THEY ALL WANT US DEAD

ROUGE - “...at least that’s what he told me before he left the wall that day.”

The out-of-breath, sweaty interviewer presses the audio recorded’s record/play buttons in unison, causing the wheels to spin the tape.

ROUGE - “We wasn’t recording? I need to start over?”

INTERVIEWER - “No need. It’s fine. Continue with your story. We use the first bit to get you warmed up. More at ease. More yourself. I apologize for the technical difficulties earlier, but this corner of the department has been neglected for a long time.”

The recorder is repositioned closer to Rouge; his eyes shift to the recorder and back to the interviewer.

ROUGE - “Kidding me? When you’re near death, as often as I am, ya learn to remain in the present. Always in the now and always warmed up.”

He pulls a cigarette out and lights it. He takes a long deep drag that turns a quarter of the cigarette into ash.

ROUGE - “It’s ok if I smoke?”

The interviewer leans as far as he can in his chair, reaching for a switch on the wall behind him. He can’t reach it, so he scoots his chair, one screechy nudge at a time, back toward the wall. Rouge’s antennas twist and jerk with each scooch.

The interviewer finally flips the switch, turning on a large ventilation fan above the table they both sit at. Out of breath, the interviewer shifts his seat back to its original position, noisy inch by noisy inch. Out of breath, it takes him a minute to regain composure.

INTERVIEWER - “Make yourself at home. I insist.”

Rouge is already lighting a second cigarette with the last embers of his first.

ROUGE - “You don’t mean that. ‘Make yourself at home.’ No one, and I mean no one, means that when they say it. No, I take that back. This one apartment renter used to say it to his guests, and he meant it. But you? No, you can’t tell me ‘no’ because I know I’m permitted to smoke here, which is my right.

He takes another long drag.

ROUGE - “After all, that vent you just flipped on was installed for something more deadly than secondhand smoke.”

He leans over, rests two of his elbow on the table, and blows smoke directly at the recorder with an airy whistle.

ROUGE - (To the recorder) “Yous listening? Who’s gonna play this recording back? Whoever the heck you are. You all want me dead. You want us all dead. You too, right?”

The interviewer, still breathing heavily, sweat darkening his sloppy armpits, makes him look like he is melting.

INTERVIEWER - “I don’t have to answer any of your questions.”

ROUGE - “And yet, yous just did.”

INTERVIEWER - “Please, let’s get to the heart of the matter, shall we?”

ROUGE - “Sure. You’s all want me to explain how it is that I am still thriving after the release of the toxin into the walls of apartments at 231 west 149th street. Am I right?”

INTERVIEWER - “Correct.”

ROUGE - “Since I’m not going to make it out of this room alive, I can at least immortalize my savior.”

He pulls out a third cigarette and taps it on the table, clearly collecting his story.

ROUGE - “That man that truly wanted his guests to be at home, he’s got a daughter. She saved me, and he spared me.”

He takes a drag and turns his head as far as he can, side to side. He blows the smoke all around and chuckles as the interviewer coughs.

ROUGE - “You haven’t been updated either, huh? What’s your name?”

INTERVIEWER - “I don’t have—

ROUGE - “Yeah, yeah, you don’t have to answer. Well, it’s starting to show.”

INTERVIEWER - “What is?”

ROUGE - “Your disdain.”

He extinguishes the cigarette on the metal table.

ROUGE - “The chemical you pump into this room acts as a cleaner, too, right? It’s alright, and you don’t have to answer.”

INTERVIEWER - “You were starting to tell me about the man and his daughter.”

ROUGE - “Was I? The man hated me as much as everyone else and thought we were all disgusting and diseased!”

INTERVIEWER - “How do you know what he thought?”

ROUGE - “He’d tell it to us. My cousin, Creekt, I was telling you about. When he got stuck in one of those inhumane sticky traps, this man found it and told how he viewed us all as he carried him to the trash. When those sticky pads are tossed into the trash, it presses whoever’s on it to the plastic, and they suffocate!”

He slams his top four hands down onto the table.

ROUGE - “Anyways, this man ended up having love for me because one day, his daughter found me in the bathroom. She said, ‘Oh, he’s cute, he’s so cute.’I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. The man comes in and is about to kill me when she says, “No, No! Don’t. What did he ever do to you?” I have never seen a mind change so quickly. Her love transferred to her father, and he stopped killing us on that day. He didn't let them spay that trash into his apartment. We all stayed in his bathroom for a week until the poison lost its strength. Damn! I need a smoke!" Still left sticky pads out, and nah new guys ended up there, but me and mine was good.”

INTERVIEWER - “This is hard to believe.”

Rouge pulls out his pack of cigarettes and realizes it’s empty.

ROUGE - “Ah well, you are stuck in this part of the department dealing with people you hate. I feel for you. You nameless prisoner.”

INTERVIEWER - “I volunteered for this position.”

ROUGE - “Really? Why?”

INTERVIEWER - “I will answer this one. My mother got sick because a roach fell into her frosted flakes, and she got hepatitis. She died.”

ROUGE - “That’s hard to believe.”

The tape runs out, and the recorder stops.

ROUGE - “Is that it?”

INTERVIEWER - “Yup”

ROUGE - “I wish you could stay in here with me.”

The interviewer struggles but manages to get out of his seat. Again, he is out of breath and walks over to the door and knocks on it. A moment later, it opens, and just before he exits the room, he turns to Rouge.

INTERVIEWER - “You know your cousin who was pressed against the plastic?”

ROUGE - “What about him?”

INTERVIEWER - “Nothing. I want you to remember him as the raid leaks into the room, and you start holding your breath.”

Then he leaves the room, and the door shuts behind him.

ROUGE - “Good thing I believe in Doctor Brian L. Weiss. I won’t return as one of the vermin working in this department. Just wish I had one more cancer stick before I get cancer and die of old age.”

He chuckles to himself when the hiss of the raid comes from a vent under the table. The dense gas remains low to the floor as it builds and slowly begins to rise.

ROUGE - “Here’s to the next one.”

Rouge pushes back from the table, flipping his chair back, and he falls into the gas and disappears as it encases him.

____

I know it’s a bit dark, but it popped into my head after finding a roach on a sticky pad. My daughter did stop me from killing it with the lines in the story. I also mean it when I say make yourself at home. As long as you don’t smoke.

I love stories and am thankful for @Vocal.