Kyle’s Bloody Monday

Some mondays are worse than others. Everyone knows there are certain things to expect from a job on a Monday morning (like angry emails from a boss or client.) Then there are things no one would ever expect on a Monday (like seeing someone attacked by a bloodthirsty monster.) Something like that can turn a bad Monday into a truly terrible one. And that is what Kyle learned on this particular October morning.

He skipped breakfast, and that was his first mistake. Because of that, the day already started off worse than it otherwise could have been. His second mistake was responding to the bizarre email he had received that morning.

Mr. Kyle,

I would like to hire you for your carpet cleaning services. Your business has great reviews online, and reasonable pricing. I am interested in shampoo and odor treatment for my carpets. I understand that you can also do upholstery and rug cleanings as well.

This is not a small job, as my house happens to be quite large. There are thirteen rooms which include the library, the billiards room, the nursery, the conservatory, the gallery. and all of the bedrooms.

The work would have to be done in the evening, as I am not available during daytime hours. My address is 666 Piccadilly Place.

Madam Madelyn

Knowing that an after hours job could be a substantially lucrative opportunity, he eagerly replied to Madam Madelyn without fully reading the details of her email. He accepted the job, and began loading his equipment into his work van, with the logo for “Kyle’s Cleaning Service” on the side.

***

That evening Kyle sat in the driver’s seat of his work van looking at the mansion home of Madam Madelyn. The house was bathed in moonlight, and almost seemed to glow. He peered through the iron rungs of the gate blocking his way. The trees on the property had shed most of their leaves, which now covered the lawn with an autumn orange color. The house itself was drab and ominous. The front porch and windows had a look that made it feel like the house was frowning at Kyle. Once he mustered the courage, he pressed the button on the intercom.

Without any response the wrought iron gate began to open inward. Its springs and hinges creaked as it moved. Kyle drove his van around the circular driveway. There was an old, stone fountain in the center of the courtyard, but no water flowed from it. The gate closed behind him.

Then Kyle climbed out of the van. He wore khakis and a red polo shirt. He fidgeted with his glasses before taking the first step onto the wooden porch.

Suddenly the heavy, front door swung open, and Madam Madelyn stood leaning on the doorframe. Her black dress flowed around her feet, but it was tight in the waist. Intricate white straps covered the bodice. Her black hair hung down around her pale face and neck, where she wore a black collar with an enormous red ruby brooch. She smiled at him with lips that were such a dark red that they almost looked black.

“Mr Kyle! I’m so glad you could come on such short notice! Welcome to my humble abode!” she said, eyeing him with a smirk.

“Yeah, I finished the other jobs for the day,” Kyle told her as he began unraveling the vacuum hose from his van. He continued to give her nervous glances as he prepared his shampooer.

She led him into the foyer, which had hardwood flooring and a dim chandelier hanging low. There were two upholstered chairs and a large mirror on the wall. Everything was dusty and stank slightly of mildew.

Kyle had seen a lot of strange houses in his line of work, and he learned not to ask too many questions about the client’s personal items or cleanliness. But this house was definitely more interesting than any he could remember. In fact, it was really rather unsettling.

While keeping a nervous eye on the wandering Madam Madelyn, Kyle began his work of shampooing the carpets. He made his way to the gallery where there was a very old, faded rug. He looked at the paintings of portraits on the walls. They were covered in cobwebs.

Then a thing caught his attention. At the end of the hall was an enormous steel plated door. Kyle studied the heavy padlock on the latch of the door. For a moment, he thought he heard a voice cry out for help from behind the door, and panic gripped him.

“Nothing!” said Madam Madelyn as she slid between Kyle and the steel door. “Nothing to clean in there! Carry on! Thank you!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he managed to whisper, trying not to let her see how much his hands were shaking.

“Come to the billiards room,” she said. “I hosted a dinner party, and I admit, it got a bit out of hand. My company spilled a glass of red wine on my Persian rug. I do hope that is something you can clean.”

“Oh yes, absolutely,” he assured her. “Wine is not a problem.” He hurried along to the billiards room.

She smiled at him while she continued to stand in front of the steel door. He smiled back until he noticed her canine teeth were unusually large.

“This can’t be happening!” he thought to himself. “This is so messed up!”

He entered the billiards room and turned the corner. Immediately he saw the stain on the floor, but something was not quite right. Red wine would look more purple after it dried, and this had a darker brown color. He hoped his suspicion was wrong, but he needed to know for sure. He pulled out his UV light from his bag, and aimed it at the area. The stain glowed bright.

“Oh no,” he gasped. With trembling hands he sprayed hydrogen peroxide on the stain. It began to foam up more than it normally would from a wine stain. And then there was that odd smell. It was a faint odor of death. This was blood.

“I’m sorry that is such a stubborn wine stain,” said Madam Madelyn as she suddenly appeared in the room, standing over Kyle as he knelt down close to the stained rug. He was not going to argue with her on why he knew it was blood.

“Oh, it’s not a problem!” he answered, hoping his voice would not give out on him.

“I truly appreciate you coming to do all this,” she said. “If you can get this stain out of my rug, I will pay you twice what you quoted me.”

“That’s very generous of you,” he answered, unsure how to respond.

“But you must promise me one thing,” she leaned down to his level with her face mere inches from his. He looked at her luscious, dark lips. “You cannot tell anyone what you have seen in this house. Is that understood?”

He simply nodded.

She reached out her hand to his face, and he wondered if this would be the moment. Was she about to kill him? Was she about to sink her deadly teeth into his neck and drain his life from him? He felt he was looking into the face of death as he gazed into her ageless eyes. He felt her fingers run through his hair. This Monday was turning out far stranger than he expected.

“Well then, it seems we have come to an agreement,” she said as she pulled an envelope out of her bodice, placing it on the billiard table. “In this envelope is your payment in full. You may take it when you finish. In the meantime, I have a particular matter to attend to.” She stood and walked out of the room.

After looking in the envelope and seeing the cash payment, he wondered if she really did not intend to kill him. He thought if he finished the work and left, then maybe this nightmare would end. He would go home, wake up Tuesday morning, and everything would be back to normal, he hoped.

***

Kyle had just loaded up the last of his equipment back into the van, and then stepped inside to say goodbye to Madam Medelyn, when a large grandfather clock began to chime. It echoed through the hallway into all the rooms. Eleven chimes. Almost midnight.

He did not see her, but something did catch his eye. The heavy steel plated door was open just an inch. The padlock was no longer on the latch.

Kyle began to think of all the possibilities. Was she in that room? Why did she tell him not to go in? Did he really hear a voice call for help from behind the door? What was really going on in this house? All rationality was telling him to leave, to get out and go home. He did the job, and he got paid. It was almost midnight, and he should go. But that awful feeling was keeping him here.

He watched as his hand reached out slowly to the steel door, and so very slowly pulled it a few more inches. A cold draft hit his face from the darkness in front of him. At his feet was the first step of a set of stairs going downwards into a basement. “Well, if this isn’t the plot of a horror movie,” he thought to himself.

Then the distinct voice of a man pierced the silence. “No! Get away!”

Never before had Kyle felt such a deep fear and dread, but he could not turn away. Perhaps it was some heroic courage. But more likely it was just stupidity that overtook him. He rushed down the staircase.

It was a scene of pure terror. Madam Madelyn stood in all her beauty, except that there was blood. Ruby red blood dripped from her dark lips. As her eyes met Kyle’s, her gory mouth grew into a menacing smile. Her white fangs stained red as she gave him that unholy grin. In her arms was the limp body of a man. His neck poured blood from two puncture wounds. His eyes were open but lifeless.

“Care to stay for dinner?” said Madam Madelyn, as she licked the blood from her lips.

Of all the mistakes he had made on this fateful Monday, coming down into this basement was the worst of all. With a great effort he turned around and ran up the stairs. His feet felt like bricks.

Behind him he could hear the swoosh of the fabric of her dress as she leaped after him. A horrible shriek filled his ears as she chased him out the door.

He fumbled for the key to his van, and somehow managed to turn the ignition. It started! He swung the van around the circle, and stopped at the black gate that stood in his way. It did not open.

Madelyn slammed her hands against the driver side window,  piercing the air with a terrifying scream. She pulled the door open, and took hold of Kyle. With inhuman strength, she dragged him out of the van and threw him to the ground.

“I will open the gate,” she said slowly. “I will open it on this one condition. You must sign this contract. You will return every six months to clean my house. You will clean any remains from my dinner parties. You will tell no one. And I will let you live.”

“You’re crazy!” he shouted.

“I could kill you here and now, if you prefer, but that would not benefit either of us. Now sign it!” she said holding a parchment paper.

She pricked his finger with a needle, and he saw the drop of red growing on his fingertip. He reached out and touched his finger to the parchment, leaving his bloody fingerprint on the paper.

“Wonderful!” she exclaimed. “I shall see you again in six months! Have a very good night!”

The gate opened, providing him his escape. “Could this Monday have gone any worse?” he wondered. He knew he should not have skipped breakfast. But tomorrow would be Tuesday, and everything would be back to normal for Kyle. At least, for the next six months.