Stuart James - Apartment 6

‘I’m by the front door. There’s a couple of apartments on my floor, people I don’t know. I’ll try them first.’ Her heart was pounding, feeling a trickle of perspiration rolling down her face. ‘There’s no answer.’

She could hear Oliver shouting, telling her to go home and forget what she’d seen.

Meagan jabbed the buzzer again. ‘Come on; I know you’re in there, answer the bloody phone. I’ll try another one. Gloved-man has to be in one of them.’

Meagan looked into the hall from outside, searching for a shadow coming down the stairs. She lifted her hand, debating whether to press again, pushing the button and waiting. ‘Answer, you prick.’

‘Hello.’

Meagan froze, unsure what to say.

‘Who’s there? Hello.’

Oliver was mute, listening to the calamity unfold before his ears.

Meagan heard the phone being placed back on the hook. She pressed the buzzer again, longer this time.

‘Hello. Who the fuck is there? I’m coming down.’ The phone was again placed back on the hook.

Oliver’s voice came down her phone, raised to get her attention. ‘Meagan, for Christ’s sake, leave it while you can.’

Meagan quickly went back into the communal hall. She could hear footsteps charging down towards her from upstairs. She took a deep breath, opened the cupboard and stepped inside.

A small halogen light hung above her head, so she could see where she was standing. Water dripped onto her leg from one of the pipes. She held her breath; gloved-man was outside the cupboard door.

‘Shit, Oliver. What have I done? Shit. Shit. Shit.’ Meagan heard the front door open; gloved-man stood outside the building. Suddenly the front door shut. She edged forward, cracking the cupboard door open slightly, looking out through the gap. Gloved-man was walking down the steps and moving along the street.

Meagan charged out of the cupboard, the door smashing against the back wall. ‘Oliver, I’m going to lock him out. It won’t keep him for long, but it should slow him down.’

She spun around, quickly going back up the two flights of stairs. ‘Oliver, he’s left his apartment door open.’ Then she added to reassure Oliver that she was still safe, ‘The front door downstairs hasn’t opened, so he hasn’t come back in.’ She stood outside gloved-man’s apartment, bending forward to ease the stitch that had just developed. Her face was flushed, and her legs had momentarily weakened. She glanced along the corridor. The light was still flickering towards the back of the building.

She brought the phone to her ear, making sure that Oliver was still with her. ‘If something happens, call the police. You’ll hear if it goes wrong, Oliver.’

He hesitated. ‘I’m calling the police anyway. You’re in severe danger, Meagan.’

‘Listen Oliver, if you call the police, Rob will kill me, it’s as simple as that. He’s warned me time and again never to interfere with the neighbours. I’m on my own here. I’m going to get to the woman; she could still be alive. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.’

Meagan reached her hands forward, pushing the front door wider, and stepped into the hallway of gloved-man’s apartment.

She whispered as softly as possible. ‘Hello. Are you okay? Hello. I’m here to help.’ Meagan waited for a response. ‘I’m going to help you. I live on this floor. Are you all right?’

She slowly went down the hall. The apartment was pitch black, lit only by a small glow coming from the landing upstairs in front of her.

‘Hello. Can you hear me?’ Meagan pulled a cupboard door open to her right, and a small light came on. On the floor were a mop and bucket, a couple of shelves filled with DIY objects, light bulbs, tools and an array of plugs.

She gently shut the cupboard, moving towards a room to her left. She opened the door, finding a bathroom. Meagan pulled a light cord above her head. She leant back, covering her mouth with her hand, letting out a scream. ‘She’s dead, Oliver. The woman from the communal hall is lying in the bath, sunk into the water.’

There were footsteps outside; someone in the communal landing was coming towards the door where Meagan was standing.

‘Shit.’

‘Meagan, get out of there. He’s going to come back; you’ll be next. I’m coming over.’

She didn’t answer.

Meagan closed the bathroom door, going along gloved-man’s hallway. She opened the closet door in the hall, stepped inside and closed the door gently. She held her breath, frightened to move, listening to Oliver’s voice over the phone and hearing footsteps where she stood.

She saw a shadow lurking outside. Through the slight gap between the door and the frame, she saw the shadow move. Gloved-man was coming along the hall. Meagan crouched, her body aching, listening intently.

‘What am I doing here? He’s going to kill me! I’m such an idiot. I can’t escape. Help me, Oliver.’

Meagan listened. The apartment had gone silent. Her heart raced, she was suddenly dizzy, feeling claustrophobic, needing to get out of the closet. Her anxiety level increased tenfold, and gasping for breath she pushed the door open slightly, enough to see the hallway.

The apartment door was open to her left. Along the hall she saw the bathroom door had closed.

Meagan slowly stepped out of the closet, holding her breath, edging towards the front door. She heard a splash of water. Gloved-man groaned, talking to himself.

‘I think he’s in the bathroom, Oliver. I can hear water, he’s taking the dead body out of the fucking water, probably lifting her over his shoulders. I can hear water dripping.’

‘Please, Meagan, just get out,’ Oliver demanded.

Meagan went to the front door, edging slowly, glancing behind every couple of seconds, treading as carefully as possible on the wooden floor. She reached the front door and shut it gently behind her.

Quickly, she went to her apartment. A voice from behind startled her. ‘Where are you going?’

Meagan stiffened, her body numb. She turned, fighting the feeling of terror. ‘Rob, I didn’t hear you come up.’

‘Where did you go?’

Meagan quickly turned the phone off. It was the spare that Rob didn’t know about that she kept hidden at the back of her underwear drawer. She cut off the call to Oliver and shoved the phone in the back pocket of her jeans.

‘I wanted to see if the lift was working. The old lady upstairs is struggling, and it’s not fair. Let’s go inside, I’ll make you something to eat.’ She peered at gloved-man’s apartment, hoping he wouldn’t come out. Is Rob going to check my pockets?

‘Sounds good.’

Meagan opened the front door, leading Rob by the arm. He was high, sniffing like crazy, his eyes wild. Once inside apartment six, he pushed Meagan against the wall, rubbing his hands over her body, lifting his knee and placing it between her legs. Grabbing her hair, he pulled her head back, planting sloppy kisses on her neck.

‘No, Rob, I’m not in the mood. I’m tired and just need to rest.’

He slapped her face, leaving a red mark across her cheek, then pushed her harder against the wall.

‘Rob, I can’t. I don’t feel great, please.’

Again Rob lashed out, this time punching his wife in the stomach, watching her double over. He helped her up, grabbing her by the neck. ‘I make the fucking rules.’

He undid his belt as Meagan cried out, holding her throat with his left hand.

The door knocked. Meagan sighed with relief, exhaling a hard breath from her lips.

Rob quickly let go of his wife’s throat. ‘Who the hell is that?’ As Rob opened the door, Meagan stepped back.

The old lady from upstairs was standing at the door, looking concerned. ‘I’m so sorry to bother you both, I have a power cut and was wondering if you’re affected?’