Spin Cycle

It’s 10:15 pm, raining, cold and dreary. A typical night in Chicago in September. I’m on a metal bench sitting outside Wash 4 Coin on North Magnolia Ave, formerly Wash U Coin, until it got sold. After a good downpour, The air is crisp and clean. I love it. What ruins the mood is that I’m stuck doing about three weeks' worth of laundry on a Saturday. Long story short, the smell made me want to vomit. So here I am, with six sizeable trash bags full of my clothing, towels, bedding, etc., waiting for a washer to be available.

The glass doors swung open, allowing a group of teen boys to exit. They didn't have any clothes, bags, or detergent with them to indicate any of the guys washed anything. Trailing behind as they rounded a corner was a thick cloud of smoke and the pungent smell of marijuana. Reluctantly, I go inside to get my delightful evening started. The air is stagnant and warm with a hint of sanitizer and industrial cleaner -only five machines operational, based on the "out of order" signs scattered around. Five plastic folding tables are available; however, they were dirtied by the previous customers, with cigarette butts and unidentifiable stains on all except one. I sighed heavily, throwing my bags onto the lonely table.

I carefully sorted my clothing into three piles, an old habit from childhood, and stuffed them into separate washers. I sat down on a folding chair to wait. My surroundings were eerily silent, the slow rumbling and whirring breaking the monotony. I pulled out my cell phone and earbuds and turned on loud, energetic music to keep me awake -Finally, some peace.

A sudden gust of wind threw the door open; cold, humid air and rain flooded in. I sprinted over to force it closed, only to be blocked by a sizeable, intimidating figure. The person was wearing a brown, hooded raincoat and black lace-up boots caked with mud, panting as they stood in the elements.

"This place open?" The person asked with a deep, masculine voice.

I swallowed hard. "It's 24/7, so yeah," I said, voice shaking.

He exhaled. "That's great," Dragging two overstuffed trash bags with him as he entered. "I just got off work, and it couldn't wait." He shook the bags vigorously.

Within moments the person slid off the muddy boots, placing them on the welcome mat to dry out, and pulled off the raincoat to reveal a young, attractive man in blue jeans, a gray shirt, and a white, heavily stained apron. He had short sandy blonde hair and dark brown eyes that threatened to drag me in, a chiseled jawline with plush, soft lips that curled into a smile. Almost instantly, my fear for the man was replaced with interest. God, he was gorgeous.

There was silence for a brief moment as the mystery guy set up a washer with detergent and fabric softener.

“Like what you see, Earbuds?” He quipped, making eye contact with me. He had a sly grin plastered on his face while he opened the first bag.

I blushed furiously. “I…well…maybe?” I stammered, making a fool of myself in front of this perfect stranger.

A hearty laugh erupted from his lips. “Maybe, huh?” He closed the distance between us until our faces were almost touching. “There, now we can be acquainted better. I'm Jonah.” He smelled like cedar and pine, an unusually woodsy fragrance from someone living in the city. Perhaps it's a fancy cologne used to lure unsuspecting women to their doom or his bed. Either way, the smell is intoxicating.

“I-” I stutter, feeling nervous from the sudden invasion of personal space. “I’m Melody.” Cautiously, I took Jonah’s hand in mine and gave it a firm shake.

Jonah beamed with happiness. "I like that name; it suits you." He shuffled over to his laundry and began dumping it into the washer.

"What do you mean?" I asked, putting my earbuds away in my pocket.

"You're mesmerizing," Jonah replied, his back turned to me as he worked. "Like a song."

I chuckled nervously, playing with the ends of my hair. "You're weird," Shyly; I glanced over at Jonah. "But sweet. Thank you."

Briefly, he glanced back and nodded in response. "You're welcome."

Jonah took off his apron and shoved it, along with a dozen others, into the washer next to mine. "Were you using this one?"He asked before pushing the buttons.

"Nope, it's all yours."

With a devilish grin, he poured a clear liquid in and started the load.

"Is there a bathroom here?" Jonah inquired, looking uncomfortable. "I gotta take care of business."

"Over there, but I can't guarantee it's clean," I said with a cringe.

He smirked. "I've seen some nasty things, I'll be fine." He walked towards the tiny unsanitary room. "You mind watching my stuff for a bit?"

I nodded.

The washer he was using wasn't closed all the way, so it stopped immediately. Without thinking, I rushed over to fix the problem. I slammed the lid closed and resumed the cycle. That was a close one.

Several minutes passed, but Jonah hasn't come out of the toilet yet. I hope he's alright, his face was pale and he looked to be in discomfort. Maybe I should check on him? Would that be creepy? Whatever. He could be dead or something! Desperately, I pound on the door.

"Jonah, are you okay?"

Muffled animalistic snarls and groans were audible through the cheap wooden door. What the hell is that?!

I swallowed. "Jonah, please answer me. I'm worried about you."

Shallow, labored breaths answered me.

"I'm coming in!" I shout, ramming my shoulder into the door until it gave away.

Jonah was on his hands and knees in front of the sink, jeans covered in filth from the grotesque tile flooring. His short hair was mussed up and thick with sweat and his head was angled so I couldn't get a good look at his face.

"J-Jonah?" I whispered, reaching down and tapping on his shoulder.

A chill shot down my spine at the scene in front of me. Strung across the floor was a clear storage bag overflowing with organs. Their origins were unknown. Chunks of gore and thick, sticky blood were splashed across the walls, toilet, and sink. Jonah jerked away from my hand and looked up. Terror swept through me. His eyes were wild and crazed; filled with an emotion I couldn't identify. Dark liquids were dripping from his plush, kissable lips, creating a puddle on his hands. His cheeks were stuff full of... something as he chewed aggressively. Swallowing his meal, a wicked grin spread across his face. Sensually, he licked the juices off his lips. Maliciously, he crawled towards me. Sweet Jonah didn’t exist anymore, only this horrible monster remained.

I shrieked, darting away from him and out the door of the laundromat, leaving my phone and other belongings behind. Full of adrenaline, I ran blindly through the night hoping to find a place to hide. Or better yet, someone who could help me. Despite living in a city, the area was pitch black with few street lamps scattered around. The streets were devoid of people or any activity, providing the perfect setting for my demise. My legs were heavy and sore, my lungs were struggling to pump oxygen due to the cold, humid air and frantic movements. If I’m not careful, I’ll be killed.

Eventually, an alleyway appears. I round the corner and hide behind a dumpster. Grateful, and for the moment safe, I exhaled and relaxed against my smelly savior. My mind was still racing, trying to make sense of what I witnessed. Jonah was walking around with a freaking bag of organs. Who does that?! Was he a serial killer feasting on animal organs, or maybe a cannibal enjoying his latest victim? I guess it doesn't matter as long as I get far away from him. My breathing finally settled and I collapsed onto the hard, unforgiving ground. Running will only do so much, I needed a real plan, otherwise, I'm done for.

"There you are," A cold voice whispered. The tone struck my heart with fear. It was Jonah, I'm sure of it. "Found you, Earbuds."

Without thinking, my eyes darted upwards. Above me was a towering, menacing figure leaning against the dumpster. My lips quivered at the sight of a beast standing at least a foot taller than Jonah; completely naked except for thick, unkempt chocolate brown fur. Silently observing I noticed the same dark brown eyes that captured my attention; the lips were thinner and curled into a wicked smile, overflowing with razor-sharp teeth. His skin was saturated in the same alluring cologne from earlier. There was a shrill noise coming from behind me; Jonah's hand, was now a mess of gangly phalanges and jagged nails. They were scratching at the wall next to my head.

Frozen in fear, words desperate to escape my throat, I started sobbing.

He carefully traced my jaw with his claws until they reached my bottom lip.

"Don't be afraid," Jonah soothed, breathing heavily into my ear. His breath reeked of death. "I won't hurt you... yet." The tip of his thumb popped my lip free.

I shuddered, what else could I do? I was going to die!

"You have a choice to make," Jonah explained, crouching down to meet my eye contact.

Gathering what saliva I could, I tried to speak.

"W-what choice?" I choked out in between sobs. His eyes pierced through my soul, breaking the walls I hid behind. Whatever Jonah was, he was obviously very powerful and formidable. Those orbs could crumble the will of the strongest man. A meek, shy thing like me stood no chance.

"You can either join me or feed me."

Thank you for reading, I hope you guys enjoyed this thrilling story. It took me a long time to finish it, but it was well worth it! I'm going to be passively flexing my creative brain, so stay tuned. If you're interested in more of my material please check out my profile. And if you're feeling particularly generous, please leave insights for this and share it with anyone who might enjoy it!

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