The Man with Long Arms

“I’m telling you man, there’s something wrong with that guy.”

Maurice did not want to hear this again today. He came over to Cameron’s apartment to do exactly one thing: nothing. Now he was being made to listen to this shit again.

“Cam, I don’t know what this guy did to you, but you should just drop it. He hasn’t even done anything to you.”

“Not yet.”

“Not yet he says. What do you think he’s even going to do?”

Cameron, of course, has no reply to that. It’s the same routine every damn time, Maurice notes bitterly. Maurice comes over. Cam bitches about his creepy looking neighbour. Maurice tells him to shut up about it and then they have a big fight because, of course, Cam never drops the issue. Not that their would even be an issue if the skinny prick would just chill out for once.

“What is even you fucking problem with this guy?” Maurice asks. “You’ve never explained to me the actual issue.”

”His arms are too long.” Maurice blinks slow for a bit. Cameron himself is staring right at him, and he has the grim look of someone telling you the date of your own death. “Ok?”

“No, Maurice, it’s not ok. The guys arms are too long and they keep growing everyday.”

“How can you tell?”

Can sputters, incredulous. “How could I fucking not? When he first moved in they were above his knees. The last time I saw them they were almost dragging on the ground.” Maurice is silent, letting the sound of Cameron’s incessant foot tapping fill that void until he felt good and ready to start up again.

“Have you been dropping acid, Cam?”

“HaVe YOu bEen drOpINg AcId Cam?” Maurice felt his jaw tighten at that bit, but he held his tongue as Cameron kept going. “No, haven’t been dropping acid. I haven’t touched that stuff since rehab, you know that. No shrooms either, before you ask. I know what I’ve seen, and what I’ve seen is a guy with arms longer than his fucking body.”

Maurice doesn’t respond again, running a hand through his beard like that’ll help rack his brain for an explanation. How old was this guy? Did he have a disease? Was he just at a bad angle when Cam last saw him? Looking at Cameron, face set hard and eyes glaring, Maurice pocketed that last one for never.

“Maybe he’s just one of those body mod freaks,” He finally says. “One of those guys with too much money and time, y’know? The kind of guy who gets plastic surgery for fun.”

“Or maybe he’s not human.” Cam interjects. “Now you’re getting ahead of yourself man,” Maurice counters. “I know there being some monster in this apartment would be a big deal, but just… come in man, is my idea not more reasonable?”

Silence again, thighs the foot tapping has stopped. Maurice looks around, trying to remove the tension of the discussion. Not much to see really; TV’s playing a Jays game, Dominos on the coffee table. Lights down low and the balcony door is open because it’s a warmer night and Cam wanted to save in heating.

“You’re right.” Cameron blurts the words out so fast that Maurice has to turn around just to be sure he wasn’t hearing things. “It probably is just some guy getting bone extensions or something. I even looked that up once after I saw him, can you believe they do that for people?” He lets out a wheezy chuckle, and the high pitch of it gets one out of Maurice as well. “Shit, man, I’d probably be freaking out to if I saw this shit you’re describing.” Maurice is still chuckling as he says this. “Yeah,” Cameron says. “But, like, I didn’t think…”

Maurice silences him by putting an arm around his shoulder. “Don’t think so much, Cam. Bad for you health.”

They look at each other for a long moment, but the moment is interrupted by something else. A noise. Maurice reaches for the remote to turn down the volume, wanting to hear it better, when the source fellas itself by wrapping around the larger man’s wrist.

A human hand.

Before he can even scream, Maurice is yanked out of his seat by the wrist. The room is just bright enough to see where the hand is dragging him too. He can see the open door to the balcony. He can also see the arm attached to the hand, retracting around the corner on his right, no body in sight.

Only then does Maurice start screaming. Halfway out onto the balcony, he feels another hand grabbing at his ankles, pulling hard but not slowing the hand. The screaming is twofold now, inarticulate and swimming in panic as the hand starts pulling Maurice up. Between it and Cameron, Maurice is not suspended above the balcony, high enough to clear the railing. With his free hand Maurice clamps down on the doorway, flexing his fingers until he starts feeling a sharp pain in them. It is fine. Anything is fine as long he doesn’t go over that balcony.

His eyes search frantically, trying to find something, anything, to save himself with as the tug of war continues. Eventually, his eyes settle to his right, where the long arm is coming from, and he sees the body now. He sees it swinging in the open air, it’s other arm extended for past what should be possible for a normal person, and it does look like a normal person.

Except for its arms.

When they lock eyes, the grip on his wrist is gone as fast as it arrived, and the next thing he know, Maurice is sprawled on top of Cameron, both groaning in pain. Maurice rolls onto his back just in time to see the long armed man ascend the building with one arm. Retracting until they are no longer in sight.

The two men unknot themselves from each other and scramble inside, shutting the balcony doors behind them with a quick slam. The police would come due to a noise complaint, and the story they were told as not the story you have been told. After all, how could anyone believe that without seeing it?