A New Year's Mistake

Special note: this is my 500th post on this blog. *throws confetti*

We might have to have a celebratory giveaway or something. More on that soon.

So, my buddy Liam (also known as Captain America) posted a Short Story Challenge for New Year's Eve. Specifically, he challenged the rest of the YAvengers to take part, so here is my short story.

Hope you like it ;)


I smiled to myself as the speakers around me blared, cheers from Times Square rattling the glassware on my end table. With a grunt, I switched the system off and stood from my couch. Funny part is, I could’ve easily watched out my window as the ball dropped down the street. People don’t realize it’s much more fun to watch on TV than it is in person.

At least my stupid downstairs neighbor was still out. I might be able to get to sleep before he came home and started blasting his music.

I took my glass into the kitchen and rinsed it out, then put the whiskey bottle in the fridge, taking one last swig for good measure. My brain went a little fuzzy for a moment, but it cleared as I shook my head. Good stuff. If I couldn’t have a kiss at midnight, at least I had my whiskey.

I switched off the kitchen light, letting the darkness surround me. City lights filtered around my blackout curtains. Noise from the crowds below were no more than a murmur from this high up. As I passed the bathroom I paused. I’d better brush my teeth after all that drinking. I might’ve had some pizza rolls too, but since I live alone, no one will ever know for sure.

Something thudded in the living room. I paused, listening, but heard nothing else. Must’ve been the upstairs neighbors.

Feeling the walls, I pushed the bathroom door open the rest of the way and searched for the light switch.


Nothing happened.

Click. Click click click.

Why I kept trying it expecting a different result, I dunno.

I went back to the hallway and tried the switch there. Nothing. Rolling my eyes, I reached into my pocket to call my building supervisor. No phone. Must’ve left it on the couch. The carpet muffled my footsteps as I went back toward the living room. As I rounded the corner, my knee slammed into something and I let out a shriek I’d be embarrassed to admit came out of my mouth. You know that pain where you stub your toe or bump your elbow and it shouldn’t hurt but damn it does? That is how my knee felt.

Before I could do more than writhe in pain, a heavy sack was thrown over my head and a weight pressed down on me. I thrashed and clutched at the air, trying to get a hold of whoever it was, but they could see, and I could not.

“I know who you are,” a man said.

“Dude! What are you – ”

He gripped my hair and slammed my head onto the floor. “You are the tenant of room six-hundred forty-two, are you not?”

“What?! No! This is seven-forty-two!”

“You – ” The man shifted his weight a couple times, then I felt him stand off me. The sack was removed, and I found myself looking up into the face of…

A pig-man. With tusks.

I dug my heels into the floor and backed away until I hit the wall.

“My apologies, sir,” he said, his voice completely changed. Now he sounded like Batman’s butler. “You see, we have an arrangement with the New York Police Department to remove criminals for them every year during this time, and I was assigned a certain individual in room six-hundred forty-two.”

I thought of the idiot who always played his music too loud, way too late into the night. Criminal activity? He seemed the type.

“Uhh… what are you?” I asked.

“We are called Werejavelina, sir,” he said. “Men who change into Javelinas during the full moon.”


“I apologize again for frightening you, sir, I’ll just be on my way.”

I tried to be cool. “Hey, no problem, man. Good luck.”

“Thank you, sir. And Happy New Year.”

He left, closing the door behind him. I rubbed my eyes. What had I even bumped my knee on? His head? Whatever.

I shuffled back to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, then kicked off my jeans and got into bed. I don’t remember falling asleep, but my eyes shot open when music started blaring from the apartment below me.

“Uuuugggghhhhh,” I groaned, putting a pillow over my ears.

Then I heard a thud. A muffled yell. A moment later, the music cut off, followed by silence.

I pressed my lips together. Hm… werejavelina, huh? I wonder if he’ll tell the cops I know about –

No. You know what? I should probably lay off the whiskey for a while.


Well. That was fun.


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