The Creepertons' Return

The Creepertons have been keeping a relatively low profile. They were turning lights on for a while and were actually active during normal hours. They would smile and say hello--well, Mr. Creeperton would, Bitch Creeperton is still unfriendly. They were buying multiple gallons of cat litter--probably more often than is necessary, but hey, maybe they were finding good deals--and there was a noticeable and comforting cessation of Mr. Creeperton sitting in his automobile and staring at our windows. Even the loud banging and falling-bowling-ball sounds had ceased.

For a while.

Now, they're slowly resurfacing, obviously feeling as though they took a sufficient amount of time off so as to throw suspicious eyes off their trail(s).

It's been quite seasonable and lovely in this town over the past few weeks. Regardless of pleasant 70-80 degree temperatures, their apartment remains fully sealed from light and visitors and their thermostat continues to run. It's not hot enough to need A/C and it's definitely not cold enough to need one's heat. Every other apartment in the complex has their windows and sliding glass doors open to allow fresh air in and stank winter air out. Not the Creepertons. They don't want what I can only imagine is the stench of rotten flesh emanating from their home. With that and the fact that it has been consistently over 55 degrees, they've got their place locked up nice and tight. No sweltering 60 degrees for them!

There are also the occasional bumps and thumps upstairs, but that's to be expected in an apartment complex when you live below an occupied unit. No strangeness there. But at 12:30 a.m.? Above the bathroom? And then the master bedroom? Okay, a little weirder, but nothing too concerning, right?

Except it's not normal bumps and thumps. I mean, sure, you know what the sound of dropping the soap sounds like in the tub, but I haven't the foggiest idea why they're dropping 19-pound frozen turkeys on the floor of the bathroom by the sink. Normal everyday life sounds don't keep you awake in the wee hours of the new day or frighten you such that you lock your two deadbolts and ensure you know where your cats are (because, as we know, serial killers seem to have something against felines and other domesticated house pets).

No no, whoever they were "taking out for a cup of coffee" last night didn't go down in an agreeable fashion. There were a few bumps over here, a few thumps over there, and then one single loud thump.

That loud thump was then followed by repeated, rhythmic thumps in the same place for another 30 seconds or so. At quarter to one in the morning. Following the last of the beatings thumping, there was sound you couldn't miss. It sounded remarkably like dragging or rolling something large and/or heavy. They do have two cats, but they do not have two large jungle cats (like, say, pumas) who hunt smaller jungle cats (e.g. ocelots) in the master bedroom. They have two adorable, though largely unremarkable, regular ole tabby house cats. Those regular ole tabby house cats would not make such a sound.

Not many things WOULD make such a sound except that which it sounded exactly like. Twenty bucks says we hear the garbage disposal this evening and despite sunny skies and a beautiful 70-degree day here, the windows will be closed with the blinds drawn and the thermostat running to keep it a crisp and decomposition-preventing 55 degrees.