THUMP! Goes the Party Upstairs

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A couple is being disturbed by a party going on in the apartment above them. But when they go to complain they find that this isn't any kind of party they have ever encountered before.

Submitted: August 09, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 09, 2014




Pam’s fork stopped just short of her mouth as a sour look crossed her face. Then shifted her gaze from her husband towards the ceiling for what --in her mind, anyway-- had to have been the ump-teenth time before her food finally found it’s way home.

Another loud thump followed, this time accompanied with the sound of something heavy being dragged back and forth.

“Sounds like we have ourselves some new neighbors,” Bob said, trying to make light of a situation that was clearly annoying his wife.

Pam’s immediate answer to his obvious claims was to stab her fork into her pasta and twirl.

The condo above Bob and Pam Forsythe had been empty since they moved in two months earlier. Much to Pam’s delight. After living in a number of apartments through their five year marriage, they had always seemed to find a way to end up living beneath near-do-wells of one sort or another. Which had run the gambit from wild teenage parties because of parents that were never around to people leaving their pets to toil all day long on the balcony which would leave the pet’s waste dripping down through the slates like rain. Once, in the middle of the night, an upstairs neighbor thought it would be a good idea to take a knife and start hacking away at the ice that accumulated over his cable dish, because it was making reception nearly impossible for him. At least that was what he said to them when they questioned his actions. That moment had been the final straw and they decided that they finally had had enough of renting and wanted to buy. However, due to the shitty state of the housing and banking markets, the best it seemed they could afford was a condo. Pam at first wasn’t crazy about the prospect of yet again of possibly living under possible undesirables, but when the realtor showed them the condo building on the corners of 93rd and Washington, in the Thompson’s Market neighborhood, Pam adored the place.

“And the best thing about the this building is that it’s quiet,” the realtor told them as they walked through. “And if there are any problems you just go and see someone on the board. That’s the one of the nice things living in a building that has an association. They like to stay on top of things.”

Now all seemed to be for naught.

“Well, the least they could do is be a little courteous for those that live below them.”

Bob reached out across the table for his wife’s hand, reassuringly. But found only table.

“Maybe they are just moving in,” Bob sighed.

“At eight o’clock? On a Saturday Night?” Pam’s statement was punctuated by more screeching from whatever was being dragged along the floor above them. “Oh for Pete’s sake! I think I’m gonna…” Pam began to rise from her chair.

Wait,” Bob said, impatiently. He knew his wife well, and knew where this was going to lead. “Wait.”


“Because I don’t want you to let them ruin our night. That’s why.” Bob sighed, trying to regain control of the situation. This was supposed to be a romantic dinner after a long hectic week for the both of them. And tonight was going to, hopefully, alleviate some of the stress. But now…

“So I’ll go up there and say something. I don’t think that you are in the right mood for it.”

“You’re damn right I’m not in the right mood for it.”

“That’s why I’ll go. Remember we have to live with these people.”

“Well make sure you remind them of that when you’re up there. That condo life goes both ways. I don’t want you backing down to “save the peace” like the last time.”

Bob shot her a pained look as he got up from the table. He hated it when his wife got like this. When the stress got a little too much she had a tendency to become a real bitch --like now. Although that was something he would never say to her face, or to anyone else’s for that matter in fear that it might get back to her. That was a confrontation that he never needed to have.

Bob paused for a second as he exited, debating if he should use the elevator or not. The quickest way, it seemed, would be the stairs. And the quicker he took care of this the better. That way he might just be able to salvage not only the evening but life with their new neighbors.

The door that lead to the stairs was just to the left of the his; the latch click and then footfalls echoed hollowly off the grey concrete making the empty stairwell feel even emptier. Bob found it rather redundant, as he swung around the corner that marked the halfway point of his ascent, that each floor had two flights between them. But whatever.

Bob found the fifth floor hallway uneasily quiet. Especially one where a party as loud as the one that raged above their heads was supposed to be. Bob thought that maybe he lucked out. That they decided to take their party on the road. Possible for the of the night perhaps?

Bob just caught the slightest hint of noise come from the door in question as he was about to head back down, wearing a smile of mission accomplished, then found himself standing in front of it about to knock before he knew it.

As his knuckle fell through the air towards the door Bob thought that this is the problem of not taking the elevator : Not giving himself time to think of what to say. Indecision, though, made his first attempt at a knock a feeble one. The little tap the knock ended up being was almost too quiet for even Bob to hear much less anyone on the other side. Just then a scary thought entered his mind : if he had any hopes of seeing Pam naked tonight then he’d better man the fuck up. Now, Bob’s second attempt at knocking, ended up having a little too much gusto and it came off like one of those knocks one would hear on the television show COPS as they were hunting down a suspect.

What am I? Bob thought as sweat began to collect on the back of his neck as he stood, waiting, feeling like a complete asshole now. Knocking challenged?

Bob tried to focus on the layout of the apartment on the other side of the door and how much it must resemble his own instead of focusing on how much of a doofus he was. In truth he was slightly curious on how they had it set up. His wife, Pam, was of a certain type, where she liked the country feel, almost old fashion in a way. Pam also loved her borders --something that Bob, himself, thought stupid-- which she put around each room where the wall met the ceiling. Each border depicting a different country setting from cows in fields to little boys fishing. As he mused the door suddenly flew open, startling Bob as he was unprepared for the sudden appearance of someone or by the woman’s shear, sultry beauty.

Teased out blonde hair cascaded down past her shoulders framing a flawless face that gave Bob the impression of a lion's mane. And while she appeared young --younger than Bob thought he would encounter-- her eyes gave the sense that she was much older than her years as they stared back at him through large framed glasses that Bob could tell were more for the look than for correction. However, the glasses --or the reason she wore them-- were the furthest thing from his sight (or mind). The half shirt she was wearing --if one could call it that-- stopped just past her nipples, where they poked out at him mockingly (For some strange reason the image of Winnie the Pooh flashed in his mind, how the bear wore something similar in those kids cartoons) ; A pair of black garters streaked out from underneath a plaid catholic schoolgirl skirt, that would have probably made a better belt as it hung low on her hips, connecting to the tops of fishnet stockings halfway down her thighs, disappearing into what Pam would undoubtedly called a pair of black hooker boots.

The thought of his wife brought Bob back to the here and now, his hardness --something he didn’t even know he had it until it happened-- began to diminish.  Bob tried to find his voice. Something else that was hard as the exotic blonde’s eyes bored into his. Giving Bob the impression that she could almost read his thoughts. Especially with the way, and what can only be best described as wicked, her smile crept across her face.

“Hi… Ah… “ Bob’s voice caught in his throat, he coughed, and tried again. “Hi… “

“Hi, yourself.” The blonde’s voice was smooth, deep. The kind that you used to find in old film noir films.

“Yeah… Hi… ah, my wife and I… ah, we thought, well, we were just wondering if everything was alright.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” The blonde leaned against the door jam. Her left arm swung easily over the top head leaving, her right toyed with something unseen along the ripped collar of her shirt.

“It’s just, well, we live right below you and we’ve been hearing, ah… well, a lot of noise. And we just wanted to make sure that everything was alright.”

“Aw, how sweet of you. Coming to my aide.” Laughter arose from somewhere deep inside the apartment, as she smiled that smile again. “No, nothing so sinister --well, at least I don’t think so. No, we’re just having a little party is all. Would you like to come in? Join the fun?”

“Um, no thank you. I was just here to make sure that you were all right. We didn‘t realize that anyone had moved in.”

The blonde laughed lightly. “Moved in? No, we’ve always been here.”

“Really, I didn’t realize…”

“We have just been… away.”


“Well then, as you can see, I’m quite alright.” She reached out, touched Bob lightly, her fingers just barely touching his chest but the reaction that it caused within him was unbelievable; an electric current seemed to flow from her fingers throughout Bob’s body. Pulsating his head, his groin. “But feel free to come back if you change your mind. We always have room for one more.” And with that, she closed the door.

Bob was left to linger in the hallway ; left staring at the closed door before him. The blonde’s vanilla scent still permeated the air, stirring up feelings as it did, and it dawned on him that he wasn’t smart enough to ask her her name. And yet she didn’t ask him his either. Leaving Bob to feel as if he had been abandoned not just in life but spirit as well.

What was, supposedly had been, a romantic dinner was now just mushy noodles glued to one another inside a cold marinara. Bob pushed his fork absently through it, their conversation had grown silent after Pam played the usual twenty questions on his return. Now as he sat there with the remains of what was (in truth) always a lackluster meal, his thoughts kept returning to the girl at the door ; On how it felt when she touched him, even if it had only been a second long brush.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” Bob said, looking up at his wife.

“I said, if you would care to listen, is that a lot of good it did you going up there. They’re just as loud as ever.” Her statement was punctuated by another of a series of loud bangs. “Christ, did you say anything to them at all?”

“Ah, yeah. I did. I asked her nicely that we would appreciate if they could tone it down.”

Her? Figures. I tell you to go up there and lay down the law and you end up being coy and taken back by a pair of tits. I knew it was a mistake for you to go up there.”

“Jesus, Pam.“

Bob’s fork rang sharply as it bounced against his plate as he pushed himself away from the table.

“Where are you going?” Pam asked, quizzically.

“Back up there.”

“I didn’t mean for you-- ”

“No? What did you mean then?”

“Lets just call the building manager. Or just call someone on the board. Have one them go over there.” Pam said, surprised by the sudden forcefulness coming from her husband. “Why else do we pay that outrageous monthly assessment.”

“And what? So I can listen to you bitch about it for the rest of weekend?”

Bob was out the door and rushing up the stairs before his wife had a chance to answer.

As before, when Bob pushed his way onto the next floor, the hallway was quiet.

Bob took a deep breath, smoothed down his clothes. As Bob’s hands slid over the vicinity of the blonde’s touch his thoughts once again turn to the moment --the feeling-- just before she had shut the door. Bob ached in anticipation of seeing her once more. So much so that he didn’t understand it, of why he felt this way. How that touch somehow stirred something in him he had not felt… had not felt, ever, now that he thought about it.

His knocks sounded hollow, like there was nothing on the other side of the door but an empty room. Last time, Bob could just make out the presence of a party. Now, however, there seemed to be nothing. Not the slightest noise. Maybe this time around he truly had lucked out and they took the festivities else where. Pam couldn’t be the only one bitching about their unruliness. The thought terrified him. But Bob knew that it couldn’t be true. He would of past them.

Unless. Unless they used the elevator while he took the stairs.

Again Bob didn’t think that was possible. It only took him seconds to go from his door to hers. And before he could think of anything else the door opened.

“Changed your mind I see. Or are you here again on wife‘s orders?”

Bob was taken back by her knowledge of why he was here the first time. But it quickly past.

Bob felt energized by the sheer sight of her. “ No. Not this time.“ Bob mentally kicked himself on the confession. “I’m Bob Forsythe by the way. Well in case you were wondering.”

“I’m always wondering when it comes to attractive people.” Bob smiled, goofily. “I’m Anna. Anna Dupree.” They shook hands. The energy that passed betweened them made the first brush seem like a static shock Now the energy that coursed through him felt like twenty thousand volts, pulsating with every heartbeat. “Care to come in?”

“Um. Yeah, sure.”

Anna pulled Bob inside.

While the layout was exactly the same as his, Anna’s was sparsely furnished. But that’s not what peeked Bob’s interest. It was the pairings that occupied the the two couches that flanked the living from opposite walls. On one one a guy had a woman bent over the arm of the couch, fucking her doggystyle while a woman was on top of another man grinding her hips over his crotch. On the opposite couch two women were engaged in pleasuring each other as they watched another on her knees in front of her man. His engorged cock disappearing and reappearing in her mouth. In the middle of the room a third man sat naked on a lone chair as one of the most gorgeous brunettes Bob had ever seen danced around him seductively. Every now and then the brunette would hop in his lap, sliding his manhood inside her. Causing his chair to bang and screech along the floor.

So this is why we kept hearing something banging and dragging along the floor, Bob thought. And here I was all the while wondering what the fuck was going on. That it was just that.

Bob couldn’t help but laugh at the thought as he turned back to Anna only to find her leaning against the corner where the wall cut around to a small hall that lead to the main bedroom. Her hands up her shirt, exposing her breasts, pinching her hard nipples.

“Don’t you find it hot,” Anna said, breathlessly. “Watching them fuck like that without a care in the world?”

Before Bob could answer Anna pushed herself away from the wall, grabbing Bob by the back of the neck, passionately kissing him as she took his hand in hers and rubbed it between her legs.

“Feel how wet I am,” Anna said, when she disengaged her mouth from his. “Feel how turned on you make me.” Anna licked her lips, greedily. “Do you want me? I so want you. But you have to give yourself to me freely. Will you do that for me? If you do I’ll show you pleasures like you have never before had.”

Without a moment’s hesitation Bob said yes, causing that wicked smile that had plagued him so returned.

“Good.” Anna snapped her fingers. “Stacey. Candy. Bedroom. Now.” The two women that were locked together in ecstasy got up when summoned, walked hand in hand to the bedroom.

“Are you ready for what comes next, Bob?”

“Yes. Do unto me what you will.”

Anna pushed Bob away from her, hard. And at first he was confused, until Anna pulled him towards the bedroom where Stacey and Candy lied in wait. The three women immediately began to tear the clothes from Bob‘s body. Any and all thoughts of his wife were lost. Lost in a moment that he knew would never come again. Be damned the consequences. Once naked, Bob was thrust onto the bed. His hardness sticking straight up. Stacey grabbed hold of it, taking him into her mouth; Candy straddled his face, moaned loudly as Bob probed her with his tongue. While Anna watched, slowly removing what little she wore.

“Stacey. Get on your back and let him fuck you,” Anna said, reaching into the top drawer of a dresser, the only other piece of furniture in the room.

Stacey stopped giving Bob head, and did as told, easing Bob on top of her, guiding his pulsing erection the whole way. Stacey cried out as Bob thrust deep into her, Candy leaned against the headboard above them, spread eagle, latched onto his ears and forcefully pulled his face towards her clit. A calamity of moans rose ever higher from the three as Anna knelt down on the bed grabbing hold of Bob’s ass cheeks, spreading them apart. Once satisfied, slid the strap on dildo she had put on up into him. Bob cried out in both surprise and pleasure as Anna slid deep --as deep as he was inside Stacey. Candy both laughed and moaned as Bob’s tongue found the right spot, bringing her to climax. She pulled Bob’s face closer to her sex to lap up her sweet juices. Anna, Bob, and Stacey fell into a rhythm with one another.

Anna leaned close to Bob’s ear: “Now the real fun begins.”

Anna’s hands stabbed through Bob’s sides; digging their way in just as Candy’s fingers felt as if they were drilling into his skull.

Stacey’s pussy tightened. Like a mouth biting down. Bob’s screams turned from pleasure to terror as he began to thrash around in effort of trying to free himself. As he did, Bob looked up and found the once beautiful Candy now turned old and rotten; her soft skin became rough as leather. Stacey stared up from where she lay with lidless, drawn back eyes. Her mouth peeled back in a grim, sadistic smile of the corpse she was.

Bob felt as if his life-force was being siphoned off. Screams --not his own-- echoed from the other room as those men found themselves in a similar situation.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” Anna yelled in pleasure as her fossorial hands dug deeper into his body. “I knew you’d taste elegant. Like a fine piece of beef.”

Bob let out one last high pitched scream before darkness descended.



The longer Pam sat alone, the more pissed she became.

Bob had left over an hour ago, to finish the job he had started, complaining about the noise, which had only seemed to grow louder since his departure. Pam knew he must of been suckered into joining them. The man had no backbone. Besides, didn‘t Bob say something about a girl? Why she stayed married was anyone’s guess.

Five more minutes.

Five more minutes.

If Bob wasn’t back she was going to go up there and give them all an earful. Bob included.

The allotted time passed by five, then ten minutes. Pam finally had had enough.

The elevator chimed as it reached the floor. Pam found it surprisingly quiet as she walked. For a party as loud as it was in her place Pam figured all the neighbors would be out. Nonetheless she was alone. Better walls she guessed. Lucky them. That’s probably why no one was complaining. Yet. But after what she was about to give them, the whole building will know it.

Pam began to pound.

“I know you’re in there you piece of shit!” Pam screamed. “I hope she gave you one hell of a blow-job, because it’s the last you’re ever gonna get!”

Oblivious to Pam, doors along the hall began to open ; people stepped out to see what the commotion was about.

“Can I help you?” A fiftyish looking man asked.

Spittle flew as Pam whirled about. “Yeah. I thought this was suppose to be a quiet building! These bunch of assholes have been partying all night long. And now my idiot,” Pam turned back to the door and started pounding again, “good for nothing husband is in there as well!”

“Ah, miss-”

“Missus. Soon-to-be ex Mrs.”

“Okay. Mrs?


“Mrs. Forsythe, what seems to be the matter?”

Pam tried to remain calm as turned back to the man. The best she could manage, though, was to speak through clenched teeth. “I already told you. They’re having a party and my husband is in there.”

The man looked at Pam, bewildered.

“In there?” He asked, pointing at the door.

“Yes, in there. Why else would I be standing here?”

The fiftyish man, who said his name was Carl, pulled Pam a little way from the door --clearly not wanting to be in close of a proximity of it. With hands on Pam’s shoulders, he looked down at her in a fatherly manner and told Pam how that was impossible, that no one lives there. When Pam told him how he must be mistaken, that someone must of moved in, he began to tell her the strange sordid tale of what happened to the occupants of unit 5F. And the women who lived behind that door, who were the worst that human nature could produce.

“They were cultist,” he said. “Who would find and lead unsuspecting young men and women back her from bars or wherever, seduced by their sexuality and promises of drugs, who then did whatever depravity they were doing. These women -these succubus’s for lack of a better term- would then take it one step further.” He took a deep breath. Steadying himself before he continued, clearly shaken by the events that took place.

Pam grew anxious. Her heart began to beat faster than she thought possible.

“What?! Please tell me!” She pleaded.

“I think that maybe we should get the building manager.”

The building’s manager’s hands shook as he tried to put the key in the lock.

“I haven’t been in here since the cops released it --or wanted too. When I had it cleaned. The place was still filled with all kinds of stuff I thought the cops would want. But they said it was just things you could find in…”

Pam stood silently behind him half listening, not really sure what to believe. But Pam knew that somebody had been in there, hell, that was the whole reason Bob came up.

The manager finally managed to get the key in the lock.

The door slowly swung open. Revealing an empty unit. No furniture. No people. Nothing.

The manager turned back to Pam. “Are you sure that your husband is... in there? That there were people here?”

“Positive. The party had been going on for sometime before my husband went to ask them to quiet down. Then went back when they didn’t and I haven’t seen him since.”

Reluctantly the manager lead the way inside. Their voices echoed off the walls as they called out for Bob, making it feel even more empty --if that were possible.

“I haven’t been in here in almost a year.”

“How come no one said anything about this… incident, when we moved in?”

“It’s not something one talks about. I’m surprised that you hadn’t heard anything while you’ve been here.” They spoke in hushed tones now. For no other reason than it felt like the thing to do.

Pam thought about that for a moment. “Probably it’s because we don’t really know anyone who lives here.”

“Still. It made all the papers.”

“I try not to…”

“Man. Can you feel it?” Carl interrupted. “Evil still resides in here?”

The trio moved deeper inside, minding each step as if they didn’t want to wake up anyone that might be there or that maybe their next one they might fall through the floor taking them to destinations unknown.

“I never thought I’d ever step in here again.” The manager said, quietly. “I’m glad nobody’s ever moved in.”

“Bob?” Pam called out, louder this time. Both men looked back at her in shock. “What?” They looked away, back into the interior. “Bob? Are you here?” Pam’s only response was her own voice. “Neither one of you have said what happen to the women that lived here. I assume that they were caught and put in jail?”

“Sadly, I have to say no they weren‘t,” replied the manager. “I guess the police had them under suspicion for a while. It turned out that they weren’t very good at covering their tracks, or maybe they just didn’t care. But when one the city’s counsel men’s son went missing and happened to be last seen with Anna Dupree --she was the one that actually owned this place-- the police wasted no time coming to pay her a visit.”

The trio had finished searching the living/dining area and kitchen. Not like there was a lot of places to look unless Bob had somehow spirited himself away inside the one of the cabinets, and were about to start checking the bedrooms and bath.

“It was such a bad scene. And it didn’t take long for people to start moving out afterward and not moving in. So you can see our reluctance to say anything about what happened. And I know the realtors don‘t want to bring any of that up as well even though they are suppose too.” The manager paused a moment as a chill ran through him. Then changed the subject. “If there were people in here like you said, they don’t seem to be here now. I only hope it was just some kids with a sick fascination and not a bunch of old cohorts of Anna’s.”

“Wait. If they weren’t arrested then what the hell happened to them?”

The manager stared at Pam, cold dread in his eyes, then said, “They were all dead when the cops burst in. Some sort of mass suicide, or so the police said. But it wasn’t like any suicide I’d ever seen.

“The cops showed up at my door just before dawn --the counsel man’s son had been missing for a couple of days by then, and they were hoping, I guess, to get in without much fanfare as possible ; to catch them in the act, so to say. They wanted me to go up and try to get them to open the door for some fake emergency but when I said I had the keys to all the residents they jumped at that. So I did what they asked.

“I sort of got swept up in the rush when I unlocked the door and they barged in, guns drawn. There isn’t a day that passes that I don’t think about what I saw in here.” He shook his head. “I’ll remember until the day I die I. All those bodies lined up along the wall there.” The manager pointed to the wall on the far side of the condo. “Right there. Just lined up one by one. But the bodies were… were like they had been dried up or something. Like all the fluids had been just sucked out. And the smell. That smell. I’ll never forget that smell. It reminded me of something burning. Or like… like…“ The manger searched for the right word. Then, “Almost like Brimstone.”

They opened the bathroom door and found it empty as well.

“It seemed like I could smell that stuff for weeks afterward. It never did come out of my clothes.” The manager opened the bedroom door. The one that lead to the master bedroom. “I had to… Oh dear god no. No. No. No.”

Pam’s shriek filled the condo as Carl fell backward into the bathroom with a loud thud clutching his chest.

Bodies, one by one, were lined up just underneath the window, like dried fruit left too long in the sun.

The smell of Brimstone floated in the air.




© Copyright 2019 Paul Dabrowski. All rights reserved.

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