by Amy Cross
“I just can't find her, that's all,” Megan replied. “It's probably nothing.”
“Hold on. If she's missing, that's not nothing.”
“Did you know her well?” Megan asked, before correcting herself: “I mean, do you know her well?”
“In a place like this?” He smiled, as if he was amused by the idea. “Marshall Heights isn't exactly a social club, you know. People pass each other in the halls now and again, they maybe nod at each other, but they don't really stop to chat. Your aunt seemed like a nice woman, one of the nicer ones round here, but that doesn't mean we ever really talked.” He paused again. “Well, you see how easy it is to let a place like Marshall Heights get to you? Here I am, defending the indefensible. I should've stopped and made a little conversation with her now and again, shouldn't I?”
“Do you have any idea when was the last time you saw her?” Megan asked.
“Maybe before Christmas. I'm sorry, I don't get out much these days. I get most of my shopping brought to me.”
“If you think of anything that might help,” she replied, “please let me know. I'll be in flat 801 for a few days while I look for her.”
“You're staying here overnight?”
“Just in case she comes back.”
“You...” He paused for a moment, seemingly a little concerned. “You know not to... be up at night, don't you?”
“You mean at 3am?”
“It's good advice,” he continued. “Just make sure you're tucked up in bed well before, and whatever you do, don't answer the door, not even if someone comes knocking. Even if someone comes screaming, don't answer, not at 3am.”
“Okay,” she replied cautiously, “now you have to tell me what's going on. You're the second person I've spoken to since I got here, and both times I've been warned about 3am. What's so special about it?”
He shook his head.
“It might be important,” she continued. “It might help me find my aunt.”
“I can't imagine your aunt was foolish enough to get caught out,” he said firmly. “I don't know exactly what happens around this place at 3am, and do you know why I don't know? 'Cause I've never poked my head out to see, and that's the same as everyone else round here. You look smart enough, so take my advice and don't go poking about. Please, just accept this piece of advice and trust that there's a good reason.” He glanced along the walkway, as if he was worried about being overheard. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back inside. I've got something on the stove.”
“Yes, but -”
Before she could finish, Megan found the door being pushed shut in her face. Sighing, she looked along at the next flat and realized that going door-to-door wasn't necessarily going to be the most pleasant experience. Still, she had no other ideas, and so far it truly seemed as if her aunt had simply vanished into thin air. Heading over to the next door, she was about to knock when she felt a wave of nausea pass through her body, along with a brief sense of extreme weakness. Grabbing the rail, she paused for a moment, worried that she might pass out, before the sensation faded.
Hearing a noise nearby, she looked along toward the stairwell. For a few seconds, she thought she could hear a child's voice shouting in the distance. Once the sound had faded, she told herself that it must have all been in her head.
Six
“Get out of there!” Beth shouted, pushing harder than ever on the door. “It's behind you!”
“What is?” Toby called back.
She saw him turning, and the other shape seemed to vanish from view.
“There's nothing there,” he said after a moment.
“You have to get the door open,” Beth told him, taking a step back. “Get out of the way, I'm going to try breaking it down.”
“Don't be an idiot,” he replied, “you're a girl. I'll ram if from the inside.”
“It opens in,” she pointed out. “Just get back!”
Hurrying over to the edge of the walkway, she turned back and prepared to run at the door.
“There's someone in here!” Toby shouted suddenly. “I can hear someone!”
“Are you out of the way?” she called back to him.
“Get me out of here!”
“I'm coming!” Running at the door, she turned her right shoulder and slammed into the wood with as much force as possible, but she succeeded only in crunching against the frame and then bounding back. She felt as if her whole body was vibrating from the force of the impact.
“Beth!” Toby shouted. “Help!”
“I'm coming,” she said breathlessly, going back across the walkway and then taking a deep breath, ready to try again. Running at the door for a second time, she had no more luck than before: thudding against the wood, she let out a gasp of pain.
“There's something in the front room!” Toby shouted, banging on the door from the inside.
“Break the glass!” Beth shouted.
“How?”
“Wait!” Hurrying along the walkway, she ran to the elevators and grabbed the fire extinguisher. As soon as she'd unbuckled the leather strap holding the cylinder to the wall, she pulled it out, but the weight was too much and she immediately dropped it against the concrete floor. Hauling the extinguisher back up, she began to half-carry and half-drag it back onto the walkway, taking it to flat 313 so she could use it to break the glass and -
Stopping suddenly, she saw that the door was hanging ajar.
“Toby!” she shouted, dropping the extinguisher and rushing over to look into the flat. “Toby, are you okay?”
She waited, but there was no reply.
“Toby!”
Silence.
After checking both ways along the walkway and realizing that there was no way he could have run away without her seeing him, she grabbed the extinguisher and pulled it closer, using it to prop the door open. Despite the fear that was gripping her chest, she took a couple of steps into the dusty, stale-smelling flat and looked around the hallway. With all the wallpaper having been torn away, the bare white walls were visible in all their moldy glory, while even the light fittings and plug sockets had been removed. Beneath her feet, one of the bare floorboards creaked as she took another step forward.
“Toby?” she hissed. “Say something!”
Peering into the kitchen, she saw that it was laid out exactly the same as the kitchen in her home, except that there were no cupboards and no table, nothing except space and a few wires poking out from the walls.
“Toby?”
She glanced into the bedroom, where of course there was no bed, before reaching the door that led into the front room. Leaning through, she spotted Toby standing at the window with his back to her, but instead of rushing to him she stopped and waited for him to say something.
“Toby?” she asked finally.
She waited, but he gave no indication that he'd even heard her.
“Toby?” she hissed. “What are you looking at? Let's get out of here!” She checked over her shoulder to make sure the fire extinguisher was still holding the door open, before turning back to Toby and then taking a step forward.
In the distance, a train could be heard making past the building and causing the window to rattle.
“Toby,” Beth continued, fighting the urge to turn and run, “what are you doing? It's scary in here. Please, I won't call you a chicken, but can we just go?”
Once the train had passed, silence returned.
“How did you get the door open?” she asked, stopping in the middle of the room. “Toby?”
“There are people out there,” he said quietly.
She stared at the back of his head.
“Where?” she asked.
“Something's wrong.”
“Toby, can we go now?” She looked back into the hallway again, worried that the fire extinguisher might somehow give way at any moment. “I don't like it in here.”
“He used to make her sit in the corner,” Toby replied, still staring out the window. “Sometimes h
e wouldn't let her wash, he wouldn't even let her go to the bathroom, he just... He made her sit there whenever he thought she'd been bad, and he thought she'd been bad a lot. He was so angry, and no matter how hard she tried to do what he wanted, she could never be good enough. He hit her and he dragged her across the floor, and she never knew anything else, and all the other people in this building...”
His voice trailed off for a moment.
“What?” Beth asked finally. “Toby, you sound weird.”
“They all live in their little flats,” he continued, slowly turning to her, “and they think that anything that happens in anyone else's flat is none of their business. Even if they hear something bad happening through the wall, they don't do anything about it. If someone screams in pain, don't you think other people should go and help?”
“Yes, but -”
“And if someone's being beaten, like really beaten hard, shouldn't someone knock on the door and ask if she needs anything?”
“Are you talking about the girl who lived here?”
“Her name was Jennifer.”
“How do you know that?”
“She told me.”
Beth stared at him for a moment. “She died a long time ago.”
“She told me just now.” He turned and looked across the room, as if he could see something in the empty corner. “She told me everything that happened to her. She even told me about the night she killed him.”
“There's no-one there,” Beth replied. As she stared at the corner, however, she began to feel something creeping through her mind, as if there was something just on the edge of her field of vision, struggling to break through. She couldn't see a girl there, but she had the strong sense that at any moment she might see a terrified girl with long black hair.
“She likes you,” Toby said.
Beth opened her mouth to reply, but fear froze her in place.
“Don't you want her to like you?” Toby asked. His gaze seemed to change, as if he was following a figure as it made its way from the corner and out of the room. “She wants us both to stay.”
“She's not real. She's -”
Hearing a sudden scraping sound, she looked back into the hallway and saw that the fire extinguisher was slowly being pushed across the floor, allowing the door to start inching shut.
“No!” she shouted, running through and grabbing the door, pulling it open before turning back to see that Toby was watching her. “We have to get out of here,” she shouted, close to tears as she felt something standing nearby. Looking around, she realized there was nothing to see, but she still felt a presence just inches from her skin. “Toby, now!”
“She wants us to keep her company,” he replied. “She's so lonely.”
Beth shook her head.
“We have to.”
“Toby, no -”
“We don't have any choice,” he continued. “She's going to -”
“Hey!” Michael said suddenly, stepping into view and reaching out to grab the door. “What the hell are you two doing in here?”
“We were just playing!” Beth said, startled as she stepped back out of the flat.
“How the hell did you even get this door open?” he asked, stepping inside and grabbing the fire extinguisher. Turning to Toby, he signaled for him to leave too. “Come on, out. This isn't a place for kids to play.”
“We have to stay,” Toby told him.
“No,” Michael replied with a sigh, “you really don't.” Letting the door swing shut for a moment, he hurried over and grabbed Toby by the arm before leading him back out. Once he'd pulled the door open, he guided Toby to the walkway and followed him, before checking the latch on the door and then letting it swing shut. After turning the handle a few times to make sure it was locked, he turned to them.
“Please don't tell my mum,” Beth said, her voice filled with fear.
“I won't this time,” he said, “but I know where you live, Elizabeth Bell, and I happen to be on speaking terms with your mother, so if this happens again -”
“It won't,” she said firmly, with tears in her eyes.
“And you?” he continued, turning to Toby. “How did you two get in there anyway?”
“The door was open,” Toby replied coldly.
“I'm pretty sure it wasn't,” Michael replied, “but... I'll get a new padlock on it today. In the meantime, I don't want you going into flats that aren't yours, is that understood? Even if the door was open, that doesn't give you the right to go inside.”
“We're sorry,” Beth told him, sniffing back tears. “We really won't do it ever again.”
“And don't play with these, either,” he said, holding up the fire extinguisher. “They're not toys. Now get out of here. Go on, I'm sure you can find better things to do.”
As Michael started checking on the lock, Beth and Toby turned and headed along the walkway. Glancing over at her friend, Beth couldn't help but notice something different in his eyes, as if there was a new sense of darkness. She was scared to ask what had happened, but she knew she couldn't just stay silent.
“Are you okay?” she asked eventually.
“I'm fine.”
“But are you really okay? You said something about -”
“I'm really okay,” he told her. “I was just messing around, that's all. You take things too seriously.” Stopping at the top of the stairs, he turned to her. “Don't tell anyone we went in there.”
“Why not?”
“Because they'd be mad. Don't tell anyone about the teeth in the basement, either. It's none of their business.” He stared at her for a moment with an intensity that seemed new, as if his experience in flat 313 had left a shadow in his eyes. “The barrier's getting weaker,” he continued, “but it's still weakest at three in the morning. That's still the best time for them to get through. She's scared that he might come soon.”
“Who?” Beth asked.
“Just promise you won't tell anyone,” he continued, taking a step toward her. “Promise me, Beth. It's important.”
“Okay,” she replied cautiously, “but... I'm sorry if you still think I'm a chicken.”
“You're not a chicken.”
“Maybe I am. Just a little bit.”
He shook his head.
“It's okay,” she continued, worried about the fact that he suddenly seemed so blank and uninterested. “You can call me a chicken if you want.”
“No. I don't want to play right now.”
“Are you sure? I don't mind, not really.”
She stopped and watched as he kept walking. Something had changed, and she was worried that the experience in flat 313 had somehow damaged Toby. Since he was her only friend, she felt that she had to do something to make sure he was okay.
“Hey!” she called out, running after him. “Wait up!”
Seven
Two stripes.
Two parallel stripes.
She checked the front of the packet again, even though she'd already checked it several times. Her mind was racing as she searched for possible explanations, for anything that might contradict what she was seeing.
“Oh God,” she said finally, setting the test kit in the sink.
Staring at herself in the mirror, she could see the fear in her own eyes, and she felt absolutely certain of one thing:
“I can't do this,” she whispered. “I'm not ready to be a mother. There's no way I can do this alone.” She took the crescent moon necklace in her hands and closed her eyes. “Why did you have to leave me like this?”
***
“You're insane,” Michael said as he stood in the kitchen a few hours later, sipping at a cup of tea. “Seriously, what do you expect to gain from staying up and then opening the front door at three in the morning?”
He waited for a reply, but Megan seemed lost in her own thoughts. Sitting at the breakfast bar, she was staring into space.
“Hello?” Michael continued, waving at her. “You awake in there?”
“Sorry,�
�� she muttered, forcing an unconvincing smile. “I've just got a lot on my mind.”
“No kidding.” He checked his watch. “It's almost midnight. There's still time to call this madness off.”
“You don't have to wait with me,” she told him. “I'm fine by myself.”
“Do you know how tempting it is to leave?” he asked. “I just... I'd feel bad, that's all. Even ignoring all the dumb ghost stories, this place can be a little dodgy at night, I'd hate for you to run into some idiotic kid.” He paused for a moment. “Well, I'm the building manager, and I consider this to be a part of my duties. I'm going to stay until three, just to make sure you're okay, and then I'll leave. As long as you don't mind me hanging around.”
He waited, but again she seemed to have zoned out.
“What?” she asked suddenly, turning to him. “Oh, yeah... Sure, that's great.”
“Something's changed,” he told her. “You seem like you're a million miles away.”
“No,” she replied, setting her tea down and rubbing her eyes, “I'm fine. Whether it's a ghost or some kid playing a prank, if anyone knocks on the door tonight I'm going to open it.”
“And there's nothing I can do to change your mind?”
She shook her head.
“Some Dutch courage, then?” he continued, taking a small, half-empty bottle of whiskey from his pocket. “Something to chase the fear away?”
“I don't think I should drink,” she replied, before correcting herself: “I mean, I'd rather stay focused.” She muttered something else, under her breath, before sighing. “I feel like I'm on the edge of something. It's as if I've got all these little clues, but I haven't managed to put them in the right order yet and now the truth is just staring at me, waiting for me to have some kind of breakthrough.”
“Or break-down.” He smiled. “Sorry. Bad joke.”
“I was thinking of going back to the police tomorrow.”
“You think you can get them to change their mind?”
“What choice do I have?” she asked. “I've tried everything I can think of, and I'm getting nowhere.”
