With Rhyme or Reason

Today, of all days was the most agonising that I have lived on earth. Firstly my wife confirmed my suspicions by admitting that she has a lover, and then proceeded to demand that I move out immediately. She was completely cold when I packed my things and walked out the door. Not even so much as a goodbye Pete. Bitch!

The real estate agent had said that I was lucky to find a house available at such short notice, well it isn't exactly my house because I share it with four people. And let me tell you they aren't what you would call mainstream types. The house itself is quite strange compared with the average share house. A central corridor runs down the middle of the place and there are rooms situated on both sides, while the kitchen and living room are communal. The idea is that we can talk with our house mates at meal times. However, my house mates, well, to be quite frank, they aren't normal.

The first one I became acquainted with was Monty, now he was a scary sight. Six foot six, a long bushy moustache with matching sideburns and a huge beer gut that his sweat stained blue singlet appears as if it will give way when he laughs. And laugh he did, when I had explained to them all why I had left my wife, and then he roused laughter from everyone else with his words 'Peter Peter pumpkin eater, had a wife and couldn't keep her...satisfied.' That's not all either, because when I had first walked in I heard an argument going on between Monty and one of the others over dirty washing. At the time I thought this was relatively normal, but later I was told that the washing had been dirtied with splatters of cows blood, the substance Monty uses in some of his art work. Apparently Monty works at the abattoir, so he has a ready supply of the stuff. I don't know how the others feel, but I think this guy is some kind of freak. Then there is Georgie, and I suppose you could say we didn't hit it off too well either, but then I didn't like the look of her in the first place. She has long black hair and wears loose dresses that drag along the ground when she walks. The others say she is a witch, well she sure as hell looks like one. She kept staring at me and asking me lots of questions, but I managed to avoid telling them what I did for a living. Annie, who also lives here, well she is nothing like the rest of them, she is beautiful. Soft brunette hair, dark brown eyes and from what I have seen a great personality, not to mention a great body. She told me she was a real internet junkie. Oh, there is one other guy who lives in this house, apparently his name is Brad, but he never comes out of his room and noone has spoken more than a few words to him. Anyway, at least I won't be bored here. I hate them all, except the beautiful Annie.

* * * * * *

I decided to consult my Witches Tarot because Peter wasn't exactly who I wanted as a new housemate. The moment he first walked in I knew he wouldn't fit in here, wearing his cheap deck shoes, slacks and polo shirts straight from the eighties. I had studied him closely and noticed that his eyes had a certain glint to them, a glint I didn't like. How does that saying go, 'some think evil, some look evil and some are evil.' Which one is he I wonder? Anyway, the tarot revealed that he wouldn't be around here too long, maybe he'll go back to his wife.

* * * * * *

That Peter is a real arrogant bastard, who knows nothing about computers, let alone the Internet. He'd only been here a few days when he just barged into my room. I was sitting at my computer and he just appeared.
"What do you think you're doing in here?" I demanded. "Get out!"
He mumbled something about being in the wrong room and then asked me what I was doing. I knew he hadn't mistaken my room for his, but I went along with it and explained that I was chatting to my net friends. Then suddenly he became all knowing about the net, telling me what commands to use and how to do various things. Somehow I found myself telling him that I use my real name as my nickname and then I just lost it and demanded he leave. He looked hurt, but he was out my door before I could say another thing. It took me a long time to get my concentration back, but once I did I couldn't stop, it looked as though it was going to be another late night on the Internet. Something kept disturbing me though, noises were coming from Brad's room, a continual mumble as though he was talking to himself and then a second voice. As for Peter on the other side, well, he didn't make a sound and as usual I found myself still computer bound at 2.00am.

* * * * * *

Georgie had been outside observing the stars when she noticed Brad at the window of his bedroom. This was the first time that Georgie had taken a proper look at him. He was very frail and had a yellowy gaunt face and under the fluorescent light in his room he appeared to be rather ghoulish. Georgie twisted her pentacle ring slowly, although she was usually an easy going person for some reason Brad made her feel uncomfortable. She had the distinct sensation that he was watching her, so she went back inside. In her room she too heard noises coming from Brad's room next door and putting her ear to their common wall she realized that he was just mumbling loudly to himself. Her mind returned to the way he had been watching her, but she convinced herself that she had been imagining things, lit some incense and her inner calm began to return.

* * * * * *

I awoke to the sound of delivery trucks for the third week in a row and wondered why I had ever moved into this bloody house. My nostrils were filled with a salty but nauseating smell. I walked down the hallway and to my surprise all the doors were open except for Brad's. I followed the smell to see what it was. It was the most disgusting sight of my life. Monty was working on his next masterpiece but not with the usual cow's blood, instead he was working with a dead cat that he had found on the edge of the road.
"How's it going Pete, you look like hell!"
"I look like hell, have you taken a look at your art work lately? Your bloody painting stinks, that's what woke me up!"
"Well if you don't like it, you know where to go, because everyone else puts up with it, now if you don't mind I think I will get back to my STINKY piece."
One could say I haven't made a good impression on my housemates, but they could also say that I don't give a shit. I came here because it was the only place I could find in such a short space of time. I would leave, but the sight of Annie gives me a reason to stay.

* * * * * *

"What do you think of that Peter guy?" Annie had asked Georgie a few days later, whilst stirring her coffee with a dirty spoon.
"Ah.... I'm undecided, but there is something about him I don't like. He sure has the hots for you though Annie," Georgie said smiling.
"How do you know that?"
"I saw it in his eyes, and the first day he met you he was drooling," she chuckled.
Georgie had a point, Peter did tend to leer whenever they crossed paths in the hall. Annie hoped Georgie was wrong, but then Georgie always seemed to have a way of knowing what was really going on.
"Well, either way, it doesn't matter, because he's not my type," Annie said firmly.

* * * * * *

One night while Annie was on the internet, talking with her friends, she received a strange message from a person she had never come across before. His nickname was Drab, what a pathetic nickname Annie thought to herself. The message was crude but nothing that Annie hadn't experience before. Annie ignored it because she had always seen herself as quite a sexy cyber chick and had received messages of this type all the time. After about ten minutes had passed another message came and then another and another, all from the same person, Drab. An hour or so later she was forced to turn off her computer, which really fucked Annie off. She resented being bullied off her computer, especially when everyone was out, except for Brad of course, for he was always in.

After a few months, Peter was seen less and less and his friendship with the others in the house was rapidly dwindling. Nobody was sure is he had a job, or if he was just spending all of his time in his room. Annie was still receiving messages from Drab which was really which was really beginning to disturb her. A few days later to Annie's surprise she passed Peter in the hall and he looked quite cheerful. "Hey Annie, how are you?" Still receiving those absurd messages?" Peter inquired politely.
"Sure am, that person really must have no life, I'd love to catch the prick so that I could get him cut off his Internet server."
"Well you've got to give him ten out of ten for persistence."
"Persistence or desperation?" Annie replied and headed off to the kitchen to make some toast.

* * * * * *

As the months passed I still found myself longing to be with Annie. Nothing had eventuated about Annie's messages, although they kept coming, she was unable to discover the source. Monty had finished his latest piece of art work using a cow's corpse which was really stinking the house out, but he assured everyone that it wouldn't be in the house for too long. A good thing too because I was about to lose my cool and rip the art work to shreds.
"Monty my mate," I said one night over dinner, "when the hell are you getting rid of that fuckin painting?"
"What the hell are you talking about Pete, I got rid of it days ago, it was probably the worst of my artwork yet."
"Well what the hell is that foul smell?"
"I don't know, probably the after smell is still in the house, if you have a problem with it why don't you move out until it leaves."
"No thanks Monty, I couldn't be that charitable, I love annoying you too much."

* * * * * *

A few days later the smell had increased and a round table meeting in the kitchen decided a full house search should be undertaken to reveal the source of the smell. It was the strongest near my room, the 'witches' room, yet it definitely wasn't in mine and all of the rooms nearby did not reveal the cause. Monty pointed at Brad's door and then proceeded to knock, but there was no answer. The smell was definitely coming from his room though. Monty turned the handle and we all entered but I wish I hadn't. None of my intuition had prepared me for what I saw. Brad was lying on the floor with a needle in his arm, dried up vomit all over him and he was starting to decay. Annie rushed past me and took a trip to the toilet, while I just stood there in total shock. Peter was the biggest surprise of all, muttering, "shit happens," as he rummaged through Brad's desk.
"Don't you have any feelings?" I yelled at him.
"I don't have time for drug addicts or arseholes thanks Georgie," Peter replied coldly.
"What do you mean?" I demanded.
"I mean that Brad was Drab, the arsehole who has been harassing Annie on the net for months now."
"Look," he said pointing at Brad's desk, "a computer, and Annie's name written over and over again on the notebook, oh, and the name Drab. Rearrange the letters in Brad.....I'm sure with your psychic powers you'll be able to manage that one Georgie."

* * * * * *

A few weeks later the police informed everyone in the house that the coroner's examination had confirmed that Brad's death was due to a heroin overdose and that there were no suspicious circumstances. Things returned to normal, especially for Annie who was relieved because she was no longer pestered by messages. Monty suggested a pub crawl was in order and Georgie agreed but, Peter had work to do and Annie as usual was engrossed with internet chatter. As Monty zoomed off on his Harley with Georgie clinging to his waist, Annie sat at her desk enjoying what she had missed for so long.

* * * * * *

God I hate these people, Peter thought to himself, you try to be so nice and all they do is betray you. Everyone of them is a liar. As for Annie, she is the worst of them all. She knew how much I loved her, but she's just like my wife. I wonder if they've found her yet. Bitch!

* * * * * *

As Annie sat at her table, Peter quietly turned the door handle and stood watching the woman he had once loved. Annie sensed that someone was in the room and turned around.
"What are you doing in here Peter, get out!" she shouted.
"For one Annie, never speak to me like that again," Peter threatened.
"Peter, calm down, you're scaring me."
"Scaring you, how do you think I feel living with a pack of liars."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Annie stammered.
"Oh really, you must think I'm quite stupid, but I know everything about you people, like that pathetic excuse for a human being Brad, who didn't have anything better to do than take drugs and harass you."
"Some people are better off dead!" Peter concluded
"Are you saying you killed him?" Annie questioned.
"We don't have time for people in life, people who just waste their money on useless items."
Annie was beginning to realize that Peter was serious, and she looked across to the telephone that was just out of her reach.
"And that is not all Annie," Peter continued, "What about our good friend Monty who spent two years in jail for rape, and then the mystical Georgie who is so in touch with the earth and goodness that she has somehow forgotten about her two children who she abandoned."
Peter was now shouting at Annie, but what Annie couldn't understand was how he had found out this information and where he was heading with it.
"Where did you hear all of this nonsense Peter?" Annie asked in a stern voice.
"Well you know how you all wonder what I do during the day, well hacking is my specialty and lets just say the police computers are my friends.....what Annie.....you look concerned."
"No I am not, I am just wondering where you are leading with all of this," Annie replied in a nervous tone.
"Where am I leading, well let's see, I loved you Annie from the moment I saw you, but how can I love you now that you have deceived me?"
"What do you mean, how have I deceived you?"
"What I mean is I can't love you anymore knowing that you have been charged several times for prostitution. Now how can I love that, and you think Drab was sick?"
"Peter what are you doing, get away from me!" Annie screamed as Peter moved towards her.

Peter overpowered Annie easily, and pushed her back into her chair. He clutched her chin roughly and kissed her. "Whore," he said as he reached behind his back and pulled out a knife, and as he slowly slit her throat he whispered into her ear, "Peter, Peter pumpkin eater, deceive him once and then he'll kill ya!"

Achtwan, 1997