The Last Door

One more door. That’s what I keep telling myself. One more door and that’s it for an entire glorious week. One week on the beach with Sarah and the kids. The fact that she invited me on this trip had to be a good sign, right? Maybe me moving back home and getting this stupid job proved to her that I was ready to be the husband and father that she had always wanted me to be. The mere thought of being back with my family made me take the stairs up to the door in twos. Who knows? Maybe I’d even get a sale at this one. I was feeling unstoppable.

After ringing the doorbell, I stepped back to examine the front porch. I work as a door-to-door salesman for a vacuum company. Our newest vacuum was being pitched as the ultimate indoor and outdoor cleaning machine. I was making a mental note of some cobwebs in the corner that I could use for the demonstration when some movement from behind the front windows caught my attention. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like someone, or something had darted through the front room at an incredible pace. I rang the doorbell and waited for several moments, but all signs of movement had ceased.

I looked down at my watch. My shift was nearly over so I decided to turn around and get my vacation started a little early. No sooner had my back turned, did the front door creak open. I had never heard a door creak like that outside of an overdone haunted house. That noise reverberated like we were standing in an old European cathedral. I was so taken aback by the noise that I completely forgot to smile and start my pitch. Instead, I just stood there staring at the person who had answered the door.

A tall, gaunt man stood in the doorway. His oversized handlebar mustache was doing little to hide the unimpressed look on his face. He was wearing a heavily stained apron that said, “Dogs eat. Cats dine”. Behind him, I could see several cats throughout the home, and I quickly realized what I saw dashing by earlier. After realizing I had been silent for far too long, I attempted to snap back into focus and uneasily rushed into my pitch.

“Good afternoon, Sir! I’m here with Vac America and we have a special deal we are currently running for your neighborhood only on our most powerful vacuum cleaner yet. I know you’re probably busy, but if you’d be willing to allow me to demonstrate some of our new features, I’m sure it will be worth your time.” He glared at me harder. Now I’ve only been doing this door-to-door thing for a few months now, but I could tell by now when a customer was about to tell me off. He was visibly annoyed and just as he started to open his mouth to begin a tirade, I threw in, “It looks like you’ve got some cats? Me too! Let me tell you what a lifesaver this vacuum has been at my place.” The man’s demeanor changed instantly. A wide grin slowly appeared on his face, and I could practically see the lightbulb appear over his head.

His voice was a deep, breathy murmur, with words that were drawn out way longer than necessary. “Yes. I do have cats. In fact, I was just in the middle of preparing their favorite meal. We would love a demonstration. After all, mealtime can be quite… messy around here.”

Weird as the comments were, the guy did seem interested. If I could make a sale here, I could have some extra cash to impress Sarah with this week. God knows I need to make a good impression. So, I followed the man inside the home. “Why don’t we start with the furniture, Sir? I’d love to show you how well this vacuum removes the pet hair off couch cushions.” He nodded and led me into the living room. Every step further into this house revealed more cats. I couldn’t even have guessed how many cats were living here at this point. I set down my kit and began unpacking.

The way the man watched me set up was unnerving. His eyes never left me. I was ready to get this demonstration over with even if it meant losing the sale at this point. Once I was set up, I started on the far end of the sectional. I went through my normal spiel about how regular cleaning can improve the air quality, la di da di da. The man was still smiling widely, but I had a strange feeling it wasn’t about what I was saying. The sectional was indeed covered in cat hair, but as I pushed the attachment between the cushions, the vacuum made that familiar sound of larger debris traveling down the hose. This is the part of the demonstration where I take the filter out and show the customer the filth that they didn’t know was in their home. I removed the filter and examined the contents. Just as I was about to present it to the man, I noticed something. Tangled in a mess of hair, was a fingernail. Not a clipping, but an entire fingernail. Maybe it was just my nerves, but I swear there was also a string of flesh still clinging to the underside.

You know in horror movies, when someone discovers something horrid about the person they’re standing in front of? They start acting obviously startled or just straight up tell the person what they know. I always get frustrated by this and think just act normally until you leave! Well, that’s a lot easier said than done. I looked up at the man and by some miracle he was looking down and petting one of his cats. This gave me just enough time to collect myself and think of an exit.

“Sir, I’m not feeling very well. I appreciate your time but think it’s time for me to go”.

With this, the man had a look of disappointment on his face. He replied, “So soon? I was really hoping you could give me a demonstration in the kitchen. It’s quite messy in there and I think your visit is just what it needs. I insist you stay for one more demonstration.” I could tell by the ever-growing smile on his face, that he wasn’t asking. Something was very wrong. All I could think to do was to keep acting normal while I worked out a plan.

I followed the man into the kitchen where the situation escalated from bad to terrifying. He wasn’t lying about the mess. There were various pieces of meat all over the countertops. Dark brown and red stains blended in with the countertops almost as if they were by design. An army of strange blenders were littered on the working surfaces. They were all filled with different kinds of maroon stew-like concoctions. There was no hiding my reaction from this one. The gory sight and vile smells were so permeating that I had to brace myself against the refrigerator to stop from falling. I was spinning as the horror of the situation sunk deeper and deeper into the pit of my stomach.

As if reaching some sort of culmination point, my vision focused, and I became aware of the steel handled vacuum hose in my hands. I raised it over my shoulders like I was at bat for a championship game. The man’s eyes shrank, and I wondered how I didn’t notice the obvious malice in the man’s eyes from the beginning. I should not have entered this house. But it was too late for those kinds of thoughts.

“I’m just going to walk out of here now. I don’t want to hurt you, but you need to get out of my way”.

The man replied in a defensive and surprised tone, but there was a layer of something else underneath it too. “Well, of course. I would never keep someone here against their will. I’ll show you the door”. He turned and headed out of the kitchen towards the front of the house. Still clutching the steel hose, I slowly followed at a distance.

“I told you that I wouldn’t keep you here against your will, but they may have other plans”, said the man as I entered the front room. Surrounding the front door was at least 20 cats. They were all hissing and had their ears turned back towards their heads. They slowly creeped towards me. The man’s grin had gone from creepy to maniacal. “They won’t simply let their dinner walk out the door!” His laugh was shrill and demented. I now noticed the cleaver grasped in one of his hands and a meat tenderizer in the other. I might’ve laughed at the absurdity of it all if I wasn’t possibly moments away from becoming just another stain in this man’s home.

Just then, if by some divine intervention, the metal from the vacuum hose sent a small static shock through my fingers as it was starting to slide from my grip. It shook me out of my stupor, and I didn’t hesitate to spring into action. I swung the vacuum hose with all my might towards the man’s head. He reacted quickly and stepped backwards. Instead of hitting him in the side of the head like I intended, it collided with the side of his nose. His nose was mangled and blood immediately poured from his face. The man was already creepy, but now appeared nightmarish with the gore on his face.

Realizing this might be my only opportunity, I raced towards the front door. The cats were everywhere and extremely agitated now. Several of them jumped onto my back, biting and clawing at me. It felt like I was in a ball pit of teeth and claws. I threw the front door open, but the intenseness and suddenness of sunlight caused my hand to instinctively cover my face. In my moment of blindness, I tripped over one of the man’s cats and fell onto the front porch just a few feet from the steps. The cats that were still clinging to me scattered when I hit the ground.

Using my hands, I desperately clawed myself forwards towards the steps. Once I was close enough, I hurled my body down the steps. I tumbled down the steps violently, but the pain was worth getting further away from that house. I had deep bites and scratches covering my body. I could feel blood running from somewhere on my neck as what felt like millions of wounds pulsed in pain. Just then, a jogger spotted me, and ran to my side.

The relief of seeing another person washed over me, and I finally took a moment to acknowledge the fact that I had made it out of that house. My head filled with pictures of Sarah and the kids, and I could already taste the ocean air and feel the sand between my toes. New appreciation for life was already growing inside of me.

“Hey! Are you alright?”, the jogger asked. This shook me from my daydream. I started to explain that she needed to call the police and what had happened. She nodded, oddly casually I thought, and pulled out her phone.

Her phone case was pink and bedazzled. It looked homemade and my hope sank like an anchor as I read what was written on it. It had the words “Life’s Better with a Cat” sprawled across the back.

I only caught part of her phone conversation. She said sternly, “You have got to be more careful. If I hadn’t been out jogging, then who knows what would’ve happened. You need to get out here and clean this up immediately.” She hung up the phone and looked down at me. There was no sympathy in her eyes, only annoyance. The front door swung open, and the man walked down the stairs towards us.

I gathered what little strength I had left and tried to stand up, but the woman and man grabbed the collar of my shirt and started dragging me back towards the house. I hadn’t realized how much blood I had lost until they pulled me away from the spot I had been laying in. The deep red pools mixed with the grass reminded me of red ornaments on a Christmas tree.

As the man thanked the woman for her help and continued to pull me back into the house, I heard her shout out, “I assume that I will get first pick on this batch?”

The man smiled widely and replied, “Oh, absolutely. Give me just a few hours and I’ll have a fresh new batch for Tiger and Oliver.” With that, the man shut the door and dragged me back into the kitchen.