Apartment 13

In apartment 13, behind a black door locked tight with a key are secrets that should be burned. Banging, drilling, and groaning can be heard every night at 11:30 pm. Quick shuffling footsteps can be heard across the floor.

It happened on a Thursday night at exactly 11:30 pm. I was watching TV when I heard a boom on the ceiling followed by muffled screaming. I tried to ignore it but with each minute that passed it stayed on my mind. I slid my slippers on and headed out the door. The dimly lit hallway was chilly, and the smell of garbage filled the air. No doubt Mr. Hill in apartment 11 had his garbage sitting outside his door again. I’ve talked to him twice now about that. I took the stairs right next to my door. The echoing of my footsteps made me uneasy like somebody else was walking right behind me. Somebody left a cigarette lit in the staircase window, the sign that said no smoking meant nothing I guess.

When I got to apartment 13, I stood at the black door anxiously. The key was sitting in it. The key was black and looked shiny, I touched it and instantly regretted it. It was sticky. I wiped my hand on my pajama pants.

“Gross”

I knocked on the door twice.

“Hello, is everything okay in there?”

I waited a few minutes but nobody responded. The noises continued. The sound of a drill was incredibly loud. I banged on the door a couple of times.

“You can’t drill at this hour!”

I grew impatient.

“I’m going to call the police!”

Immediately after the drilling stopped. People only listen when the police get involved. I decided to walk away but I heard a door open. I realized the door was now open. I took a peek inside, a foul smell was fuming in there. It was so bad I didn’t want to walk in. I hesitated then walked in anyway. Holding my nose tightly I slowly walked around the apartment. No one seemed around, which was weird because then who opened the door? I heard a floorboard creak.

“Hello?”

I walked into the bedroom and saw nothing unusual. However, the smell was stronger here. I couldn’t pinpoint where it was coming from. The room only had a bed and a bookcase; which only had three books. I searched under the bed and in the bookcase; after five minutes I gave up. I was leaving the room when I tripped over another key. I picked it up and it was also sticky. I didn’t understand where it could go. Another door? Another apartment? The place was pretty much empty so I didn't understand the noise. It was like it all vanished. I decided to leave but on my way out I saw a handprint on the bathroom door. I pushed the door open to see a tub full of blood. No bones, no skin, no meat, just blood. I opened the closet door and saw a small meat grinder and realized where it all went. My eyes widened. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, I tripped over my own feet trying to leave. I stumbled on my way out. I grabbed onto the corner of the doorway and threw up in the hall. I wiped my mouth and took a deep breath. My first thought was to call the police but that changed once I felt a hand grab my shoulder. I screamed in terror. Another hand closed my mouth. I started to cry, I just knew I was going to die. The person turned me around and looked me in the eyes. He was covered in blood from head to toe. He took his blood-dripped finger and drew a cross on my head. He pulled me in close and didn’t break eye contact.

“You will be spared! The rest will burn!”

I couldn’t move or speak. I just stared at him while he was smiling at me. He let me go and slammed the door in my face. I ran back downstairs to my apartment and called the police. They didn’t come until the morning, I know because I didn’t sleep. I stayed up the entire time washing the blood off my face and packing. I couldn’t get that man’s face out of my head. Flashbacks hit me randomly until I heard two car honks from outside and I looked out the window. My mom was waiting for me. I grabbed my suitcase and bags and took the elevator down. Still thinking about what I saw. I walked out of the elevator past the police. I rushed into my mom’s arms like a child and hugged her tight. I don’t think she believed me, I don’t think anybody did.

A week later, I was in my room watching a documentary about an insane cultist. I figured that’s what that man was, a cultist. A knock and then my door opened, mom came into my room to tell me that my old building burned down and everyone died. They say the fire started in apartment 13. I could tell from how she looked at me that she now believed me.

“I’m glad you called me when you did, that could’ve been you.” Tears formed in her eyes.

She was right. Weirdly enough, so was that man. I was spared. That’s the story of what happened in apartment 13.