Deb felt it, at first, as a snap in the back of her neck. She sat up straight, pressing her hands into her lower back, stretching her spinal column, searching for the cracks and pops. The column of her back toppled back into place, one shifting plate at a time. She blew out a tight breeze of relief, rubbing the back of her neck. Craning it from side to side, she hoped to sound off another snap, just to assure herself she hadn’t made it up. But, no matter the angle she arched and swayed her neck, nothing happened. Even as her muscles loosened, her neck didn’t make a sound.

She tried to take a deep breath, placing her hands on the desk in front of her. Her fingers were pale and trembling, a resonance of pattering heartbeats filling her rib cage and dizzying her head. Her breathing remained rapid and shallow, her eyes locked on her knobby digits.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

She counted up with each cycle of her breathing. She’d always been good at counting, kept her calm, made sense of everything in a way that nothing else could. Arguably, it was the only thing she was good at. But this dread that was now clamoring about her body wasn’t loosened by the stony numerical corpi. It persisted, it felt so much bigger than her, as though it was a behemoth ghost, passing through her in horrified slices.

Where has this come from? Maybe she’d overworked? Her sleep seemed fine lately. It seemed like she had enough energy to handle the tasks at hand on a regular basis. Nothing was wrong just a moment ago. She walked to the window at the far end of her apartment, hoping that changing her context would help her escape this terror. She took in another deep breath, counting 1 and then 2 on the exhale. She eased the muscles in her forearms, tilting her head from side-to-side, feeling the muscles in her neck easing. She opened her eyes and looked out into the grid of apartments that all shared a view of the courtyard with her.

Suddenly there was the harrowing silence of an electrical grid dying. The courtyard went an unnatural, viewless black. It wasn't only deprived of light, it was filled with shadows. Deb's breathing shallowed again as a spark of terror carried up her nerves, dissipating in an involuntary jostle of muscles and an icy ember that carried up her spinal column. She blinked, just to make sure something hadn't obscured her vision. When her eyes focused again, she had not imagined it. It was as though a pool of pure black, reflectionless muck has been teleported into the courtyard.

The ring of apartments the next story up all went dark, followed by the next story after that. Deb backed away from the window and stumbled to the door. She unlatched the top lock and clamored out into the hallway. She knocked on Michel's door across the way. He was already right by the door, his face gray, eyes wide and scanning.

You ok? Deb inquired, her own breathing hastened. She hadn't expected to find him in such a state, but he looked as bad as Deb feared she must look in this moment.

He nodded, his eyes flickering back to focus as he swallowed down hard, his hand on his chest, which was pulsating up and down. But his head changed directions and his lips curled down into a frown, pursed so tightly his face flooded with the pale complexion of tension. I-I-I was on the phone with Brady when the call went dead, but, it wasn't just dead... Deb's frowned quizzically, but Michel didn't catch the cue.

What was it? she asked, What did you hear?

Michel moved out of the way and pointed at the phone, his arm extended as he moved backed out of the room, hand trembling. There was something in the ridiculousness of Michel's reaction that actually comforted Deb. He was in such a cartoony state that it made her feel as though she was actually handling this pretty well. Turning her gaze from the terrorized man, Deb walked to the table where the phone was nestled into its bed. She picked up the set and placed the speaker to her ear.

All she could hear was the quiet static buzz of a phone connection, which was, perhaps, strange, but not shocking.

Hello? she called into the microphone. Nothing called back, just the electric crittering of compressed audio. She looked back to Michel who stared in her direction, though, it wasn't clear if he was looking at her or through her. What did you hear Michel? I don't hear anythin-

Yes as clear as vibrations whispered directly over the eardrum, a voice finally replied over the line. It was direct, organic and authoritative. It was not a 'Yes' that hesitated with even remote insecurity. It was the sort of godspell that knew what it said would come to pass. It simultaneously soothed and discomforted Deb. A strange tinge of startled disgust shook up her arm. She set the phone down with the force of shaking an abrupt cockroach loose. She stood up, feeling a very similar chill to the one that had visited her after the snap.

She looked to the doorway when she heard a rumble. Michel was crumpled on the floor. Deb darted up to him, but stopped in her tracks when she saw the silhouette of something moving in the hallway. She tucked away around the corner. The hallway hissed with the buzz of an overpowered light bulb. She gasped, but held her hand over her mouth when she saw Michel's body jostled out into the hallway. No sound emitted from him as he was ripped out of the apartment, his carcass chaffed against the coarse carpet in the corridor. Deb hastened to through the dimly lit door frame, looking down the hallway at what had grabbed Michel. The buzzing stopped and all she caught was his head being gulped by a wall of black.

Deb jumped to, startled by the explosion of Michel's apartment door slamming beside her. She tried the budgeless doorknob, rattling the door in its frame. Slowly as she shook the door, it had less and less give, almost becoming like a segment of the way. Wallpaper bled down the front of the door, melting the doorknob and flowing down until it sealed neatly over the door. She placed a hand where the door used to be, feeling her brow trembling. She worried her bottom lip, feeling tears pooling at the brim of her bottom eyelid.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10

She repeated the counting, her hands rattling with shock. Dizziness hit her and she turned around to her own door which, thankfully, was still there. Grabbing the knob she heard a pert PSST! nearby. Both directions down the hallway looked empty to her, but, when she touched the doorknob once more she heard it again. This time a crouched figure appeared a few meters from her, looking to be making their frame as small as they could afford.

Don't go back, the figure demanded in as much of a shout as you could possibly whisper.

I beg your pardon? Deb called out, trying to focus her eyes on the huddled form.

That's how they get you. If you go back, they'll know exactly where you are and clean you right up! the voice was familiar to Deb, but she wasn't sure why.

W-what is going on? Deb begged, taking a step toward the stranger. The form backed away into the shadows and shook her head.

We don't have time. You've gotta come with me! and with that the figure scampered off into the dark. Deb looked at her door, hand still perched over the knob. The hallway was as inky dark as the courtyard was moments ago. What was in there was unknown to her, but, then again, so was everything that was currently happening around her. Letting her hand fall from the doorknob, Deb stepped into the black, over the event horizon into the depths of wherever this stranger was going to take her.

The lithe form was a few meters ahead, rushing toward the stairwell, repeating 'please please please' to herself over and over again. The door bellowed open, its hinges moaning under its weight.

Shit! the woman spat, a sigh erupting out of her like fiery breath from a dragon. Alright, the only way is up! and with that she crawled up the stairwell. Deb walked out onto the landing, seeing the stairs downward were missing. Completely gone. She didn't hesitate any longer and followed up.

Where are we going? Deb called up the way, struggling to keep up as they ascended.

The top, the stranger shouted back, huffing and coughing painfully, but still keeping ahead of Deb.

The top? Deb inquired, using the railing now to help pull herself up the stairwell faster. This stranger was taking the stairs three at a time, using all of her limbs to scale the stairs with an almost spider-like gait.

Yeah. The top, she offered back no further clarification, instead just increasing her pace, as if the mention of their destination had increased her appetite for that place. And soon enough they'd arrived at the metal door out to the rooftop. Help me push! She demanded and Deb complied. The two women heaved at the door, slowly moving its weight until it was open enough for them to climb through. Go! You can slip through! the stranger demanded. Once again, Deb did as she said, slipping through the space they'd created between the door and the frame. As soon as Deb was through the door lost a lot of progress, resetting a good 8 inches of clearance. There was no knob on this side, so Deb grabbed the edge of the door with both hands, dropping all of her body weight to pull the door in her direction. Please! You gotta pull! I'm not as strong as I once was! the woman called from the other side. I'm not ready to die. I'm not ready for this! she screamed, pressing all of the weight and effort she could afford into the door.

Deb leaned back, pushing back with one leg against the wall, trying to pull the door a little more open, but every moment they were losing progress little-by-little. The woman pushed herself into the space between the door and the frame, getting an arm out to try to drag herself through.

C'mon! PULL! she bellowed.

Deb screamed out, her muscles practically shredding from the stress she was putting on them from the pull. Her hands were completely white, her palms creased with the edge of the door. Her leg trembled, rattling back and forth, but the door had no give. The woman shrieked out as the door started to press against her rib cage, catching her in its jaw.

I'mstuckI'mstuckI'mstuck! she called, eyes going wide with realization. Her spindled fingers threshed at the wall, looking for a hold enough to slip her through. Deb's positioning on the door wasn't ideal and she was losing grip with each second, but, she feared if she let any tension off the door at this point, that the door would snap shut. But, even with all her effort, this was a slow loss. The woman thrashed like a panicked bug under the thumb of a malevolent captor. Her shrieks were unreserved, like some primal, purely animal sector of her physiology had been unlocked by the crushing force of the door. She ceased looking for words and instead called out with unmitigated animal force.

All at once Deb's foot slipped from the wall, the door budged a good two or three inches back toward the frame. There was a loud snapping noise, like breaking wood without the splintering. It was clean. The collapsing pressure of the doorway maw mitigated the woman's shrieks as her lungs were squeezed. Blood gurgled out into her screams and spilled out in coughs over the brim of her bottom lip. Tears stained her face as she looked up to Deb, their eyes meeting for the first time.

Deb's grip slipped loose as shock settled strong in her. Her own eyes stared back at her, horrified and dying. The last of the stranger's available air was burped from her as the door closed, splitting her spinal cord and mangling her bones, muscles and organs into a pulsating viscera salad. Deb fell to the ground, staring at her own body locked in the door. This woman looked a little thinner and far dirtier than Deb did, but, her appearance was unmistakable to her. A glance into a once autonomous mirror.

It was now that the shakes took over, starting in trembling digits, carrying up the arteries in her arms like a an IV injection of unfiltered shock. When this mix hit her heart it was quickly dispersed through her entire system, escaping through her tear ducts in a thread of tears. She curled into a ball, her body inarticulate with the invigoration of adrenaline and cortisol, but with nowhere properly for that mix to go. She let herself scream, only wishing that she could call out with the terror the stranger had bellowed with, while simultaneously wishing she could forget those screams. It was like a forbidden language that, once learned, could never be forgotten, no matter how much you wished.

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