This year I am working on a story called Bob vs. The Alien Slug Monsters. Instead of an outline I have a basic list of plot points I want to cover between meeting Bob and sending him off to fight the king of the slugs. There is more of a cast of characters than an actual outline, so we will see how the story develops. And with that intro we continue with Bob Versus the Alien Slug Monsters…
Day 34: To his amazement, it was unlocked.
To his amazement, it was unlocked. ‘I suppose the owner felt safe living here,’ Bob thought. The thought made him twinge inside slightly as he thought of the stretchers. Hopefully whoever lived in this cottage was still alive.
‘Although I suppose leaving the back door unlocked wasn’t what allowed someone to come in,;’ Bob thought. He wiped his hands on his jeans and realized he was stalling. He did not want to go in and see one of those things up close. He took a breath and corrected himself. A part of him really did want to see the creature up close. It was the fact that one of the creatures died here that he was having a problem with.
If the creature died, then something happened here that didn’t happen at the other cottages. ‘Higher possibility of a dead resident,’ Bob realized. That was what was stopping him on the door step. He didn’t want to open the door and find that the trusting resident who didn’t bother to lock it was also lying in a crumpled heap somewhere in the cottage.
He took a deep breath and swallowed. ‘If something took down the creature I need to know what it is if I am going to go after the others.’
Leaving the others wasn’t an option. He couldn’t just walk away and be done with it. He couldn’t leave Enid and Eddie for one thing.
Bob reached for the door handle and slipped the door open. It was heavy and slid to the side with a sound not unlike a squeegee drawn across a car’s windshield. Sliding with weather proofed resistance and then a soft thunk when it reached it’s maximum opening. Bob stepped inside.
He wrinkled his nose at the strange odor. Part damp earth, part melted plastic, the scent stained the air. He could smell Chanelle #5 underneath. It was faint a if someone who habitually wore the scent lived in the space and the newly arrived scent pounced on top of it. Looking around, Bob blinked in surprise as he saw some familiar items.
‘Lucille Andrews,’ he thought. Lucille, although younger than his Aunt Margaret , was one of her closest friends in the community. Margaret moved into Golden Meadows when she could no longer manage to live completely on her own and needed a closer watch while maintaining her independence. Lucille moved in after her husband died. When alive he took care of all the details of the house. After his passing Lucille decided she didn’t want to take on that responsibility. She sold the house and used Golden Meadows as a home base.
She traveled a lot. She booked herself on many group tours around the world. Lucille enjoyed coming home without having to worry about that home while she was gone. Bob knew from Enid’s occasional comments that Lucille’s traveling days were through and that the residence here was an increasingly good idea due to flagging health.
Bob nodded. The scent of Chanel #5 was her calling card and familiar, It was however her collection that let him know for certain he was standing in Lucille’s cottage.
Ten til Midnight 