RfH Ch. 03: Plans Best Laid

Welcome back to Chapter 3 of the "Roommate from Hell" series (RfH). For those of you just joining us, there will be some recap, but if you want to start from the beginning, please check out: "RfH Ch.1: That Thing in the Corner," and "RfH Ch.2: Between Secrets and Semen."

*****

"That's right bitch..." I grunted aggressively as I stood over my laundry basket, fervently stroking my manhood. The soft fabric of my boxers slid across my skin as I used them for a dirty cock rag. The garment was damp from sweating all day at work, and my dick was twitching in anticipation as I grumbled obscenities.

"Uhuh, Just like that you filthy slut." I growled as I glanced up at the moldy patch of roof in the corner of the room. Most people wouldn't give it much thought, but I knew better. On the other side of those walls was a thing. An inexplicable organism inhabiting the living room. Silently glowering from the corner as it seeped its roots and appendages through the walls, those slimy eyes relentlessly observing every room in the apartment, ready to slither forth and carry out its insidious tasks at the command of my homicidal roommate; Melissa.

I would know. I had seen that thing in action. I had felt its festering feelers yank me off my feet. I knew what it was capable of. I had seen what Melissa was capable of. I had seen her commanding it. I was well aware that every one of those oozing ocular orifices peering from its goopy flesh were unwaveringly watching me at all times. But I also knew that she was watching me too.

Melissa; For whatever reason, had been using this unnatural power to keep an eye on me and steal my shorts to use for her sexual pleasures. I closed my eyes and imagined the lusty moans of her using the smell to get herself off. She didn't know, but I'd seen her doing it, and I knew she would be back. Back for new trousers, fresh with man stank. My man stank, and that brings me back to my task at the laundry basket.

"Oh yeah, take it all you dirty whore!" I growled as I spurted burst after burst of salty cum into my grimy underpants. Clenching and straining, I squeezed and pulsed until I was sure I'd emptied every last drop into the filthy rags of my work shorts. Finally releasing my grasp I tossed the soiled boxers into the pile of dirty clothes and spit on it in contempt.

"Choke on it, bitch." I uttered spitefully, as I opened the package of replacement underwear I'd bought specifically for this purpose.

If past behavior was any indication, that sentient growth in the corner would wriggle its veiny tentacles into the room after I went to sleep, and procure the semen-strained sweat shorts for its master's perverted purposes. It was just a matter of time.

In retrospect, I may have made some bad life choices that brought me to this point, but for now I had some nuts to bust; whether out of lust, self hatred, or maybe just for closure I had chosen to remain and see this through to the end, however gruesome it may be.

Normally that entailed just waiting for something terrible to happen, but today I had a plan. A plan I was keen on putting into action, so I quickly showered, shaved, and put on some fresh clothes.

I was almost through buttoning my shirt, when I thought about what I intended to do. I thought about the potential consequences if things went wrong, but also the possible outcome if things went right. I thought about that woman, both luscious and lethal, and it brought some warmth to my skin. I opted not to fasten the last button, and even went so far as to open it one more down to allow my chest hair to peek out just slightly. Satisfied, I took one last glance in the mirror and opened the door to the living room.

The air conditioner droned in the background. Melissa was lounging in her usual place on the sofa, watching an infomercial on walkman cassette players. She no longer walked around the house in her underwear, not since I'd installed that air conditioner. She now wore an old, blue, fluffy, bathrobe instead.

The belt sat limply on her massive hips, and often had to be retightened. The top hung loosely, framing her swaying cleavage as her cumbrous breasts swung unrestrained with every step. The bottom would part frequently, flashing glimpses of her squishy feminine legs.

"What?" She demanded impatiently, taking notice of me just standing there staring.

"Uh, what are you watching?" I stammered out. Definitely not my most charming moment, this had gotten off to a bad start.

"Citizen Kane." She retorted with sarcasm. "How about you, what are you watching?" She added confrontationally.

"Nuthin'." I lied reflexively, trying not to say "rosebud" as one of her nipples peaked out from behind the puffy lining of her bath robe. There was an awkward silence. I waited anxiously to see if she bought it or not. The air conditioner droned in the background.

"Then what do you want?" She bluntly asked.

"Well, I was just wondering if you were interested in watching something with me." I replied, slowly getting back on track. This was all part of the plan as I sauntered over to the TV for effect.

Superficially, I gave the appearance that I was walking over there to offer to change the channel, for she had lost the remote long before I had arrived. But I had an ulterior motive as I casually placed my hand on the television set next to one of the glistening tentacles draped across the top.

"And why would I want to watch anything you find interesting?" She inquired with a sneer.

"I dunno," I began, as I shifted my hand off the TV for a shrug. But instead of just lifting my arm into the gesture, I made sure to make an extra show of sliding it off the edge, and dragging one of the tendrils with it.

I'd touched the thing once before with a knife tied to the end of the pole. And while I certainly would have been more comfortable with that, this required a more subtle approach. Besides, it had refrained from attacking me last time until I had unexpectedly stepped on it, so a soft nudge wouldn't provoke it, right?

For good measure, I made sure to remain gentle in my docile pushes. Just as I'd planned, the creature did not react, and its root was dragged off the edge to hang perfectly in front of the screen.

"I guess we could just channel surf until we see something that falls into our common interests." I added smugly. She could ask me to move it, but that would involve her acknowledging that thing's existence, and therefore held accountable to her knowledge of it. She would likewise reveal her knowledge of its presence if she got up to move it before I left, and I had no intention of leaving any time soon. She craned her neck helplessly, trying to peer around the slimy appendage now blocking part of her view.

This was my plan. She was trapped in an unwinnable situation. She could give away her secret, or tolerate the view of her precious programs being obscured. Either way, I won. I grinned triumphantly as I watched her struggle.

"Common interests? What could you possibly know about my interests?" She challenged.

"More than you think!" I shouted a little louder and less confidently than I meant to.

"And what's that supposed to mean?!" She demanded. The plan was technically working, but things weren't progressing as I had imagined they would. Somehow I imagined her giving the confession, not me. Was I really ready to come clean about what I knew? Would doing so really result in me getting laid? Or would it just result in my prompt and violent murder? Now that I thought about it, that knife she had used to slit a man's throat that night was still hidden under the couch, in arm's reach, ready to lash out at moment's notice.

I was having some serious second thoughts about this, but I'll never know if I would have gone through with it because just then the phone rang. We stood there without speaking as the ringer repeated a few times before she broke the silence.

"Well?" She inquired expectantly.

"Fine!" I grumbled in exasperation, she snickered dismissively. Already fed up, I stomped into the kitchen and picked up the phone with an angry "What?!"

"Hello David, it's me." I recognized their voice immediately.

"Hello Dad." I whispered apologetically. We hadn't talked much lately. Not since before the accident.

"How have you been son?" He asked politely.

"Fine." I lied. "Been keeping busy at work." I added a little more honestly.

"That's good. Well I happened to be passing through town tonight, and I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite to eat and catch up." He offered. I glanced at Melissa as I took a moment to reconsider my plans tonight. She suddenly turned away the moment I looked back, pretending to be extremely interested in the four different play options of the walkmans in her infomercial.

"Sure." I decided easily.

"Ok, how about that Italian place two blocks down from your place?" He suggested.

"Sure. I'll be right there." I murmured absently as I hung up the phone.

"Who was that? You're boss reeling your leash back in for more overtime?" She teased.

She was right about how much overtime I'd been doing lately, and normally her comment would have been hurtful. But today it didn't matter. Not anymore.

"It's nothing. I'll be back." I muttered and walked out the door before she could say anything else.

I rode the bus down three blocks, and walked back half a block to get to the restaurant. It was a moderate, inconspicuous place clearly selected for its proximity to my apartment, and neutral cuisine. I found my father waiting for me inside.

He greeted me as I sat down, and we exchanged small talk while nibbling on bread and making our orders.

My father and I were simple men, with simple jobs, and simple tastes. Being the straightforward individuals we were, we both ordered a plate of spaghetti like we usually did.

"So you're still doing the entry level position at the steel mill?" He asked.

"Yeah dad." I told him.

"You know, there's an opening at the mill in Ponderosa Lake, if you wanted to come back." He offered.

"No thanks dad."

"Well how have your friends Mike and Steve been? Been spending any time with them?"

"No dad. They haven't been in town lately."

"Well I'm sure you've been busy meeting new people around here, and spending time with them."

"Not really. I haven't met anyone dad." I admitted.

"Well what have you been doing?" He questioned. I briefly thought of Melissa, that thing in the corner, and my cowardly reactions to it.

"Just work I guess." I answered defensively.

"Well what about hiking? You used to love hiking."

"Used to." I told him firmly. "You know I haven't been hiking since the accident." It was clear what he was trying to get at, so I decided to confront him on the matter.

"Well you shouldn't let that hold you back, you weren't injured after all."

"I am aware. I left that flaming wreck uninjured, while she..." I began, but the words choked in my throat.

"You can't let this keep you down for the rest of your life David, you've got to get out, you've got to move on." I ground my teeth as he lectured me, trying to keep my mouth shut. "Wallowing in self pity like this isn't going to get you anywhere, accidents happen, you can't keep beating yourself up about it. It's not your fault." He continued.

"It isn't? Then how come I let the car get into a head on collision? How did the ruptured gas tank get ignited? How come I was the only one thrown from the vehicle into safety?" I shouted as I stood up suddenly, knocking over the chair I had been sitting on with a clamorous clatter. The waiter awkwardly tried to set our spaghetti onto the table so he could get out of there.

"You can't blame yourself for that, you were knocked unconscious!" He tried.

"No!" I shrieked as I pounded my fist down on the table for emphasis, unintentionally launching the spaghetti onto the floor with a mushy crash that splattered sauce onto the people sitting at the tables around us. The whole restaurant had its eyes on us, but I wasn't done yet.

"She was burning for hours before I came to! Why didn't her screams wake me? Why didn't I save her dad? I was right there!" I roared angrily, eyes brimming with tears. "Forget it. You wouldn't understand." I snarled, trying not to sob in public as I turned to leave.

"David listen to me, you did not kill Cindy!" My dad got up and called after me, tears in his eyes too.

"You don't know that." I whispered as I ran out the door.

It was a long walk back home. Plenty of time to calm down. Plenty of time to think.

I thought of my father, I may have been a little harsh with him. I thought of that thing in the corner. Had it really been preventing me from getting out of the house, or was I just using it as an excuse? I thought about Cindy. I had no excuses there.

I moped my way home, dragged myself up the stairs, and lumbered in through the door. My stomach was vocally resenting the fact that I'd left without any of that spaghetti, but I was in no mood to eat. I shuffled passed the couch to my room, and was prepared for a long sleep when I heard Melissa come out of her room.

"David." She addressed me. I had my hand on the door, my bed was right there on the other side. I strongly considered pretending I hadn't heard her. I was not in the mood for her shit.

"What?" I responded in irritation, expecting her to ask me about my night.

"I'm having company next Friday. I have noticed that you have that day off." She stated. Her actually paying attention to my work schedule was the closest thing to consideration that she'd shown me since I got here.

"I know, I know. You want me to stay in my room and keep quiet." I muttered dismissively.

"No." She interjected. She took a moment to consider her words carefully before continuing. "You're going to be there too. You've been invited."