The Last Party. Short Story.

I hope everyone had a good weekend!

I went and saw Snow White and the Huntsman, it was good, though not as good as I expected, mostly because everyone I know who has seen it has gone on and on about how amazing the film is. The special effects were pretty damn good but there were a couple of scenes that seemed to come out of other movies. Also, I didn’t really like the ending. It was kinda odd and unsatisfying. Spoiler: They were all robots.

Other than that my weekend was pretty bland, I still have to watch True Blood, but I’ve two episodes to watch now so that’s something at least! I’m also catching up on Weeds, I need to find someone who watches it too so I can give out about Nancy and her decision making skills.

Anyway, on with the show!

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The Last Party. Short Story.

“What the hell is this?” “I don’t know. I really don’t.” The shock had worn off quickly, must faster than either of them expected. Neither could have anticipated what replaced it, a grim fascination.

It had been a long night filled with alcohol and drugs. They drank, but that was it, everyone else seemed to have no hesitations towards what they put into their bodies. They weren’t shocked, everyone knew what to expect when invited to one of these parties. Usually you drank to near blackout status, then you stumbled to an empty bed and crashed there for the night. And that’s what they did. Everything that was expected of them. The night was a blur of conversation and laughing, they may or may not have been in the pool, but one thing they were sure of, was that everything was normal when they went to bed. They stumbled through the maze-like structure of the house, opening doors at random, drunkenly apologising to any occupants they came across, skipping a few rooms that seemed previously used until finally, they found what they were looking for, empty room, clean bed. They stumbled in together, using each other as support and crawled on top of the mattress, both stripping down while lying on the bed, standing seeming like far too much effort. Once stripped to their underwear they crawled under the covers, nestled against each other and fell into a drunken slumber.

They woke the next morning feeling tired and generally off, but other than that no worse for wear. Before they had crawled off to bed, they had switched to water, as they usually did, and drank as much as possible. It always helped alleviate the worst of the hang over symptoms. All they needed was some food and they were good to go for the rest of the day. They took turns using the ensuite bathrooms, showers were considered, but then the idea was discarded. They could go home, pick up something on the way and shower there. As usual, they wished they brought a change of clothes while dressing in their clothes from last night. “Well, at least it isn’t covered in vomit. Did you see that guy last night?” “No?” “It was all down the front of him, I didn’t know one person could contain that much sick.” “I really didn’t need to know that.” “Yeah, but I needed to share the horror of it.” she shook her head slightly, “shit. Next time remind me to bring runners or something. There’s no way in hell I’m walking through this place barefoot.” she put on her heels then winced slightly as she stood. “What are we gonna say this time?” “Keep it simple. You know how hung-over she can be, besides, she’s probably still passed out somewhere. We check the kitchen, see if there is anyone there, if there is we grab something out of politeness then get out of here.” In a few hours the entire house would be filled with the sound of loud swing music, her way of getting everyone to leave, while cleaners mopped and vacuumed around those who were still passed out. It was always a good idea to make a swift exit in the mornings. They rarely stayed for breakfast, though the food was delicious, it was much less stressful to just go home and then spend the rest of the day lazing around the apartment. They linked hands as they stepped outside their room, mostly out of habit, they walked a few feet before stopping. “Is that blood?” “I think it is.” He stepped closer to the body of a man, the man was lying on his stomach, his face twisted to the side, around him was a large, dark stain. Carefully he knelt down, “Don’t touch him Ben.” “He’s hurt.” “What if it’s something contagious?” “I’ll be fine, hang one.” he reached out gently and touched the mans neck, he felt around for a few seconds, “He’s dead.” “How long?” “I don’t know.” Ben shifted the body slightly, “What are you doing?” “Trying to see how he died.” “Why? Let’s just find a phone or something” “Hang on.” the body was heavier than he expected, he lifted it, then let it fall back into place. “He was stabbed.” “Oh great. So now you’ve just fucked around with a murder victim.” “C’mon lets go.” he stood again and together they started to walk. “Do you know where there’s a phone in here?” he stopped, “No, do you?” “No.” they thought about it for a few seconds, but neither could remember ever seeing a phone in the house. “What if who ever killed him is still here?” “They probably ran. Would you stay with the body?” “No, but I’m not insane.” “Maybe we should check the rooms, find some other people?” they stopped outside a doorway, the door was slightly ajar, Ben pushed it open and looked into the room. He pulled his head back, his face white. “What is it?” “Don’t look.” “Just tell me what the hell it is.” “No, it’s fine c’mon lets just get the hell out of here.” Ben took a step away, she took a step forward, “Sandy, seriously, don’t.” she stuck her head past the door. A woman was hanging from the chandelier in the room, a bed sheet was tied around her neck. Sandy recoiled in horror. “I told you not to look.” “You could have told me what the fuck was in there you asshole.” “I didn’t want you to know.” she was shaking slightly, “Lets go. Now.” they walked through the halls, trying to find someone, but only coming across more and more bodies, every single body had one thing in common, their faces screwed up in laughter and joy. “what the hell is going on?” “I don’t know, I really don’t.” “They look like they all killed themselves.” They paused at a large doorway, the doors were closed. “Do we want to go in there?” “I Think we have to get out.” “Can’t we find another exit or something.” “This way is the fastest. Everyone clears out of here when the party is winding down, you know that. This place will be empty.” they stepped through the doors. The room wasn’t empty.

Someone sat in every seat, slumped over, faces resting on plates, on cutlery. Bodies littered the floor, a few looked as though they simply collapsed, others appeared to be fighting, even in death. There was a smell in the air, low and  rank. Sandy looked around the room, unable to look away. “Were…were they posed like that?” “I don’t know.” they linked hands again and began to traverse the sea of the dead. They moved slowly, carefully, making sure they didn’t step on any of the bodies or stumble on any of the debris that littered the floor. “What do you think happened?” “I don’t know. Poison, drugs, it could have been anything.” They reached the other side of the hall and quickly slipped through the door.  On the other side they breathed deeply, trying to keep themselves together. “We’re almost out, just a little further and we’re free.” “What do we do?” “What do you mean?” “Do we call the police, do we just run? What?” “We call the police.” “But what if they think we did it? We’re the only survivors, everyone else is dead.” “You don’t know that, there could be others.” “Even if there is, it’s suspicious. They’ll blame us, they’ll want to know why we didn’t die.” “They’ll figure out what happened here. We’ll be safe, I promise you.” she looked at him doubtfully. “We can figure it out once we get out of here.” they started walking again, the layout of the house seemed to change and shift between parties. “Can’t she keep anything in the same goddamned place. Do you remember where the exit is?” “I think it was this way.”

Finally they reached the front doors and stepped through, the large space seemed freeing. The sun shone weakly down on them and a cool breeze helped sooth them. “We’re out, thank god.” he started walking down the steps, Sandy stayed where she was, frozen. “Ben?” “Yeah?” “What’s that over there?” he looked to where she pointed, he looked all around the garden. It was littered with lumps of clothing. It was littered with bodies. “Oh god.” She walked down the steps, “Ben, what if it wasn’t just in there, what if it was everywhere? Everyone?” they looked at the gates, access to the world outside. Their hands intertwined once more they began to walk.

About Alan James Keogh

My name is Alan James Keogh and I am a 22 year old writer with dyslexia. I am doing a Masters in Creative Writing in U.C.D (University College Dublin). I also write a blog in which I post new short stories every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, that's right, three new short stories a week, every week. They can be viewed at https://AlanJamesKeogh.wordpress.com I did consider writing this in the third person, as though it was written by someone else, but Alan is not comfortable writing in the third person as it seems kinda creepy and unbalanced so Alan decided it was probably best to write in the first person. He hopes it went well for him.
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