The Obsessives

It was a beautiful night. It would be a shame to die on such a night. Or possibly a blessing to have such beauty as the last thing to see. Seb didn't care. He wasn't responsible for the old man's death anyway. He killed himself. At least, that's what he's trying to tell himself.

Seb had just emerged from the Laundromat. Washing folded and placed in equally tall piles in his shopping trolley. Perfect. Just how Seb likes it. The constant rattling of the tiny shopping cart wheels spinning against the concrete. Seb was right on time. His schedule had been planned down to the very second. He double-checked his watch. 6 O'clock. Yes. Definitely on time. As he walked briskly down the road, his trolley hit an uneven curb and capsized, spilling its pristine contents all over the grubby sidewalk.

Seb stared at it. His order so easily destroyed and replaced with chaos. Seb started hyperventilating. His hard work, his perfect hard work. Ruined.

Laughter sounded from behind him.

Whipping around, Seb came face to face with a man in a dishevelled suit and worn tie with dark glasses and a cane.

"Have you no respect?" Seb cried.

"I'm sorry, but I find you people very amusing," said the old man.

"You people?" said Seb.

"Obsessive compulsive nutshells. You people," said the old man, waving his cane in Seb's direction. Seb glowed bright red and began trying to salvage as much of the cleaner clothing as he could find. A gust of wind scattered the clothing all across the street. Seb watched helplessly as his favourite shirt finally came to rest in the gutter on the other side of the road. The wind picked up and Seb bent down and scurried around, chasing his clothing like disobedient dogs. The old man just laughed.

"Are you determined to make my day miserable? A gentleman would help me," Seb said.

"What makes you think I can?" said the old man, pointing at his glasses.

"Wait, you're blind?" Seb asked.

"No. I'm right as rain," said the old man, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "But you're right, I can help you, I'll need a favour in return, though." He began tottering over to the cart and pushing it upright with the tip of his cane and skilfully flicking them into the cart.

"How are you doing that?" asked Serb, picking up clothes beside the man, but folding them up as he put them in the cart.

"Never mind that, we're done," said the old man as he flicked the last item of clothing into the cart, "and now you owe me a favour."

"I owe you a favour? What might that favour be?" Seb asked.

The old man just started walking down the road, Seb watched him go. The old man stopped and turned around briskly. "Well? Are you coming?"

Seb grabbed the cart and pushed it in front of him, jogging to catch up to the old man.

"Wow, you're either really confident or you know this road really well," said Seb

"I've never been here before," said the old man.

Seb looked around. Dusk was falling and Serb had no idea where he was. The neighbourhood was pretty dodge looking and by the buildings in the distance behind him, they were heading further out of town. He had had enough.

"Mr, I am very grateful for you helping me, but I need to go home now," said Seb.

The old man whipped around and, despite his lack of vision, stared straight into Seb's eyes. "We had a deal," he growled.

Seb swallowed, "Like I said before, I am very gra-"

"We had a DEAL!" the old man yelled. He grabbed Seb's arm and pushed him into the front yard of a house and down into a bush. Seb cried out in pain as thorns and branches dug into his soft flesh.

The old man turned around and started feeling under the porch of the house for something. Seb took his chance and ran up the steps and into the house, slamming and locking the door behind him. Seb ran up the hallway and into a room, wildly looking around for another exit, or something to ward off the old man. He pulled a sheet off a pile of stuff in the corner of the room and a fox stared up at him. Seb screamed and leapt back. The fox's head was mounted on a taxidermist's mount. Seb looked around him. The walls were covered with heads. Bear, badgers, deer, jaguars and more. As Seb looked around he noticed one was missing a head.

"I see you've found my hobby. Beautiful, aren't they?" said the old man, fondly stroking the nose of the stag.

"No, this is just creepy. Let me out and I won't call the police," said Seb, struggling to remain steady on his feet.

"Oh, you won't be calling the police anyway. We had a deal, and it's time for you to carry out your half of it," said the old man, picking up a noose. "I'll make it quick!"

Seb backed away, tripping over the sheet.

The old man paced towards him.

Seb grabbed the fox head and hurled it at the old man. The old man crumpled to the ground and his glasses came flying off revealing two bloodshot eyes and a bleeding nose. Two working, bloodshot eyes.

"You liar!" yelled Seb and he sprinted out of the house, the old man hot on his feet. Seb ran to his cart and tried to hurry away but the old man stood in front of him and grinned.

"Nowhere to go," said the old man.

Seb pushed the cart with all his might and it slammed into the old man, throwing him onto the pathway. Seb retrieved the cart and pushed it across the road just before a stream of traffic came down the road.

Between the cars whizzing by, Seb watched the old man rise to his feet and limp onto the road. Dazed, he jaywalked forward.

Right into the path of an eighteen wheeler.

Seb looked on in horror. The left. Right. No-one there. Seb pushed his cart forward, into the night.