The Cementry Apartment

. In a city where apartments swallowed bank accounts like sinkholes, that kind of deal was nearly supernatural in

efore the i

cted wound that refused to heal. The air smelled like iron and rain. The trees lining the sidewalk had more birds

y with a strange kind of relief. "Apartment 3B," he said without

lifted. "No o

e." Then he gave a half-smile tha

in that sa

-

was being eaten alive. The walls were painted a dull mustard color, and the smell w

dusty, sure, but livable. The floor tiles were cold under his feet, and the silence ins

narrow alley choked with vines. As he opened the window to let in some

m. Not of

black

e beyond the glass. But the glass itself didn't show

t. Locked i

-

g creaked above him. H

no other tenants on his floor. And no on

ing not to breathe too loudly. The sound came again. Not a rat. Not scuttl

, si

.. kn

nocks on his

7 a

fro

s didn't

wai

utes pas

t to the door, and peek

ng. N

ed back, something whi

ot supposed

e bolt closed

or. Leading in from the hallway. But the building di

barely

the whisper repeating in

ot supposed

o sweat. He checked the door again. The muddy footprints were still there.

icture with

en flash

corr

hen thre

gav

-

eneath him, but he forced himself forward. He needed to see someone. A livin

hallway

ding was

tunnel. On the ground floor, beside the rusted water tank, he finally saw a boy. Bare-chested, dusty, m

in relief. "Mo

didn't

hewing slowly like his mouth was on autopilot. Jam

u live

d once. Slowly

sen slightly. "Okay. I'm James. I ju

s chewin

ared

at, brittle v

artment ea

ed. "What d

rned and walked toward the back of the building, barefoot on broken tiles,

o

th

nce door and the dista

-

was just messing with him. Kids did that

s clung to him

artment ea

his unit, he notic

thbrush

used it.

- warm, like someone

Slightly moved. Not the

s front door.

ws - stil

omeone had b

hum of the refrigerator. But even that sounded wrong. Too loud. Too stea

. Told himself to calm down. Maybe he forgot he used the

he sa

er of his c

tched in a perfect line f

there. He didn'

eane

sn't

ry. Shriveled. C

witc

dry, red line stretc

it never had. Maybe his eyes

ached

ed to dust. Fine and gray, like burnt hair. A sudden wind blew throug

backed

ft. The windows

one again, this t

ser

rk bars.

the router l

ront door - slo

the air itself was resisting his steps. He descended the stairs two at a time

once, twice

th

away when the door cr

?" he

ans

pped i

-

n exposed wire. The walls were covered in yellowed newspaper clippings

es from Local Ap

ied in Locked Room

Linked to Seven Uns

as six months ago. And every article m

and-white, grainy, taken from

s fr

s taped directly benea

orps Member – N

es's age, standing in front of the exac

ame c

ame d

now, heart thudding like it was try

noticed the rad

playing

through - faint

ll... open... s

dio we

turned

anding in the doo

ssion

be in here," Jo

James stammer

That apartment isn't

"What does th

st him, picked up a small bell from th

sharp, metal

s under James'

sto

d to him an

never open your door

-

, James di

ack against the wall,

the table ticked sl

ce was un

ze. The screen glitched, flickered red, then wen

7 a

oc

oc

oc

d his

not

, the wo

r handl

viol

ow

nt

other side was testi

the darkness, tears

d - not opening

he'd bolte

see a hand retreating through

om the

gh th