The Rise And Fall Of Spamton G. Spamton

Chapter 2

Spamton looks down at his hand, a tiny skeleton key nestled in his palm. The other Addisons had chipped in a little to help him get an apartment to start out with. He had the first month or so to get situated before he actually had to make a payment for himself. He didn't plan on staying here for long, of course. He was going to make it big. He had to; this little apartment wouldn't do for someone like him.

He took a deep breath as he walked up to the door, wondering what the inside looked like. He could imagine the interior already, or what he hoped it was; a marvelous apartment with a large bedroom, a giant kitchen with a long table for all the guests he would have over. Perhaps an office for himself and where he would take his calls. He grinned at the thought, putting out his first ad. I can hardly wait to get started! He giggles to himself, sliding the key into the lock; which was conveniently eye level for him. He turned the key and opened the door eagerly- only to be met with darkness. A streak of blue light from outside stretched into the apartment; his own silhouette cutting into the beam.

Spamton swallowed, a cold pit forming in his stomach. Anything could be in that inky black abyss; perhaps a being of the night that wished to tear into him, driven to madness by the blackness they dwelled in. He shivered, the cold sensation slithering up to his chest. He carefully took a step inside, glancing at the wall in search of a light switch. He saw it above his head, frowning as he reached up toward it; his fingertips just barely touching the plate. He grumbled under his breath, cursing as he turned away from the void of the apartment in an attempt to reach the switch.

The moment he looked away from the shadows, a fleeting spike of adrenaline suddenly raced through him. He gasped in fear, desperately jumping to flick up the switch. The heavy switch didn't budge as he hit it the first time; despair making his mouth run dry. He felt like something was watching him in this gloom, predatory eyes piercing into him. He leaped with all his strength, flicking the switch with a sharp metallic click. He whirled around as the lights flickered on, revealing not a monster, but rather a barren apartment.

Spamton let out a sigh of relief, grasping at his throat as he swallowed the nervous lump that had formed there. He was alright now, but he made a mental note to put a step stool near the switch for next time. Coming out of the fearful daze, he took a better look at his new home. The walls were eggshell white, the carpet a boring beige, and the furniture was all black, an odd contrast with the rest of the apartment. He scoffs, unsure why he thought he'd be getting much with his first place. It was given to him out of generosity, after all.

"Shame on me for expecting so much..." He muttered under his breath, walking to the kitchen and glancing around. Everything seemed clean, no grime or grease to be found. It was a meager kitchen, small even for an apartment, and yet ironically it was much too large for him. He glanced at the fridge, frowning as he saw how giant it was in comparison with him. "Everything might be bigger than me, but at least I'll pay less for everything." He reminded himself to keep a positive mindset, opening the fridge to take a peek inside. Empty. He sighed, thankful that he could feel a rush of cold air washing over his legs.

"Working fridge." He grinned, his gaze moving further upward to peer at the freezer. "Unreachable freezer... Great. At least I won't get chubby, can't buy ice cream. More money for other things." He murmured, trying to think positive. He shut the door of the fridge, glancing over at a step ladder that had been placed in front of the sink. A yellow sticky note had been placed on it, catching his eye. He tilted his head curiously, walking over and peeling the note away. Cursive handwriting moved across the page like waves on a calm sea.

*Some things might be a little too tall for you to reach, so we got you this! — Lyle & Rose*

Spamton grinned at the note, admiring the way both of them had signed their name. Rose's name was written with a pink highlighter, while Lyle had signed with a pen. Both of them had a style all their own, distinguishable, unique. He suddenly realized that he would have to do the same; make a brand all his own, with a style that could be mistaken for no one else. He let out a soft laugh as he tucked the sticky note into the inner pocket of his jacket, turning away from the step stool and ambling back to the living room. He glanced at the couch and arm chair, which were facing a small box Tv. He ignored this for now, walking toward the door he assumed was to his room.