Your Oratory

Thick black oil dripped steadily onto the glass dining table

photo credit: Hello, I am Bruce

.  What was this gross stuff and where was it coming from?  I looked up to the ceiling and I saw a small hole and a wet stain around it.  I didn’t know who lived over my apartment, but I figured that I was going to have to go up there and find out.

I took the stairs two at a time and I banged at the place over mine.  I banged again and then I yelled “Hey is there anybody in there?  It’s urgent. There’s stuff dripping from your place through my ceiling and it’s making a huge mess.”  I kept banging and yelling.

I looked down and I could see oil coming under the door.

A man came out of the next door apartment.  “That guy’s never home.  He’s a long distance trucker, and he’s weird.  I think he’s been gone for about a week.”

She was lying on a glass dining table

photo credit: santian

and gradually regaining consciousness. A voice came close. “I know you. I’ve been watching you for a long time.”

“Who are you?”

The woman approached close to her head and said, “This is where I do my dissections.” She screamed when the woman moved alongside her. It wasn’t a woman. It was the man who had spoken to her on the street. He had a weird, soft creepy voice.

“Can you untie me?”

“I don’t want you to be comfortable,” he whispered. “I will begin my experiments soon and I need to have your body in a state of extreme tension. I have watched you for so long and now I have you here with me. I am very happy.”

“Please let me go and I can pay you a lot of money.”

“Money means nothing to me. It is my scientific work that is everything.  Sorry, dear.”