This is not from Jimmy Walker

(House of Greuse)
Jimmy took three stumbling steps backward, and slipped a little on the wet floor, he reached out his left hand and braced himself on the banister, he fumbled the gun in his right before dropping it clumsily onto the floor. The gun landed with a sticky thud, and he vomited into his hands. He wiped his hands on his jeans and staggered backwards along the landing. His chest heaved as he noticed three dead bodies, one propped against the wall, with a hole in his face where the left eye should have been, and two bullet holes in the chest. The blood ran down his body and pooled in between his legs and around his thighs. Blood had trickled out of the vacant hole in his face and dried, which gave jimmy the impression of cried tears; the empty eye socket seemed to stare, more so than the intact eye, as if the ghost of the eye remained and was insistent on its own presence. How the absence of something could seem to watch jimmy, he wasn’t sure but it was extremely disconcerting. The other two bodies were female, one who appeared to be in her early forties and the other whose age was hard to determine, with the back of her head completely blown away, the first woman sat slumped in an armchair, she looked quite peaceful, the only sign of her demise was the occasional droplet of blood that was beginning to form a vast pool below her.
Jimmy’s mind was racing he wasn’t sure where he was. He was frantically searching his mind for answers, especially the question of the three dead bodies in front of him and how he had acquired a gun. There seemed to be a period of time that he could not account for. He looked at his watch, shocked to see 7:37 flashing in big blue digital numbers. He seemed to remember an appointment, for one o’clock, but he wasn’t sure if he’d made it or not. That left him with about 7 hours of unaccounted time, and the very big question of how he’d gotten into his current state. He turned around and walked briskly to the stairs, avoiding most of the blood, but not all, he made it down the first three stairs when a thought struck him, he’d left the gun on the landing above him, but what if he might need it? He had no idea how those people had died, but whoever had done it might be close by. He turned his head and peered back up the stairs, he’d only gone down a couple steps but already he felt miles away from the top. He could see the tip of a stiletto heel sticking out of the banisters, and he could still remember the body that the heel was attached to, the image made him shudder and he almost vomited once again.
The thought of climbing back up the stairs filled jimmy with a complete sense of dread, but he resigned himself to attempt it anyways, besides, the thought of moving on without a weapon terrified him even more. He put his right hand on the banister and brought his foot up to the next step, it landed with a squelch, and to jimmy’s horror he realized that he was sliding. He tightened his grip on the banister, but his hand was too sweaty and it slipped, he let forth a scream as he fell backwards, smacking his head hard against the wall, sending stars fluttering across his field of vision. His back hit a step, sending tremendous pain shooting up his spine, he began to roll, his own body tumbling over itself and his arms and legs all tangled in on themselves as he bounded down the stairs.
He landed heavily on his chest, and all the air seemed to be forced out of him, he wriggled around attempting to reclaim some of his air. He succeeded after an agonizing thirty seconds or so of breathlessness; gasping and shuddering he pushed himself onto his knees and wiped the blood of his mouth with the back of his hand and stood up. The room he was now in was dimly lit; it was also completely empty except for a lone figure who sat in the center of the room, bound to a wooden chair. The figures head was slumped down, and a few strands of hair that belonged to an almost bald scalp swung back and forth in front of his chest. The body was almost entirely naked except for a small piece of cloth that hung around his crotch, which might have been part of some sort of clothing at one time or another but now just resembled a tattered dish towel. Jimmy stood where he was for quite some time, transfixed by the figure, whose arms it looked, were bound so tightly that the ropes had turned a tinge of red. Jimmy could see patches of his arms where the skin had been rubbed raw from trying to struggle out of the ropes, and instead of escape they had bitten deeper into his skin.
There were two doors situated behind the figure on either side of him. The door on the left looked like an ordinary hotel room door, complete with peep hole and a do not disturb sign that was still swinging as if the door had recently been shut. It was a beige color and there was a scratch mark going all the way from the top left corner in a long downward sweeping arc towards the door handle. The other door was a red fading to brown oak looking door, and the paint was bubbling and cracking in places, as well as big chunks had peeled of leaving giant gaps of bare wood surface beneath it.
Jimmy took a tentative step forward, and his shoe made a light thud on the tile floor, and at the sound the figure raised its head. All of a sudden jimmy was staring into a face that made him scream inwardly, deep sunken eyes, and the hair that had been hanging freely now clung to its face in clumps, the skin was stretched around the frame of the face, giving him deep hollow cheeks and a massive forehead that was accentuated even more by the bald head. He didn’t appear to see jimmy at first, his gaze flittered around the room, taking it all in as if it was the first time that he’d ever seen it, his wandering stare finally stopped on Jimmy. His lips pulled back on his gums revealing barely any teeth, it was an attempt at a smile, jimmy was sure, but he only managed to accomplish between a sneer and a grimace that caused the hair on the back of jimmy’s neck to stand on end. He saw jimmy’s disgust, and laughed, it was a quiet chortling sound, and raspy through lack of use.
The figure licked his lips and started to speak and Jimmy had to strain to hear him. “Welcome to the house of Greuse, I hope your stay is a pleasant one.” And with that said he smiled once more his terrible grin, and dropped his head back into its former position.
Jimmy wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do now, he turned around to see if he could go back up the way he came, but instead of the stairs that he had fallen down, there was just white wall blocking his way.
There was a faint click behind him, he spun around bewildered, and saw a TV screen that had appeared like a blemish in the white wall. At first there was just a black and white grainy picture coupled with a hissing, static noise that originated from unknown speakers, and then the picture flickered and settled on an image. The image was of the two women that Jimmy had seen on the landing, except instead of the lifeless corpses that jimmy had encountered they were very much alive. The camera was angled from above down the hallway, so that Jimmy was staring directly at the back of one of the woman. Under her right arm she carried a book and with the other arm she was gesturing in an exasperated manner, it appeared to jimmy anyways, towards the other woman. They were standing a short distance from an open doorway, and the women that was almost completely out of sight of Jimmy suddenly pointed very excitedly inside the open room, into which Jimmy could not see, but he was sure that she was pointing at the man that had lost his eye. He watched for a few more seconds as they continued to talk excitedly, and then with an increasing sense of dread as he watched, a door under the camera suddenly burst open, and bits of splintered wood went flying down the hallway. Both women jumped back in surprise, and jimmy watched as a familiar head swam into focus at the bottom of the screen. An arm flung out surprisingly quickly, and the back of the nearest women’s head exploded, bits of brain matter and blood flew everywhere, she dropped the book as she fell to her knees and then forward onto her face. The other women took two stumbling steps backward, hands clasped to her face masking a scream, she turned and tried to run but two bullets ripped through her back, sending her spinning. She fell hard onto the armchair, and after a weak attempt at trying to get back up, only succeeded in turning herself around in the chair to face her assailant, she gave one last feeble attempt at raising her arm and then slumped down even further in the chair, all the fight having left her.
Jimmy had been watching all of this with a kind of stupid slack jaw amazement, he started to taste salt on his lips and realized vaguely that he was crying, but he didn’t care, his hands were balled into fists and they were continually clenching and unclenching. He could not take looking at the screen any longer, he knew instinctively what was going to come next, but could not bare the thought of seeing it acted out. He took one last look at the screen and saw a familiar face smiling up at the camera, Jimmy could feel the fury bubbling up inside of him, but he suppressed his anger like he had done so many other times before. He put his hands to his face, dropped to his knees, and started to sob. He pressed his head against the wall, it was terrifically cold against his sweaty forehead, and it calmed him a little., he was muttering under his breath, and the only word that issued from his dry and cracked lips was the word “no” he continued this way until his fury seemed to subside a little, and became merely a dull ache.
His anger was replaced by a new emotion, fear. The face of the killer swam into focus in his mind, those cool blue eyes and that familiar half smirk that had looked back at him so many times over the years, which normally gave him such confidence, instead filled him with terror. There was no way that that person on the camera was him, he could never think of doing anything like that, and that evil face, which he had always thought was handsome in its own way instead smiled up at him, and all the features that he’d liked about himself transformed into some sort of twisted monster of a thing that was him, but wasn’t him.
His mind was racing. You don’t even know them, why would you kill someone you’ve never even seen before, and then not even remember doing it?
“I wouldn’t” he said out loud, it came out as a whisper but it reassured him none the less.
He let out a sigh and rose to his feet, it suddenly struck him that he was exhausted, and his entire body was extremely sore. He remembered his brief and painful trip down the stairs and was surprised to find that he was happy that the stairs had disappeared, where it had gone and how it had gotten there was something that Jimmy did not care to think about, and the absence of the stairs made him feel as though that landing was in another place, in another reality, that hadn’t happened, or had happened, but not to him. It was like accidentally recalling a memory that one did not care to think about, but which luckily all the fine details were fading into nothing, and the images that resurfaced in his mind every so often were beginning to take on a dream like quality.
He wasn’t completely alone in this room as he recalled, and he turned around to find that the creature (he called it the creature, because he dared not call it anything else) was staring intently at him.
“I suppose” he said “that you have some questions for me” It came out as barely a whisper, and Jimmy had to strain to hear him. “We shall have ourselves a long palaver, so come closer and sit” the figure commanded in his raspy voice.
Jimmy hesitated for a moment then went closer and sat down Indian fashion two feet or so in front of the figure. “Palaver, I do not know that term” He said.
The figure smiled “Ah, starting of with the easy questions are we?” He chuckled as he spoke, and broke into a fit of wheezy coughs, that made his whole body spasm from the strain. He turned his head to the side, and made a gurgling hacking noise deep in his throat and then spat a good deal of saliva onto the floor next to him. He refocused his attention back on Jimmy, and began talking again “You needn’t worry about what it means, we shall hold ourselves a little deliberation” he closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. “What do you think of this place?” he looked around the room lovingly, as if it was his baby, “built it myself, a long, long time ago” his expression went somber, he closed his eyes once again and was silent for a few minutes.
When at last the figure reopened his eyes, Jimmy was suddenly struck by the great sadness that sat behind them; the sadness behind those dark pools was amplified even more by the sheer beauty of the eyes, which contrasted so much with the terrible pain that they seemed to contain, and struggled like a dark curtain to hold back.
Jimmy reached out his hand, as if to caress the figure’s face, but then thought better of it and withdrew. “Before we continue, it would be easier if I knew your name.” said jimmy.
“I had many names once; I have many names still, but you may just call me Greuse.” He answered
“Greuse, why is it that you appear to be a prisoner in your own house?” Asked Jimmy
“It matters not, everyone’s a prisoner in some form or another, and mine is much more comfortable and homely than most, I think.” He spoke delicately as if trying to make sure that his words were easily discernable.
“Comfortable? Homely? You’re tied to a chair, in your own house, how can you possibly describe it as being comfortable and homely? Jimmy’s voice had risen only a fraction, but his words echoed around the small room.
Greuse ignored him; instead he said “did you watch the video? The critics gave it a C minus but I think it’s a B plus, its fantastic work, I have to say, a little sloppy, but that’s to be expected from a beginner.” As he said this, a faint smile flickered at the corners of his lips then disappeared when the first punch hit him square in the mouth, and the second hit him right in the temple, the chair wobbled but didn’t fall.
Jimmy stood over Greuse, one hand on the back of the chair to stop it form falling, and the other hand cocked above and behind him, he drove all of his force into the third punch and it landed with a satisfying thud into Greuse’s cheekbone. He straightened back up and realized that he was panting heavily; he sat back down in order to analyze the damage that he had caused to his friend and realized sadly that the damage was minimal, the only result being the change in his demeanor.
“Are you quite done?”
Jimmy sighed “I think so”
“very well then, I think that our palaver has about come to an end, I dare say quite a bit earlier than normal but I guess it’s different every time.” He saw the puzzlement on Jimmy’s face and laughed. “Don’t worry” he says “you will understand in time.”
Greuse stared intently at Jimmy for a few seconds then nodded his head over towards the screen behind him. “Do you believe that that was you? Do you believe yourself capable of those things?
Jimmy craned his neck backwards to look at the screen, which had been surreptitiously playing the video on a continuous loop for the entire conversation. He hesitated for only a moment and then answered.
Greuse listened to his answer and then motioned with his head towards the doors behind him. “One of those doors will lead you back home.”
“And the other one?”
Greuse averted jimmy’s gaze “if you don’t think you killed those people, then go through the door on the right, otherwise pick the door on the left.” He says
Jimmy walked carefully towards Greuse, each footfall leaving a dull thud that echoed around the small room, he put his hand onto Greuse’s forehead and pushed backwards, so that he was staring straight down into those eyes. They were blue and green and gray and beautiful and terrible. He could hear a violin somewhere off in the distance, it sounded quite beautiful, he was sure it was behind one of the doors, it had been playing the hole time, he wanted it to stop. He let go of Greuse's forehead so that his head sank forward, he walked around him carefully once again listening to his footfalls as he approached the doors.
Jimmy stood in the center of the doors and eyed each one carefully, regarding each with an air of suspicion and curiosity, mingled with terror that was sitting somewhere in the back of his mind. He heard a small wheezy cough from behind him and listened to the last words that Greuse ever spoke to him.
“You should be careful young man, time will creep up on you” there was a loud sigh from Greuse, “that is the nature of this place.”
Those were his last spoken words, and they bounced around inside Jimmy’s skull. He didn’t press for more, it sounded very final to him, and instead he walked towards the door on the left, and traced the arc with his finger a few times. He closed his eyes and grasped the door handle, it was cold and metal in his hand, he ran his fingers along its surface and then opened the door. The door was a lot easier to open than he had anticipated.
Bright white light embraced him, and he raised his arm to shield his face and took a step forward through the door, he lowered his arm as the light was fading and could see someone outlined in the light. He blinked his eyes a few times and the outline became less blurry.
Jimmy felt like screaming, he tried to retreat, but wasn’t able to control himself.
What jimmy saw, was himself, he wanted to retreat but an invisible force seemed to pull him forward, he realized what was happening and wanted to cry, but was unable to.
He saw himself, or a different self, one that had aged 30 years or more, all lines and wrinkles around a face that was so familiar to him.
Jimmy also remembered how this went, he saw himself slip and fumble the gun; He paused for a second, something had slipped out the back of his mind, something important, but he couldn’t remember it. He realized that he needed to vomit, his previous thoughts completely forgotten, he braced himself on the banister, and vomited into his hands. He looked down at his watch and it read 7:37 in big blue digital numbers. Somewhere in the background he heard someone laugh, it was very faint, and familiar, but he couldn’t place it.
There was about 7 hours of unaccounted time, but what felt like centuries behind and ahead of him.