Pit of Misery

Foreword:

This story was written on a special request of one of my long term supporters and thus is quite tailor-made to his fetishes. If you enjoy my stories and wish to drop in and say Hello, join my discord: https://discord.gg/SXZQjsuwpA.

The day dragged on for Allen much like every other in recent memory. He sat slouched on his worn-out couch, surrounded by the remnants of what could loosely be called a home. Empty pizza boxes, crumpled fast-food wrappers, and bottles—so many bottles—were strewn across the small apartment like a battlefield of neglect. The faint, sour smell of sweat and decay lingered, but Allen had grown used to it. What was the point of cleaning when no one gave a damn about him anyway?

The sharp knock at the door however, jolted him from his haze.

“Hey! Are you there?” a voice rang out. It was Sakshi.

Allen winced, the irritation boiling in his chest. Sakshi Sharma, the younger of the two sisters who lived next door, had a voice that could pierce steel. She always sounded cheery, but there was a patronizing edge to her tone that grated on Allen’s nerves.

“Your place stinks, you fucking pig!” Sakshi’s voice came again, followed by a muffled laugh. “Seriously, what are you even doing in there? Baking a shit cake?”

Allen clenched his jaw and stared at the ceiling, willing himself not to reply.

“Don’t bother,” a second voice chimed in, smoother, older, and laced with disdain. Kavya. “He probably doesn’t even realize how bad it is. This whole hallway reeks because of him. Honestly, they should evict him pretty soon.”

Their laughter echoed through the paper-thin walls, followed by the click of heels as Kavya walked off. The sound was unmistakable—it was her signature announcement that she was heading to work, likely in another designer outfit that cost more than Allen’s monthly rent.

Allen peeled himself off the couch and shuffled to the window. Kavya was easy to spot, strutting confidently toward her car in a tight gray pencil skirt that hugged her curvaceous figure, her black heels clicking rhythmically against the pavement. Her long black hair wound up in a sleek bun shimmered in the sunlight, and even from this distance, Allen could see her sharp, almond-shaped eyes behind her stylish sunglasses. She was the picture of success, a woman who exuded control and power.

Sakshi, meanwhile, lingered outside their shared apartment door, phone in hand. She was dressed in casual workout leggings and an oversized hoodie, her wavy brown hair tied up in a loose ponytail. Compared to Kavya, she was less polished but no less attractive, with a petite nose and a playful glint in her deep brown eyes that always seemed to mock him.

Allen turned away from the window, anger bubbling under his skin. The audacity of those women! They had no idea what he was going through, no clue about the void his life had become since his wife had left. And yet they acted like queens, lording over him like he was some kind of lower life form.

As he stood there stewing, something caught his eye—a small package lying just outside his front door. He hadn’t heard anyone drop it off, but then again, he was barely aware of anything these days. Curiosity outweighed his frustration, and he opened the door to retrieve it.

The box was oddly ornate, black with gold filigree along the edges and a peculiar logo stamped in the center: Jester’s Imaginarium Inc. The words shimmered faintly, as if alive.

Allen frowned, turning it over in his hands. No return address, no indication of who might have sent it. He brought it inside and carefully peeled back the tape. Inside, nestled in a bed of black velvet, was a glass bottle. The liquid inside was a deep, swirling green, catching the light in mesmerizing ways. A folded note was tucked beneath it.

Unfolding the note, Allen read the message aloud:

“Congratulations, lucky recipient! You are now the proud owner of our exclusive ‘Null Perfume’. A single spritz is all it takes to melt away inhibitions and unlock the full potential of those around you. Use wisely, as the effects are irreversible. Yours truly, The Jester.”

Allen stared at the bottle, the anger from earlier mingling with something new—curiosity. Melt away inhibitions? Unlock full potential? He wasn’t sure whether to laugh or feel insulted.

But as the sound of Sakshi’s voice floated through the wall once more, his grip on the bottle tightened.

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Allen muttered under his breath.

With hesitant steps, Allen crossed the short distance to the door opposite his. Every nerve in his body screamed to turn back. What was he even doing? Barging into his neighbor’s apartment like some lunatic wasn’t exactly part of his usual repertoire. But then he remembered Sakshi’s mocking voice, that irritating laugh that had rung in his ears every now and then for God knows how long. The image of her condescending smile fueled him, and he tightened his grip on the strange bottle in his hand.

Before he could second-guess himself further, Allen knocked. Once. Twice. The sound echoed down the hallway, and his heart raced. A few seconds later, the door swung open, revealing Sakshi, still in her hoodie and leggings. Her wavy hair framed her face, loose strands falling across her slightly sweaty forehead. Her brown eyes widened at the sight of him.

“What do you want?” she asked sharply, her nose crinkling almost immediately. She waved her hand in front of her face. “Ugh, seriously, Allen? Do you even own deodorant? Or soap, for that matter?”

Allen **** a tight smile, gripping the bottle in his pocket so hard he thought it might shatter. “I came to talk,” he said, his voice low but steady.

Sakshi’s brows furrowed. “Talk? About what? You’re lucky management hasn’t thrown you out yet. If you think I’m going to—”

“An apology,” Allen interrupted, his eyes narrowing. “I think you owe me one.”

“Excuse me?” Sakshi’s voice rose, her tone dripping with disbelief. “You’re joking, right? You stink up the entire hallway, and I’m supposed to apologize? Get fucked.”

Allen stepped closer, his body half blocking the doorway. Sakshi didn’t step back, her chin lifting defiantly, but Allen could see the faint twitch in her jaw—a sign she wasn’t as confident as she seemed. “You don’t even know what I’m going through,” he said through clenched teeth. “Instead of laughing at me, maybe you could show some decency for once.”

Sakshi crossed her arms, her lips curling into a smirk. “Oh, poor Allen. Life’s so hard for you that you can’t even take out the trash? Boohoo.”

That was it. Allen had had enough. Without another word, he pulled the perfume bottle from his pocket, uncapped it, and sprayed its contents directly into her face. The green mist enveloped her before she could react, and Sakshi stumbled backward, coughing violently.

“What the hell?!” she gasped, rubbing at her face as she staggered into the apartment. “What did you just spray me with?” Her voice was hoarse, her usual confidence replaced with confusion.

Allen followed her inside, shutting the door behind him with a click. His heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his expression neutral. “Honestly? I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted, holding up the bottle. “It came with some…instructions.”