Corrupt(12)

Was that knocking? But who would be knocking? I didn’t know anyone here—not yet anyway. I’d just arrived today, and I didn’t have any neighbors…

And—I glanced at the alarm clock on my nightstand—it was after one in the morning.

Turning over, I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, slowly feeling the fogginess dissipate.

I thought for sure that I’d heard knocking. Like a steady thumping.

I looked around me, the moonlight streaming in from the window and falling across the white sheets as I listened for any sound in the silence of the still and dark apartment.

But then a loud thud hit, and I jumped, sucking in a breath. Throwing off the sheets, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand.

That wasn’t a knock.

Clutching the phone in my hand, I slowly tiptoed across my bedroom floor, listening for another sound and searching my brain, trying to remember if I’d locked all the doors. The front, the glass partition to the courtyard, and…

Had I locked the rear entrance? Yeah. Yeah, of course I had.

But then the thud hit again, and I halted. What the hell?

It was dull and heavy, like deadweight falling, and I had no idea if it was above me, below me, or next to me.

I crept down the hallway, into the living room and past the load of paint supplies I’d bought earlier today. I may not have gotten the tiny apartment I wanted or been able to buy my own pots and pans, but I could sure as hell make this place mine with a little color.

Jogging silently into the kitchen, I grabbed a knife out of the block and fisted the handle, the blade facing behind me as I approached the front door. I still wasn’t sure where the sound came from, but common sense told me to check the entrances.

I peered through the peephole, every hair on my arms standing on end. As much as I’d wanted to be on my own, I was a little freaked out about that now.

Arching up on my tiptoes, I peered through the hole, spotting the elevator a few feet down the hall and the soft flicker of the sconces.

But there was nothing and no one visible. The hallway appeared empty.

I jerked my head behind me as the booming thuds sounded again.

I fell back to my feet and crept through my apartment as I listened to the pounding that had now become a steady attack. My feet followed the sound, stepping absently closer to it, and I finally pressed my ear against the wall leading to my hallway, my heart racing as the vibrations touched my skin.

Resting my cheek against the surface, I swallowed the tight lump in my throat as the thumping against the wall grew faster and faster.

There was someone over there. In the empty apartment.

Holding up my phone, I dialed the office downstairs but got no answer. I knew there was a night manager named Simon Something-Or-Other, but I didn’t think many people were on duty at night. He must be away from his desk.

I continued listening, wondering if I could ignore it and just wait until morning to ask the manager about it, but the further down the hall I travelled, the louder it got until I was standing next to the rear entrance.

Opening up the door, I peeked my head into the hallway, holding the heavy steel exit open just enough to inspect.

Glancing to my right, I saw a door just like mine. And then I heard a woman’s high-pitched cry ring out around me, and I started breathing harder.

And then there was another cry. And another, and another, and…

Was she having sex? My mouth fell open as I tried not to laugh.

Oh, my God.

But I thought the place was supposed to be empty.

I stepped out, knife in hand—just in case—and walked quietly down to the other door, glancing up and seeing small security cameras along the wall, probably installed when the apartments were built.

Pressing my ear to the door, I listened, still hearing the thump, thump, thump of something hitting the wall, and the girl’s breathy cries over and over again.

I folded my lips between my teeth, covering my smile with my free hand.

But then the woman cried out. “No! Ah, oh, God! Please!”

And my face fell, hearing the fear in her voice. The short, shrill screams were now different. Panicked and scared, and her cries sounded struggled. My mouth suddenly went dry as I stood there listening.

“Ah!” she cried out again. “No, please stop!”

I backed away from the door, not finding it funny anymore.

But then something hit the door from the other side, making a loud thud, and I scurried backward. “Oh, shit,” I gritted out under my breath.

I shot my head up to the cameras, now wondering if they fed to Security downstairs or to whoever was inside the apartment. Did they know I was out here?

I spun around and dashed for my door, grabbing the handle and trying to twist it.

But it was locked. “Dammit!” I mouthed. Fucking thing must lock automatically.

Another thud hit the door, mere feet away from me—so close—and I darted my eyes over to it, my breathing turning fast and painful.

I pulled on the door handle again, twisting and yanking, but it didn’t budge.

Another thud hit the door, and I jerked upright, dropping the knife.

“Shit.”

I dived down to pick it up, but just then I heard the other door swing open, so I bolted down the stairwell, hiding behind the wall and forgetting about the knife.

Fuck!

Screw this. Whoever was coming out of the vacant apartment was definitely someone I didn’t want to meet. I dashed down flight after flight, a cry lodged in my throat as fear gripped my chest.