“Bang! Bang! Bang!” by Cee Martinez

by E.V. Jacob on October 22, 2013

Next up is the lovely and twisted Cee Martinez, with a story about how scary doorbells are!  Follow Cee on Twitter at @DazedPuckBunny!


Whiskey and sex dropped a veil, replacing the membrane coating Alice’s brain and erased common sense notions about using protection during sex, hydrating when drinking a lot of whiskey, and not sleeping with married men who insist the marriage is over. When the heat from the romp dissipated and Alice was left nursing a sober broken heart and a hangover, Thomas gave her a carefully worded apology for inviting her into his flat, and offering the affair, before realizing his duty to his wife.

“But I am still here another two weeks,” Alice pointed out.

“Aye,” Thomas replied, “I’ll not be throwing you out.”

The bathroom tiles were loose at corners, the toilet seat broken, and a bath with a loose shower head ran on electricity. Whenever Alice took a shower, she noticed a thumping sound, as if someone were banging their open palm against the wall.

“Is it water pipes?” Alice asked.

Thomas shook his head, “I’ve listened to the walls since you’ve brought it up, and I’ve not heard anything.”

Alice’s chest ached as she looked at Thomas and she thought of the tinny sound of his wife’s voice clattering from his mobile, and the finger he lifted to shush Alice when he called her.

So she looked at the floor and jumped back, “Ew, a worm!”

“Aye! A grub!” Thomas said and he leaned over the wriggling creature on the fake wood floor. “It must have come from the damp in the kitchen. Dinna worry, I won’t stand on it.”

Alice looked away from the grub and she thought about the bumblebee Thomas had verbally apologized to before crushing. When he’d met face with Alice’s expression of disapproval they both said nothing.

“She’s hit you, I don’t like the way she’s treated you,” Alice said, but she couldn’t stop the tears in her voice as she spoke to Thomas. “Why do you go back to her?”

“I love you in a different way,” Thomas said, and he held her hand and hugged her before leaving the flat and locking it.

The building was Victorian, and one needed a key just to leave the flat when it was locked. Alice stood at the door and ran her hands over the gaping keyhole, peered through it to see the pigeon nested in the close and wondered how Thomas felt about having a marriage on the mend and a lover locked in his flat like a doll in a cabinet. It didn’t matter what she believed about his marriage, she was still the mistress if only for a week and she pressed her forehead into the door and muttered to herself, “Whore.”

The leaking washing machine in the kitchen grumbled and hummed.

An alarm blared, and she ran to the source: an antique clock of Thomas’s that she thought was broken—and had certainly never heard ticking. The brass bell on its head clanged and when she silenced it she set it down and gazed out the window to the street below, to the orange and gold trees. Scottish accents carried through the breeze up to her and she watched a teenage couple snarl at each other with such venom she knew could only confirm they were still madly in love.


Alice nearly fell through the open window at the sound. It would be the rotting washing machine, she knew, and when she went to the kitchen, her eyes widened to see that the washing machine had jumped loose from its spot and was lodged into the narrow doorway.

“Ferfuksake!” Alice hissed, in an approximation of how Thomas would say it.

She texted him about the machine but he didn’t reply and it only made her think about him fucking his wife doggie style over scattered take-out cartons so she tossed her phone on the bed and took a nap until the light became sunset and shadows.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt! Bzzz! Bzz!

Alice rolled awake and frowned. Thomas had said never to answer the buzzer in case it was his wife but since he was with her, did that mean….?

“Aye! Let me up!” the voice on the intercom said when Alice answered.

“Who is it?”

“Here tae see Ronny! He’s ma mate in the building. Let me up!”

“No, sorry, I can’t let strangers up,” Alice said and she wondered if she sounded like a scared teen in a Hollywood movie.

“Just let me up ya coo!” The man snarled and Alice ran back to the bedroom and sat with her hands on her lap, frightened until she remembered the man could not get in unless she buzzed him in.

“OY!” His voice cut through the air, from the street through the open window, “Oy ya coo! I just wanna see ma mate and yeh willney let me see ma mate yeh American coo! Flat three stroke one I ken where yeh stay!”

Alice picked up the phone and tapped in a text to Thomas she didn’t send.

“He can’t get in unless I buzz him in…”


The bangs were at the flat door and Alice jumped to her feet and stood in the hallway staring at the door as it shook under the weight of someone’s fist.

“I can’t let you in!” She screamed.

The banging stopped.

Alice dashed into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her.


This time it was the bathroom door rattling and Alice fell back into the wall, sliding to the ground with her hands over her mouth.

“Go away!”

The banging intensified. The lock wouldn’t hold for very long.

There were more of those grubs on the floor and she watched one wriggle to her big toe to nibble at the calloused skin there. There were more at her heels as well; she could feel their little feet and mouths penetrating.

The banging at the door continued.

Alice hugged herself, “I’m a whore,” she whispered, “I’m a whore. I’m a whore.”

  • christiney

    Umm… can I just say.. what a freakin tease! I wanted more!! :(

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