He walked slowly but purposefully down the third floor hall towards 314, savoring every moment of anticipation. Mickey's anger hadn't subsided in the slightest; it was only building.
About halfway there he came across a pair of panties laying smack damn in the center of the hall, splayed out for the world to see. He glanced about, then bent down and picked them up. Dark purple and freshly cleaned. The cotton felt soft between his fingers. Likely some tenant had lost them from her laundry basket on the way back to her apartment.
Great Lucine's policy clearly called for him to go door to door asking tenants if any missing clothing belonged to them. She said it had to be done; that confronted with the image of the security guard carrying their Victoria's Secrets to each and every one of their neighbors, the tenants would learn to check their damn clothes and pick up after themselves. Mickey was fairly certain the policy was actually just one more way for her to humiliate her failure of a nephew.
Even so, on other nights he might have looked forward to this distraction. As the tenants already hated him, he found moments like this pleasurable – especially that final moment when you found the owner. Invariably she – or he – said the missing item wasn't theirs, but their eyes never lied. Mickey enjoyed the discomfort that the confrontation always brought to the owner (and to all of the tenants). It served as a small comeuppance for their vacant glances and empty greetings.
Tonight, however, this thought brought him little pleasure. Tonight he leaned towards the idea that this was just one more embarrassment, one more instance of the joke being on poor old Vartabetian. Tonight, he thought, I'd rather just cram these cotton panties down aunt Lucine's rotten throat and watch her choke. Cram them down so far and so hard it smashes her dentures and she gags on the shards.
Mickey knew his dark mood had nothing to do with the panties from the hall, nor with the tenants he was about to pay an unexpected visit, but he didn't give a rat's ass. His thoughts grew darker with each step, and knowing that soon there would finally be release, all damns burst and the floodgates down – oh soon, so soon, praise the Lord or the Devil or anyone above or below if such a thing exists – he found himself, for maybe the first time in his life, completely elated.
YOU ARE READING
The Violation in 314 ✔️
HorrorMickey Vartabetian works as the night security guard at The Villa apartments. Estranged from the tenants, he has come to view himself as less than human - but all of that must come into question when he meets something even darker than himself.
