I live in an apartment complex that sits in a outer part of town. The nearest market is half an hour away, but the price of my home is worth it.
I live with my roommate Caleb and together we pay about 550$. It’s a fairly nice place with two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen and dining space, and a living room. The appliances are fairly nice and it feels like I’m getting much more than I’m paying for. But the one thing freaky about this place is the neighbors.
For background, Caleb has a french bulldog named King that lives with us. Or well, he had one. One evening when we were off to the store for some generic groceries, there was a break in. Nothing was broken except for the window used to enter the house, and nothing was taken except for King. We put up posters, asked neighbors, but we saw no sign of him. It was devastating for the both of us as we loved this dog tremendously.
A week or so later there was a smell coming from the office building of our apartments. It wasn’t a bad smell, it smelled like the Texas Barbeque I grew up with. I went to investigate and saw a bunch of my neighbors gathered around some picnic tables and a grill. They were all wearing the same generic black robe draped around their shoulders. There was about 20-30 people gathered, wearing and eating the same thing. Maybe this was some neighborhood tradition I didn’t get the memo of?
One of my older neighbors, Kasey, sat me down and handed me a plate. She offered me a robe, but I objected. I took a bite of the meat on the plate and got a flashback of home. It tasted marvelous, I had never had such good barbeque. I asked the manager of the cookout about it, but he didn’t reveal his secrets. Whatever mysterious family recipe this was, I’d definitely eat it again.
As Caleb arrived from work, he noticed the cookout and joined us. He didn’t eat any of the food, nor did he take a robe. He quickly grabbed me without reason and took me home. He lectured me on how this was some creepy cult meeting and I shouldn’t be participating. After reviewing the thoughts in my head, I completely agreed. But that was just a weird one off thing my neighbors did, right? You’d be mistaken.
The apartment above me belongs to an old guy from England. His accent stuck out like a sore thumb, but he was the most popular person among the neighborhood. He would hold large get togethers at his house every other Sunday. They aren’t loud, more so the opposite. I don’t hear a sound from him, not even his giant footsteps echoing through the floor.l Except occasionally I hear this loud buzzing. It goes on for about an hour but not every time he has one of his little house parties.
But, about a month or so ago, I started noticing these strange markings in everyone’s right forearm. Whether it was just a friendly wave, a handshake, or high five, all my neighbors had one of these markings.
Also, the other night while I was in bed, I heard this scratching. Caleb was asleep and wild animals didn’t lurk around here often. I didn’t get up as I was too lazy, but it kept on for 15 minutes or so. The next morning I noticed the symbol that was on everyone’s wrist was carved into my door. I was terrified.
As I opened the door to check though, two fliers slipped from the crack of my door. A missing dog flier and a cookout invitation.