Junebell's Story - A Very Drunk Goblin, and a Terrible Apartment Building

Junebell stays by the locked door while Mr. Henderson swipes sweat from his brow. The apartment is dim and tight, lit by city glow leaking through the curtains and the faint neon stain from the spilled liquor outside.

He glances at the hallway, then back at Junebell, his hands shaking as he keeps his voice low.

The promise hangs in the room like warm steam. Mr. Henderson lowers himself onto the edge of a chair, still watching Junebell for any sign she is listening.

The apartment does not relax, but it softens. For the first time all night, there is a quiet pause, and an offer on the table.

Junebell yanks the deadbolt back and the door flies inward. The hallway beyond is all wet shine and that same dark smear, and the thing at the threshold collapses into view like a spilled sack of jelly, quivering and reaching.

She lunges before it can gather itself, grabbing and shoving her face into the wobbling mass. The creature slaps and slicks against her mouth, then vanishes in a gross, gulping suck as she hauls it in.

The hallway goes suddenly empty, save for a wet smear trailing where it was. Inside, Mr. Henderson jerks upright from the chair, staring at the open door as if he cannot decide whether to breathe.

From farther down the building comes another heavy bang, then a dragging scrape that rattles the floorboards. The open doorway breathes cold air into the apartment, and Mr. Henderson looks from Junebell to the darkness outside, waiting for her next move.