A lovely bunch

On your way, to the store, having decided to walk during such a sunny summer day, you pass a house, that one house that never seems to stay sold. It’s been left standing empty for nearly, well, three years perhaps? Today however, something is different. Something seems, strange about the house, the blue paint seeming oppressive even as that, wait, the door? That grim black door, hanging open slightly, as if beckoning you, beseeching you to come forward, to walk up those crooked steps of the porch and find out what awaits you inside….

Mustering your courage, you walk into the house, giving into that open door. Inside the house looks abandoned, and yet strangely, not some how. Really more of an in use feel rather than any place used as a true home.

Food wrappers littering the ground, an ashtray still having smoke coming from a snuffed cigar. Obviously someone is here, still likely judging by the state of things, who? A new owner yet to move in? But, there is a smell, a sickening yet familliar smell, that you can’t quite place, and music, coming from somewhere, with singing even, like, karaoke perhaps? Maybe someone just forgot to lock the door, still, it’s strange, a bit unsettling really.

The worry and strangeness making a knot in your stomach, you decide to perhaps to call out, to tell the owner they forgot to lock the door and maybe even welcome them to neighborhood perhaps? Thats, wait, what? You see it now,  another open door this one simply freezing you to the spot, as it hangs like it was ripped partly from it’s hinges, what can only be blood smearing the white paint. Letting out a small cry you see him now, that giant of a man.

He stands there, at the bottom of that darkened stairwell, wearing a suit and black bowler hat, in front of a shelf. The tune for the song “I’ve Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts” is playing and the man singing along in a clear, firm voice. “I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts, big ones, small ones, most as big as your head!” He turns, seeing you and smiles, starting up the steps slowly, holding something in his hands, a, coconut?

No, no the red liquid dripping from the shaved stump of a neck says otherwise, the burnt flesh blackened, something sewn across the skin to give it that some fuzz that’s along a coconut, wait…a scalp, a scalp is sewn to the skin of the face, the brown hair trimmed short enough to mimic the song as he continues to sing as he walks, slowly, towards you, his large frame causing his footsteps to thud against the stairs. Finally, almost in front of you his drops to a whisper “You’ve a got a lovely coconut, just the size of your head, I’m about to take, please don’t mind, but soon you be dead!” He laughs then, his hand reaching for you, grabbing you by the shirt as he opens his mouth again and an instrumental blares out before cutting back into that song, that song that seems to have inspired this even as a blaring noise seems to come from ever where around you getting louder and louder until finally he pulls his hand back and you try to get away as you see the flash of steel in it before that blaring noise seems to overwhelm you even as he swings his hand down with that cleaver finally causing you to…

“Hey, wake up your alarm has been going for hours, and why is that stupid coconut song your ringtone? Someone was calling to see if you wanted to come in to work today. Breakfast is on the table, it’s cold though since someone didn’t want to wake up.” Rubbing your eyes as you’re told this, you look around, and smile, just a dream…just a dream…then turning you look at your window, seeing someone, a large someone, smile at you and wink, holding up what looks to be a coconut before you moves off whistling to himself….

For whatever reason, you’re sure, if you could hear it you’d know the tune he picked….

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