Seven and Deadly

Moving In

Things were looking up for Kiku. He had a decent job and was moving into a nice apartment building. He didn't have many friends back home, so maybe this was a new beginning in that sense.

He stepped into the lobby of the building. A bit nervous, he pressed the "up" button on the elevator. It took a few minutes of awkward standing around for the doors to finally open. The movers didn't seem to mind.

The shaft was a bit cramped with all the boxes and people, but elevator rides usually aren't long to begin with anyways.

You might have noticed that Kiku appears to be quite the optimist. The idea of seizing one's problems and looking on the bright side isn't one many can comprehend, and yet he does it anyways.

Kiku doesn't believe in ghosts, magic, or aliens. It's all kind of bullshit to him. Whether this is a good thing or not has eternally been up for grabs.

The display at the top of the wall stopped at 13 and let out a little ding. Wait, weren't apartments supposed to skip that floor? Something about bad luck... Eh. Who cares. It's just a schtick the Christians made up to discourage the Norse people's belief in Freyja.

They stepped out and into the hallway and walked down the aisle, reaching the fourth door on the eastern wall.

It took about five minutes for every box to be set into the room. A terribly short five minutes, how nice. Kiku at long last experienced time to himself, which he appreciated. Living with noisy roommates wasn't very fun.

He pulled out his sheets and covers, draping them over the bed that had taken a whole other elevator to bring up. The rest of his furniture would come tomorrow morning, but for now, his new home was fairly empty.

It was late. Kiku plugged in his phone which had gotten dangerously low. His gaze drifted towards the huge box with all his clothes. He desperately didn't want to rummage through all of that for just his pajamas... The procrastinator in him won over, and he fell asleep right there in his sweater and sweatpants. Nice going, that'll smell SO great tomorrow.

His dream was bizarre. Seven figures stood, regarding him with dull eyes. Most of them were white men with blonde hair, slightly varying in color. In addition stood a Mediterranean and an Asian. Why their races mattered? They didn't. It was purely one of the only things he could observe. All of them had wildly different builds and personalities- the latter he could merely tell by their stance. They didn't move for what felt like hours.

Finally, at the end of the night, one with green eyes (which had now gone vivid) and bushy eyebrows looked at Kiku with annoyance or possibly anger. He crossed his arms and said in the most disgusted tone, "Now who the fuck is this twat?!"

***

Kiku woke with a start. He was sweating more than usual. What was that? Where did he see those people before? His brain can't just make up faces... Right?

The young man sighed at his clothes as he walked past them, pulling a mug from the box labeled DISHES. He reached out into another box and grabbed a teabag. Yes. Tea.

He plopped the bag in the cup and stepped over to the sink, which conveniently had a boiling water tab. Hell yes. Tea.

As he waited for the water to cool a bit, Kiku nabbed his earbuds and cell phone from the wall by his bed. A quick swipe or two and good music was already ringing in his ears. He stepped back to his drink, which had turned a brownish golden tone. Hell fucking yes. Tea.

He sipped it lightly, so he didn't burn his tongue. He was leaning against the counter. How long had it been since he had relaxed like this? A day or two, but it felt like forever. Anyways:

Hell.

Fucking.

Yes.

Tea.

The music was a little loud, but Kiku didn't care. It was a lovely song.

Suddenly, a voice rang out in his head. A British accent was prominent, much like the one from last night... The doorbell rang, idiot! Get your shit together and answer it! Don't you have chairs coming?! What? He jerked his head. What? What the fuck? He set his drink down and pulled out the left earbud. The doorbell rang twice. What in the fuck just happened.

Kiku crossed the reasonable distance to the front of his apartment and unlocked the door swiftly. Sure enough, the furniture was here. Hooooly fuck.

A quick conversation and about an hour later, his chairs and tables and couch (singular!) had been put in place. I almost forgot about the voice, he thought to himself as he cleaned his now empty cup of tea.

I sure hope you didn't! It replied angrily. I hate it when people do that.

Hold on, what the fuck?