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8: Humble Abode (Part 2)

Chapter Eight: Humble Abode (Part Two)

Marceline was looking through Marshall's musical albums when he came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. She looked at him disconcertingly as he casually walked around shirtless, not feeling sorry at all. He caught her staring at him and smirked cheekily.

"Like what you see?"

She snorted then turned her attention back to the albums. "You wish, Lee."

"So now we're on a last-name basis huh, Abadeer?" Marshall turned on his television and sat on the sofa with a remote control in hand.

Marceline gave him a lopsided smile and set the albums down. She wandered over to the sofa and sat on one end of it, away from its owner, crossing her legs.

"What's on the tube?" she asked.

"Nothin' interesting." he replied boredly.

Marshall changed the channel a few times before settling on a news program. It appeared that the storm was going to last until tomorrow. The continuous sound of rain pelting the roof and thunder rumbling seemed to confirm the weather forecast.

"Gimme that." she snatched the remote control from him and started going through the channels until stopping at one where a horror movie was playing. It featured an unknown cloaked man in the wheat fields.

That reminded her.

"Hey, why did you bring me to the woods in the first place?" Marceline asked.

Marshall took a glimpse at her and answered, "I was gonna bring you someplace cool, but you just had to go crazy on me, did you?"

"It wasn't my fault!"

"Oh, that's right," he rolled his eyes. "Blame your wild imagination."

"I wasn't imagining things! There was really a dark figure back there!"

Marshall scoffed and retrieved the remote control from her hand. "Yeah sure, sweetheart."

"Ugh, if you don't wanna believe me, then fine!" Marceline stood up abruptly. "I'm outta here."

"Hey, come on. Where you goin'?" he asked over his shoulder.

"The kitchen!" she said loudly while descending the ladder. "I'm freakin' hungry!"

Marshall chuckled lightly and resumed watching the movie.

Marceline turned the doorknob and stepped into the kitchen, making a beeline toward the refrigerator. The tiled floor was cool under her feet and when she pulled open the fridge door, she was astonished by the contents. Everything inside was red - cherries, apples, ketchup, etcetera. The only food items that weren't red were the eggs.

She scanned the kitchen. There's a blender and stove here, but what could she cook? Left with no other choice, she pulled out a couple of red fruits from the fridge, cut them up with a sharp kitchen knife on a counter and made herself a fruit salad.

Marceline carried her bowl of fruits out to the living room and the second she rested her butt on the couch, she regretted it. The couch was awfully uncomfortable to the point where she thought she had just sat on stone.

She had no desire to go upstairs, especially when Marshall's going to make fun of her "imagination" further, so she just settled on a tall red stool and ate on a raised slab connected to an opening of the kitchen.

Marceline gasped when she felt a touch on her shoulder and turned around to find no one there. She could feel tension hanging in the air, and some sort of presence, but she couldn't tell what. Her heart started beating fast. She felt a touch again, but quickly carried on eating.

When she had finished her meal, she hurriedly cleaned up and in that process she felt something whipped at her hair but still, there's nothing. Not even wind. There's no way she could be imagining things. She hastily climbed upstairs to get away from the paranormality of the first floor.

"Lee, is your house haunted or somethin'?" she asked but was alarmed when Marshall was nowhere to be seen.

Marceline pushed herself up to stand on the floor and took a step forward in the room. She peeked at the bathroom but it was unoccupied. "Lee! Where the heck are you?" she yelled into space, her voice crackling with impatience but got no reply. "For once, stop messin' around with me, you freak!"

Suddenly, she felt a cool breath against her ear. "Boo."

She gasped but swiftly whirled around and socked him in the face.

"Ow, my cheek meat!" Marshall groaned, holding a hand to his cheek. "What was that for?"

"You deserve it!" Marceline proclaimed.

"You're gonna regret that, Abadeer." he warned.

"Oh, really? Well, what if I just punch you again right now, you know?" she blurted out but obviously, he didn't catch on what she had said.

"What?"

Marceline punched Marshall again, making him let out a guttural gasp of pain. She laughed in his face but unanticipated to her, his fist crashed against her jaw, knocking her backwards.

"Unexpected!" he exclaimed.

She held her hand to her face, eyes wide in shock at the sudden impact. "You asshole!"

Marceline charged and jumped towards Marshall, knocking him over and resulted in him lying on his back with her sitting on top of his toned chest, pinning him in a body scissors. She pounded his head repetitively until he grasped both her hands tightly and sat up, making her sit on his lap.

"You really are somethin' else, huh?" he fleered, bringing his face closer to hers.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she questioned aggressively, her green eyes shone with fury.

"Oh, nothing." he purely stated before pushing her off him and going downstairs.

Marceline sat on the floor dumbfounded. She stood up and paced back and forth, trying to gather her thoughts. She plopped down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, or roof, to be exact. She sensed that Marshall was playing mind games with her, but for what? What exactly had he hoped to achieve from her? She was still pondering about all of this in her head and sorting out the possibilities.

He hadn't returned yet. The minutes ticked by and soon her eyes started to droop sleepily. It wasn't long until darkness shrouded her mind and she fell into a state of unconsciousness.