sorry, okay? No hard feelings? Let�s just forget about it and start over.� Daniel held out his hand and dared to come a little closer. �My name�s Daniel Morgan and I�ll be living in room 303.� The man ignored his hand and tilted his head the other way, his eyes dreamy.
�Ah yes�the Mother Reborn. I remember now��
�Excuse me?�
The man�s eyes snapped to his and Daniel froze. He felt rooted to the floor, unable to move. His head began pounded at the temples and chest tightened for no reason. The chill in the air increased, and Daniel felt it upon his bare arms as all the little hairs stood at attention and goose bumps rose beneath. Unlike with Carl earlier, this new stranger intimidated him, and it made Daniel want to flee to the safety of his room.
�The Mother Reborn,� the man repeated, his tone hard and eyes intense. He looked Daniel up and down and came closer.
Daniel edged away as politely as he could, giving the man a weak smile to maintain his amiable charade. �So uh, what�s your name then?�
The man regarded him and then smiled wide. �Walter Sullivan,� he said, and his grin sharpened.
�Well, uh, Mr. Sullivan�it�s nice to meet you.� Daniel gave a little wave and began his retreat. �I have to get going though--I, I have a lot of stuff to unpack.�
�Indeed,� said Walter, as if he knew damn well Daniel was scared of him. �Perhaps we�ll chat again soon.�
�Yeah sure, I�m sure we will.�
�I�ll look forward to it�Daniel.� Walter said his name slow, as if rolling something sweet over his tongue. His pale eyes widened, and the pallor of his skin appeared feverish as he came forward another step. There was something not normal about this guy. Not normal at all.
�O-kay. Well, um, see you later then�� Daniel gave an anxious smile and retreated to his room. The rest of his stuff could wait; there was no way he was going back down those stairs with that Walter person behind him.
Daniel glanced back as he opened his door and found Walter still standing at the end of the hall, watching him. He felt brave enough (since there was ample distance now between him and Walter) to give the man an irritated glare before shutting the door and locking it. Weirdo.
Upon entering his room, the headache diminished, as did the dizziness and chill. Daniel rubbed his forehead, and then looked at his bed frame, contemplating how long it would take until he could put it back together. Too long, he decided--the couch would have to do.
As he maneuvered the huge piece of furniture, his thoughts drifted to the mysterious Walter Sullivan, and why the man affected him so. He had caught a nasty vibe from the guy; call it intuition or gut instinct, but Daniel knew there was something �off� about him. Something not right.
I wonder how long he�s lived here?
Daniel then mentally kicked himself for not asking what apartment Walter lived in. For all he knew, that creepy bastard could live right next door. Daniel repressed a shudder and tried not to think about it. He flopped on the couch, catching a faint whiff of his father�s scent as he rolled over and stared at the wall. This move was certainly turning out to be more interesting than he thought--however, not in a good way. He already pissed off tenants in room 304 (well, Carl at least), and that Walter Sullivan person would be avoided at all costs. At least Frank was decent; he would have to make a mental note to encourage that friendship. Mr. Sunderland, in many ways, reminded him of his father.
Daniel sighed and closed his eyes, allowing the weariness of the afternoon to overcome him. The sound of the traffic outside faded as sleep crept near, and Daniel gave in with little protest. Walter�s honeyed words still lingered however, making his slumber restless.
�The Mother Reborn�perhaps we'll chat again soon�Daniel.�
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Blood Ties