3AM

by Amy Cross

In the distance, a train sped past the building.

  Stumbling out of the kitchen, Jennifer hurried to the front door and pulled it open. Making her way out onto the walkway, she headed to the stairwell, her eyes wide with fear as she replayed the moment of her father's death over and over. By the time she got to the top of the stairs, she had to stop for a moment: she'd been planning to call the police, to tell them everything she'd discovered about her father's activities and all the victims he'd killed, but now a different idea was drifting into her thoughts. Deep down, she knew that no matter what she did, her father would always be a part of her, and that there would always be a danger that she'd become like him.

  She heard his voice in the back of her head: “You have... my... talent... for killing...”

  “No,” she whispered, “I don't, I...”

  Looking down at her hands again, she watched as blood trickled down onto her wrists.

  “I'm just like you,” she whimpered. “As long as I'm alive, a part of you is too.”

  As another train rumbled past the building, she raced down to the second floor, then to the first and finally down into the dark foyer. Running past the building manager's office, she headed out through the main doors and emerged in the crisp night air, before turning and racing around the side of the building and then hurrying down the alley until she reached the spot where a section of the fence had been damaged many years ago and left un-repaired. Pulling it aside, she slipped through until she was on the rocky embankment that led down to the train tracks. She kept telling herself not to think, not to plan; instead, she wanted to just go with her instincts and stop worrying about the pain.

  Besides, no amount of physical pain could ever be as bad as the agony in her heart.

  “Don't think,” she whispered to herself. “Just do it.”

  Looking back up at the building, she saw that the light in flat 313 was still on, where her father's dead body lay in the kitchen and where her mother had been found all those years ago.

  In the distance, yet another train could be heard approaching.

  Hurrying down the embankment, she stopped as she reached the edge of the track. Checking her watch, she saw that the time was exactly 3am. She watched as the train's light came into view, rounding the corner at full speed. Figuring that she couldn't afford to give the driver time to stop, she waited as the rails began to vibrate with the force of the oncoming engine.

  Just a few more seconds, she told herself.

  “I can't live,” she whispered, “not when part of you is in my soul.”

  With that, she stepped out onto the track.

  “You're... my little girl...” she heard her father's voice say as the train rushed straight toward her.

  “That's why I have to do this,” she said calmly. “So I don't grow up and become like you.”

  Her tears stopped falling.

  She was free.

  The driver spotted her at the last moment, but it was too late. The impact caused her body to explode, scattering bone and blood in all directions as the train's brakes caused its wheels to screech. The driver's cab ended up a good twenty feet further along the track by the time the wheels stopped completely. In the moonlight, patches of blood could be seen all along the rails and up on the side of the carriage. A moment later, one of the train's doors opened and a conductor jumped down onto the gravel. Switching on her flashlight, she made her way along the side of the train until finally she saw the mangled remains of Jennifer Hathaway. After staring for a moment in stunned silence, the conductor turned and hurried back to the door, where she stopped and threw up while horrified passengers craned their necks to try to see out through the windows.

  Nearby, just past the fence that ran along the side of the train-line, the Marshall Heights tower-block stood silhouetted against the night sky.

  Two

  Today

  The Marshall Heights tower-block stood silhouetted against the night sky as a light rain continued to fall.

  ***

  “No!” Rose screamed, slamming into the door and desperately trying to find the right key. “Get the hell away from me!”

  “Ellis Hathaway was a great man,” Michael explained calmly, standing a little way behind her. “He was killing people for years, he made a real art of it. Most serial killers get caught, but he knew how to keep his obsessions out of sight. The police were never smart enough to connect the dots, and he only took small trophies. Teeth were his thing. Who notices if a corpse is missing a tooth or two? He would have got away with it forever if it hadn't been for his daughter, but now he's going to have another chance, and I'm going to be with him every step of the way.”

  Fumbling with the keys, Rose desperately tried not to look at the reflection in the glass in front of her. Something was approaching from behind, something tall and dark. She felt the air chilling all around her, and after a moment a hint of frost began to form on the window.

  “Come on,” Rose muttered, still trying to find the right key.

  “His daughter killed herself after she murdered him,” Michael continued. “I think you've met her, she's been haunting the place almost ever since that night, but she must have known that eventually he'd find a way back. Now her father's coming home to take charge and I'm sure his first move will be to punish that dumb bitch for what she did to him. You should be flattered, Rose. Your place in this world is going to be taken by someone important. So many worthless ghosts have come through, I was starting to wonder how much longer it would take Ellis to reach us, but now he's here. He just needs one last thing from you. He needs your body.”

  “Please,” she whimpered, trying key after key without any luck, “I swear -”

  Turning, she saw that Ellis Hathaway was reaching out toward her. His gray, scarred hand was just inches from her face.

  “No!” she shouted, ducking out of the way. Dropping the keys in the process, she stumbled as she ran over to the nearby wall. Turning to look back, she saw that Ellis was slowly turning toward her, his eyes filled with anger.

  “I'm sorry,” Jennifer whispered nearby, sitting on the floor with her knees drawn up to her chin as if she was trying to hide her face. “I never wanted him to come back, I thought I'd made him go away forever. I spent so long trying to get the courage to kill him, but even drugging him and stabbing him wasn't enough.”

  Slowly, Ellis stepped toward Rose.

  “You can't fight this,” Michael explained. “He's forced his way through, Rose, and now he's going to send you the other way, and he'll keep your body here. It's natural, really. A man like Ellis Hathaway should never have been killed at all. He has so much work left to do, and even if he has a different body, he'll still be the same person. There'll always be idiots who stumble into Marshall Heights, and Ellis loves to hunt. No-one cares about the people who live here. Or rather, the people who used to live here. There's no-one left except the ghosts of old residents.”

  Hurrying across the foyer, Rose tried the other door again, only to find that it was still locked. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw the haunting figure of Ellis Hathaway making its way toward her once again. Although the ghost could seemingly only move slowly, there was something relentless about its pursuit, and as it got closer Rose realized that once again the air all around her was starting to freeze.

  “Please don't make this any harder than it has to be,” Michael continued. “I waited so long for this moment, but Ellis has finally chosen a body that he feels he can take. There has to be physical contact before the switch is complete, so please, Rose, you should feel honored. Don't cause trouble.”

  “I've always caused trouble,” Rose muttered, looking across the foyer as she desperately tried to work out how to get free. “So that's where they are?” she asked finally, turning back to Michael. “My sister and all the other people... You sent them through the barrier? Why`?”

  “Bait,” he replied. “I knew that if I wanted to make Ellis notice me, I had to show him that someone was con
tinuing his work at Marshall Heights. It took a while, I had to kill a lot of people, but eventually he came back to see what I've been doing.”

  “You're a monster,” Rose hissed.

  “I knew that he'd arrive eventually,” Michael continued. “I've been waiting for him, always hoping that he'd be the next one to come back from the dark place. He's the greatest killer I've ever heard of, even if those idiots at the university couldn't accept that he existed. The man's crimes went virtually undetected but when I learned about him, I knew I had to come to Marshall Heights and follow in his footsteps, and ever since then I've been waiting, cultivating the right environment for his return. The man would be a legend if people knew what he'd done. One day, he'll be recognized as the greatest killer the world has ever seen. I only hope he'll teach me some of his skills.”

  Rose watched in horror as the tall figure of Ellis Hathaway made its way toward her. For a moment she felt frozen in place, as if fear was overwhelming her to such an extent that she might just wait and let him get to her. Finally, as he reached out to grab her arm, she ducked out of the way and raced across the foyer, only for Michael to take hold of her arm and pull her closer.

  “Fine,” he said, “let's do this the hard way.”

  She tried to twist free, but a moment later she felt a sharp pain in her left leg. Looking down, she saw that Michael had stabbed her, with blood flowing out across the hilt of the knife and over his hand. Pulling her closer, he twisted the blade, causing her to cry out in pain as she felt her body starting to weaken. As she placed her hands on his chest and tried to push him away, she felt her mind becoming foggy.

  “As long as you're still alive when he touches you,” he hissed, “he'll be able to take your body. You're his ticket to this world. He can be far more than just another ghost.” He twisted the knife again, causing her to scream. “We can fix a damaged leg later, once Ellis has your body.”

  She tried again to push him away, but she felt her knees starting to buckle and as Michael eased her down onto the floor, all Rose could manage was to turn and watch as the ghost of Ellis Hathaway made its way toward her.

  “Don't cry,” Michael continued, slipping the blade out of her leg and tossing it across the foyer. “Just stay calm, Rose. This next part really doesn't have to hurt, not if you just accept the inevitable. You can do that, can't you? You can facet the truth. Besides, it'll be like a family reunion. Your soul will go through to the dark place and you'll get to see your sister again, and your aunt...” He leaned down and kissed the side of her face. “I'll always remember you. You're the one whose body will allow Ellis to come back into the world. Doesn't that make you feel special?”

  Gasping for breath, Rose tried to push him away as blood flowed from the wound in her leg. She fell back, slipping in the red pool that had already gathered beneath her, and finally she looked up as Ellis Hathaway stopped nearby. His dark, soulless eyes stared down at her, and slowly he reached out a long, gray-skinned hand.

  “Don't let him touch you!” Jennifer screamed from the far side of the foyer. “Don't let him come back!”

  “I can't...” Rose whispered, barely able to even move her lips. “I can't... stop...”

  “Please don't let him come back,” Jennifer whimpered, burying her head in her hands. “You can't. Please, he'll just pick up where he stopped before.”

  Ellis turned for a moment, seemingly angered by his daughter's voice.

  “We don't have much time,” Michael said, watching Ellis intently. “Please, after all this, you have to act while the barrier is still weak.”

  Rose stared in horror as Ellis moved his hand closer to her face. At the last moment, she rolled to one side and avoided his touch. Spotting the door to Michael's office nearby, she stumbled to her feet, almost slipping in her own blood before she ran across the foyer and pushed the door open. Slamming it shut behind her, she tried to find a way to lock the others out, before grabbing a nearby desk and pulling it across the door, and then she dragged several other items of furniture and used them to form a makeshift barricade. She knew it wouldn't keep them out for long, but as she took a step back and looked around the office, she figured she'd bought herself some time.

  “Don't be an idiot, Rose,” Michael called from the other side as he banged on the door. “You're only delaying the inevitable!”

  Three

  “Please,” Beth whispered, with her hands over her ears, “come and save me...”

  ***

  Barely able to stand, with blood flowing down her leg and onto the floor, Rose stumbled across the room. Reaching the shelves at the far end, she searched among the paint tins and old sheets, desperately trying to find something she could use as a weapon. After a moment, however, she spotted a set of spare gas canisters propped against the far wall. Hurrying over, she grabbed the nearest canister and found that the seal was still unbroken, and finally she remembered Ben's words to her over the phone:

  “There are ghosts everywhere in the world. What's different about Marshall Heights is that the building makes them stronger. It gives them a chance to come back.”

  “The building,” she whispered, before twisting the pin on the canister's nozzle and pulling it out. She immediately heard a faint hiss, and a moment later she realized she could smell gas. Closing the nozzle, she looked over at the door. She could already hear Michael trying to force his way through, so she knew she had to be quick.

  “What are you doing in there?” he called out. “Rose, this has to happen!”

  Turning to the desk, she opened the drawers and quickly found a box of matches. Her hands were trembling as she pulled the pin out of the canister and once again heard the hiss of gas. Looking across the room, she realized she'd have to time things just right. Racing to the door, she set the canister down and then retreated, staring with wide-eyed fear as Michael finally managed to get the door open.

  “Rose,” he said, stepping into the room with the ghost of Ellis Hathaway just a few paces further back, “you have to stop this, you're being -”

  “Inventive,” she replied, striking the side of the lighter to produce a flame. There were tears in her eyes, but she knew she had no choice. “I'm being inventive.”

  “No Rose, you're just being foolish.”

  He stopped suddenly, as if he'd finally noticed the smell of gas.

  “Rose? What have you -”

  With that, she reached down and lit a rolled up piece of paper, which immediately started to burn.

  “Rose,” Michael continued, taking a step forward, “let's talk about this...”

  “It's your precious building,” she said firmly. “The building's everything, isn't it? It's the building that weakens the barrier, and it's the building that allows the ghosts to come through like this. Without the building, you've got nothing.”

  Behind Michael, the ghost of Ellis Hathaway stepped into the room.

  “You don't know what you're talking about,” Michael said firmly, keeping his eyes on the burning paper in her hand. Looking around, he spotted the gas canister and hurried over to close the nozzle. “Ellis Hathaway is the greatest killer in British history,” he continued, fumbling with the canister for a moment, “and I've waited so long for him to finally come back to the world. Now that he's here -”

  “Too late,” Rose replied, tossing the burning paper through the air. “This is for my aunt and my sister.”

  Michael lunged at the paper, but he was too late:

  Rose watched in horror as the air around the canister burst into a kind of rippling blue flame. A fraction of a second later, a huge blast filled the room, sending flames rushing up to the ceiling and then surging across the room. As she saw Michael's form being blasted back, Rose ducked down behind a nearby desk just in time to avoid a fireball that crashed through the room. She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of the ceiling starting to collapse, and she kept expecting that at any moment she'd be crushed by debris. After a few seconds, however, she opened her eyes
and peered above the top of the desk, only to see that the far end of the office was already burning fast, with part of the ceiling having collapsed.

  Getting to her feet and using her sleeve to keep the worst of the smoke from her mouth, she tried to make her way around the desk and over to the door, only to be beaten back by a wall of flame. She tried another route, but the fire was spreading rapidly and she had to stop and try to work out how she could get to the door. As a section of the ceiling came crashing down next to her, she climbed over one of the desks and then dropped down onto the floor, where the smoke was thinner. Edging her way around the side, she tried again to spot the door, and finally she realized she could just about make out a clear path if she -

  Suddenly a hand reached out from the flames and grabbed her wrist, and a moment later she saw Michael hauling himself toward her. She twisted around and tried to kick him, but he held on and with his other hand he grabbed her by the waist. Leaning toward her, he began to scream as loose sections of skin sloughed away from his burned face.

  “What did you do to her?” Rose asked, turning her body until her right foot was next to his head. “What did you do to my sister?”

  Trying to claw his way closer, Michael let out a cry of pain.

  “And my aunt?” she continued, with tears in her eyes. “Did you really think no-one would come looking for them? Or did you just not care?” She waited for an answer, butt finally she realized he could no longer speak. “If I'm going to be your next victim,” she told him, “at least I'm going to make damn sure there are no more.”

  With that, she kicked him as hard as possible in the side of the face, knocking off a section of his burned cheek and sending him crashing to the floor. Pulling back, she kept her eyes on him as she inched over to the wall, and finally she watched as the flames began to consume his body. He tried one more time to pull himself free, but seconds later the dark figure of Ellis Hathaway stepped through the inferno and stopped to look down at him.