Answers Where Blank Spaces Lie

"Uhhh... how did you know?" I stammered out.

"Building is my responsibility. I listen. You though... you are a nosy, nosy child." He responded quickly, grabbing me and pulling me into his apartment. As shocked as I was, I had no business fighting back against Igor. His hair was grey, but his muscles were stone. I could smell liquor on his breath as he shut the door and pushed me against the wall. "Is someone asking questions? Franklin?"

"No, I mean. Me. I'm asking questions. What is going on? Why are you so secretive about the building?"

He scanned me over and started patting me down. He was looking for something. "Any listening devices?" He grumbled. "Does your mom know you are asking questions? Is someone paying you?" He finished feeling me up with his meat fingers, satisfied with his search and stared me in the eyes. "Huh? Speak!"

I had considered Igor a disgruntled but kind man. Now I worried that Igor might actually hurt me. I spoke in a blur, "No, I'm just curious. I hadn't really noticed how weird this building is, but now I can't stop seeing things and I want to know what is going on... Also, is my mom part of this?"

After a good long stare down. He smacked my face politely and grinned. "Silly boy. You should talk to your mom. I don't have the answers you want. I have many questions myself, but I don't need answers like you do. Maybe you don't either." He tromped in and slumped down on folding chair with a small metal table and a CRTV facing him. He looked relaxed as one could be. Maybe his body was metal too. Another metal chair was next to him, plus Vodka and glasses. "I am happy. Are you happy? Maybe you take the happy and you stop asking questions." He turned on the TV and started watching a re-run of Friends. It seemed he considered the conversation done. He offered me a full shot glass and I waved it away. If I did need to confront my mom, I didn't want to with vodka on my breath.

I sat down next to him and felt the rough surface of the chair as I gripped its edge. It was recently painted. In fact, all of the items were recently painted. Igor didn't hide it either. There were two paint buckets, paint dripping down their sides placed along the wall. One was for the wall and the other for the furniture. The walls were bare. "Are you remodeling?" I asked.

"No, I paint the walls every once and a while. It's what I do."

"And the furniture?"

"That too."

"Why?"

"These are the questions I am talking about. You want answer. Look at the cover on my bed."

"Okay..." I respond cautiously, half expecting a dead body or something as I walk into his bedroom and turn on the light. On his bed, the pattern of the fur that you would normally get from rubbing your hand across a long haired blanket had formed into a portrait of an orgy, men and women fucking in all directions; asses and tits and hardened cocks, spurting jizz. Pussies were gaping with cum flowing out. Naked buxom women choked on multiple cocks as they were filled to the brim. This was the just the fuzz. As I rubbed my hand along the fur, the image disappeared. Then I noticed the sheet on the pillow, it also depicted such licentious scenes. Different views and different genitals and different people, but an orgy of lust nonetheless, except it was the ink in the cover that had changed its color to form the picture.

Igor shouted in at me. "Give it long enough and the pictures always return. I don't bring clothes in here or god forbid my ID. Once was enough for that mistake."

"How?" I ask, dumfounded as I return.

"It's the building. This room does it. Each apartment has its kinks."

"...but why." I ask, shocked at Igor's disinterest.

"Again, my boy. I am happy. I give the building what it wants and I am happy."

"What it wants?"

"What you think?" He questioned me.

I pondered, but I knew the answer. "Sex."

He motioned. "Of course. Sex. Desire. Whatever you call it. A building like this..." He waved his hands more vigorously. "... lives on it."

"Anyways, those are all the answers you get from me boy. Talk to your mom. She will dissuade you from making a stir I am sure. You be you. Let the building be what it is. Das Vedanya. Leave me to my Friends." He motioned to both the TV and his ****.

Mental note: Igor is a crazy Russian, but no crazier than this apartment. As I stepped out of his apartment, shutting the door behind me, I pondered if I should actually talk to my mom, interrupt her date. Actually, maybe that would be a good thing... but I couldn't imagine walking in on baldy and my mom mid-snogging. Before I could decide to broach the detestable, I was instead greeted by a different sight.