Upstairs, Downstairs.

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Bern's Prose.

 

Upstairs, Downstairs.

 

 

 

I have lived in the downstairs flat for over twenty years. The upstairs flat has been empty for even longer. The owner of the house one day informed me by means of a letter that he has let the top flat out to a Mr. Darkness I was not to worry if I heard noises coming from upstairs. Not that I am the kind to worry about what goes on above me.

 

 

 

Mr. Darkness must have moved into the upstairs flat while I was at work. I heard furniture being moved around, nothing out of the ordinary one might say. It was the singing if one could call it singing it was as if a deep groaning was being chased up and down the tonic sol-fa scale. Most weird to be honest with you and I hoped that he would soon be tired of this caterwauling going on in his flat.

 

 

 

I adjusted my radio a little to drown out this groaning noise. I went to my bed at my usual time ten o’clock in the evening. I still heard this low groaning noise as I dropped off to sleep. Later on I was awakened by a loud bang. The groaning noise was even louder. This Mr. Darkness was it seems a night person. The morning came and I had a quick breakfast. I heard the front door slam. Mr. Darkness had left the house. I am not a nosey person but I went upstairs to the top flat. The flat door was open. This was to me very strange, who leaves the flat door open when leaving the house.

 

 

 

Entering the flat I smelt a strange smell it was a smell of brimstone then the walls what had Mr. Darkness done to the walls bright reds and yellow with flames looking very real lighting up the rooms. This I thought was a small replica of the Satanic Hell that one has read about so often. The Name, Mr. Darkness this now had a weird clang to it. The groaning noises as if someone was practising for the Devils own choir then that loud bang. What did this all mean? I went into the next room here the same fiery wall colouring, he could not have coloured the whole flat in the short space of time that he had been here. Did he have helpers from Hell was this Mr. Darkness really Lucifer the Devil himself and what was that loud bang that I had heard at midnight. I went into the next room this was the kitchen. No I must be mistaken this was no normal kitchen. The huge boiling cauldron standing in one corner was not part of a normal kitchen. The burnt out logs underneath the Cauldron caused me to kneel down and feel the rest of the burnt out logs. They were still warm the ash suddenly started drifting, it rose to the ceiling leaving a picture of me touching the still warm ashes.

 

 

 

What should I do if this was Lucifer why had he come to live in the flat above me? I am not a weak person but this was a little too much for me. I telephoned the owner of the flats and told him that I would be leaving to go abroad for business reasons. If he did not hear from me or my rent stopped coming to his bank he should sell all of what was left in the flat and re-let it to another tenant. I quickly packed a bag and with this feeling that I was being followed. I went to the railway station and caught the next train direct to the City of London. From London I went to Heathrow Airport and booked a flight across to Paris. Here in Paris again I had this feeling that I was being followed. Booking in at a hotel I went down to the restaurant to have an evening meal. The waiter served me a light meal and during the meal the groaning noise started off exactly as it did in the upstairs flat. Then in one corner a flame shot high up in the air and sitting at a table was Mr. Darkness. The Devil himself raised his glass of red wine and waved to me. I placed some money on the table and left the hotel. I took a taxi and after a few minutes I walked along the streets of Paris every couple of steps I looked behind me to see if I was being followed. I took a train to Marseille leaving Marseille for North Africa I was now on the run from Mr. Darkness or Lucifer. Even in Africa I was not free. Mr Darkness always found me. His groaning choir was always with me by day and by night. I once more went back to London. Phoning the owner of the flats, I was welcomed and told that the keys were hanging on a piece of string

 

in the letter box. I was not to worry about the rent that had all been taken care of by Mr. Darkness. I retrieved the keys and went into my flat, it was just as I had left it.

 

 

 

I heard the front door being opened the steps up to the top flat told me that Mr. Darkness had returned to his flat. The groaning started all over again reinforced by the unholy choir. I sat listening all was different in my flat. Looking around me my walls were coloured with flames rising to the ceilings and beyond. Now my voice joined in with the chorus. My groans were such that Mr. Darkness came down walked right through the walls of my flat and together we spent hours groaning away the evening. At midnight Lucifer took me by the hand we went into my kitchen. A cauldron with a wooden log fire under it.  Looking into the cauldron I was not surprised to see a human body boiling away. With Mr. Darkness or Lucifer I sat down to a meal that was out of this world.

 

 

 

No you cannot save me I am a servant of my Master Lucifer. Lord of all the unholy in this universe. My praises of groans are to be heard all over North London every evening and no one can stop them. Most people think that this moaning and groaning is the noise from the evening traffic. But now you all know different it is Lucifer My Master and I singing our pleasure at having so many souls listening to our unholy music every evening the loud bang at midnight is the noise that the dying traffic makes as the Devil commands it to stop. The unholy choir of groaners all obey their Master. I the scribbler have told you my story how about you have you a story to tell I will willingly make place for you? Bern.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Is this a real story. I leave it up to you.

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