Strange Man

Ericka saw him two days later, on her way to the supermarket to stock up on groceries.

The man was standing in front of the door of unit 2704, a box in his hand, wearing a black hoodie. He looked shocked when he saw Ericka step out of her unit.

Damn Altman, Ericka muttered to herself. It turned out there really was another occupant in this floor. He must be the animal abuser, the one who had kept her awake since the first night.

“You live next door,” Ericka said flatly.

The man nodded and pulled his hoodie further over his head. When he lifted his hand, Ericka could see the horrific scars on his wrist. Claw marks that had turned into scars.

Ericka shuddered.

She locked the door and prepared to leave, refusing to talk to the man any further.

Ericka's plans changed. Instead of going to the supermarket, she would go to Altman's office and ask him to find her another apartment.

“When did you move in?”

Ericka turned and saw the man pointing at her door.

"Two days ago," Ericka replied, trying to keep her voice casual. She didn't want to get into trouble with the strange man.

The man nodded again. "If you hear any strange noises," he said, his voice low and controlled, "Just ignore them. Don't investigate. Don't call the police."

Ericka was stunned. The man's tone wasn't a threat.

It was a plea.

The moment the door to his unit closed, Ericka knew something was wrong.

The moon that night woke Ericka, who had fallen asleep, too sleepy, on the sofa in front of the television, which was on with the sound turned off.

The light streamed in through the cracked window, which wasn't fully closed. Strangely, the moonlight was a thick, red color, like blood smeared on glass, and the air around Ericka felt heavier.

Then, before Ericka could get up to look out the window as she had intended, the sounds came again.

This time, they were clearer.

The sound of chains being pulled. Body hitting the walls and floor, and heavy breathing that morphed into a steady, low, deep growl.

Ericka cried involuntarily.

This didn't make sense. This wasn't real. What was happening? What was the man in unit 2704 doing?

Ericka checked after she returned from the supermarket, having not gone to Altman's office. Only hers and the man's units were occupied on the 27th floor. The two floors below were completely empty, as were the other six units on the 27th floor.

The soft, pained whine that followed made Ericka grab a baseball bat from under the table and get up from the couch.

She had only taken two steps out of her unit door when a roar shattered the night.

Ericka nearly choked on her own breath. Her body moved before her mind could stop it. She stood in front of the door of unit 2704, her hands shaking, her mind screaming to run.

But something inside was dying. A large dog, being brutally abused by its owner. Or perhaps someone who had kidnapped it from its owner.

Ericka was about to dial the emergency number for the police when the door to unit 2704 suddenly opened with a soft sound, as if someone from inside had quietly opened it.

Ericka's hands trembled, as did her knees, as she turned the doorknob.

Then, what she saw made Ericka's head spin, and she collapsed to the floor without a sound.

***

A chill that spread from the floor to her spine finally brought Ericka to her senses.

She opened her eyes and realized that the ceiling above her wasn't the ceiling of her unit.

Ericka didn't want to wake up. She knew that if she did, she might not be able to face what lay ahead.

"You're awake."

A low, deep, and cold voice forced Ericka to stop resisting. And the sound of rattling chains made Ericka realize that there might be danger that would more easily hurt her if she continued to show vulnerability.

Ericka rose slowly and gasped, a mixture of shock and fear, when she saw what lay before her.

The man from unit 2704 sat leaning against a steel pillar embedded in the center of the room.

A large steel chain wrapped around one wrist and one waist, secured to the pillar by a thick padlock.

The man was naked from head to waist, and the stench of blood, still dripping from wounds both wet and dried, made his appearance even more terrifying.

Ericka quickly got up, fighting back her dizziness, and backed away until she was pressed against the wall behind her.

Her heart was pounding wildly, nearly shattering her ribs. She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Her tongue felt numb.

“W-what…” her breath hitched. “What did you do to me?”

“Nothing,” the man said. His voice sounded tired. “I just dragged you a little bit from the door.”

Ericka swallowed. “What happened to you? And where is the dog?”

“What dog?” the man asked, confused.

“The dog you’ve been torturing for the past two nights. I heard it yelping in pain,” Ericka said sharply. She stared at him in fear. “And why are you chained and injured like that?”

The man laughed. His voice was hoarse and strained, as if every sound he made hurt his throat.

"You think I'm torturing a dog?"

He shook his head and raised his hands, rattling the chains that bound him.

"That's me," he said. "The dog's voice came from me, when I had to chain the madness inside me."

"Y-you..." Ericka closed her eyes for a moment, trying to process what she saw and heard. "Who are you?"

"My name is Liam," the man replied. "You shouldn't be here."

Ericka laughed nervously, sensing the irony of her current situation. "I thought so too."

She looked around. The room was nearly empty. There was no furniture, except for the iron bar that chained the man, a mattress on the floor, a laptop on it, and empty food boxes and soda cans on the floor.

Ericka's eyes were fixed on the wall, which was scrawled with strange symbols, atop a dull white, and had many spatters of dried blood on it.

Some of the symbols have been erased, and others have been scratched over so many times that the paint has peeled off.

On the floor, from the mattress to the steel pole, there were bloodstains in an unintentional pattern, as if someone had tried to drag themselves. The blood was still half wet.

“I warned you,” Liam said again. “I should have known that for a human like you, a prohibition is an order.”

Liam chuckled and moved slowly, dragging himself against the wall behind the pole. He closed his eyes and lowered his head, as if trying to sleep.

Liam's words confused Ericka. “What do you mean, a human like me? Are you not—”

“Did you see me,” Liam interrupted coldly. “Do you think I'm human? That's why I warned you this afternoon! I should have just thrown you out!”

“Don't call the police,” Ericka muttered. “Don't find out.”

“Go,” Liam said. He pointed to the door. “That damn door won't close, so just go and kick it shut once you're outside.”

Ericka stared at the door. It was only a few steps away. Freedom was there. Safety.

“What happens,” Ericka asked quietly, “If I call the police?”

“You won’t, unless you want to see a massacre,” Liam replied, after a long silence. “The police you call will die, and then, I’ll break all my bones until I die, because I have no choice.”

There was a chilling honesty in Liam’s words. There was no defense. No attempt to sound nice. He simply stated the facts.

Instead of leaving, Ericka crouched down, hugging her knees, which felt like jelly. Her hands were shaking violently, but she followed her instincts and decided to stay.

“If I stay here, will you kill me?” Ericka asked, her trembling voice not masked by false bravado.

She was terrified. But Liam’s silver eyes, icy and razor-sharp, showed a clear, abyssal despair, as if mirroring her own situation.

Liam snorted. “No. I’m exhausted enough now, and the blood moon is about to pass. You’re lucky.”

"Then I-I'll stay and you'll explain what... this is all about!" Ericka said.

She reached for the baseball bat lying not far from the door, dusted off the imaginary dust on the floor, and sat cross-legged, cradling the bat.

Liam stared at Ericka, his eyes gleaming. He straightened his back and fidgeted with his chains, ready to attack.

However,

"Have you ever heard of werewolves?"