A Knock On The Door

‘Who’s at the door at this time of night’ Margaret said.

‘What?’ Ed replied, looking up from his phone.

‘There’s someone at the door’

Ed could hear singing. It sounded like a radio playing on the other side of the house. 

Knock knock

‘What the fuck?!’ Said Ed.

‘I told you…Go and check!’

‘Alright. Gimme a sec. I’m in my under pants…’

Ed flopped out of bed, fumbled around for his dressing gown and knocked a glass of water off the bed side table.

‘Oh for fuck’s sake’ he said

‘Ed - there’s someone at the door!’

The singing continued. 

‘Yes, Margaret! I’m getting out of bed. It’s 10pm on a Saturday night in Los Angeles. I think we’re fine. The person will probably be more shocked that we were in bed so early. Hang on, I’m coming’ He shouted.

‘I know you’re in there…’, a woman’s voice sing-songed from behind the front door. ‘Come out, come ooouuut wherever you are..’

Ed froze, ‘Er…were you expecting anyone?’

‘No. Were you?’

There was a pregnant pause.

The singing started again. It was the woman outside. She was singing nursery rhymes.

‘Ok. Now I’m genuinely scared Ed.’

‘Yes. Yes. That’s warranted. I’m a little freaked out too. Do we have a bat? Like a baseball bat or something. A stick? What’s this?’ He reached out to the side of the bed and pulled at what looked like a fearsome pipe. But it just turned out to be the vacuum cleaner that had been left out. He dropped it clattering to the floor.

‘Ed! Jesus!’ Said Margaret.

‘Sorry. I need a weapon, something scary.’ 

He opened the closet next to him and rustled around inside looking with his fingers. ‘This’ll do’, he said, pulling out a tennis racquet.

‘Do you want some balls too?’ Margaret said.

‘Thanks’, he replied.

Ed breathed deeply and walked towards the front door. He was wearing a dressing gown that had shrunk in the wash. He could only find one slipper so shuffled staccato jazz beat style down the hall. He carried a carbon fibre Head tennis racquet. The house still smelled of the roast chicken they’s eaten a couple of hours earlier. Decades before, while at college, Ed scared away drug addicts from his back yard by playing Metallica’s Enter Sandman at full volume. Back then he had opened the back door wearing sunglasses and a black leather jacket. The three people burning heroin on tin foil in front of him looked up, then at each other and left. Ed wasn’t sure if they were scared or confused. 

Exit light 

Enter night 

Take my hand

We’re off to never-never land.

‘Ba ba black sheep have you any wool…’

The woman outside the front door sighed and slumped to the floor. It had been a long night. She checked her transmitter. Just one more visitation to go. Next stop was 3 mayreks away in Ohio. An animal mutilation. She liked them. Simple, clean - no humanoids to worry about.

‘PLEASE GO AWAY OR WE’LL CALL THE POLICE’ Margaret shouted from over Ed’s shoulder.

‘Christ, Margaret! - you scared the shit out of me!’

‘Well, you’re just standing there waiting for God know’s what. I just thought…’

‘I can hear you…’ The woman lilted again outside. ‘Let me in’, she pleaded, ‘I’m so very hungry’

Ed looked at Margaret. The color drained from their faces. They searched each other’s eyes for answers but none were forthcoming.

‘What do you want?’ Ed said eventually, keeping a distance from the door, his hand gripping the tennis racquet, Margaret hanging from his other shoulder.

‘London bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down’ sang Xerorius following the script from her Elderskines. It wouldn’t be long now she thought. Just a gentle scare for these two. Nobody will believe them. She picked up one of the two outdoor cushions on the porch of Ed and Margaret’s home and lifted it to her face. She stopped. Her eyes darted left and right to check no-one was watching, then her head split open from both eye sockets to her nose and into the newly created triangle she folded the cushion. It hissed and dissolved as it disappeared into her head.

‘I’m calling the police.’ Ed whimpered. 

It was Margaret who actually dialed the numbers and got through.

‘Are you in danger ma’am?’

‘Um, I don’t know. I mean, she’s singing nursery rhymes. It’s not normal.’

Ed moved around to the kitchen window. From it he could see the front door and the woman slumped in his doorway. He took out his phone, opened the camera and began filming.

Xerorius looked up and saw him. She stared into the camera, smiled, wagged her finger and admonished Ed. ‘No, no no’, she said.

She grabbed the remaining cushion, checked her transmitter and left the property. Outside, the glassy wet road mirrored the street lights downwards and Xerorius fell into a green black abyss.

‘She’s gone. Margaret - she’s gone!’

OK…yeah thanks. Apparently, she’s gone. We don’t need an officer. A drive by might be good though. Yeah. Ok - thanks…’ Margaret said. She hung up and looked to Ed. ‘What just happened?’ She asked.

‘I’m not sure’,  he replied ‘but she stole both our cushions.’