Unit 2702

Ericka chose unit 2702 for one simple reason that seemed logical to her, even if it sounded strange to anyone else: no one would look for her that high up.

"I don't want to scare you," Altman said cautiously. "But I don't think this place is worth it for you, even with the affordable price and the added bonus of nice, new furniture."

Ericka smiled faintly. "Thank you, Mr. Altman, but for me, this is the best fit for what I want."

Altman sighed. He nodded, though he still looked dissatisfied and worried. "Okay, if you're sure. If you need another place later, just call me anytime."

Ericka nodded. "Yes, I will, Mr. Altman."

She watched Altman descend the stairs at the end of the corridor before opening the door to unit 2702, entering, and quickly locking it.

Ericka leaned against the door, examining the surroundings of her chosen unit. Her feelings were mixed, but for now, she had made her choice, and this place would be her home, for who knows how long.

The apartment was called the Blue Lavender Apartments, a mid-range building located on the outskirts of the city, far from the hustle and bustle of the city, and even further from the spotlight.

From the outside, the building looked like a remnant of a life that should have been abandoned long ago. The dull, gray-green walls, patches of peeling paint on the corners of the balconies, and dark windows in the unoccupied units seemed to stare blankly out at the deserted street below.

The apartment had 27 floors. However, unofficially, people only recognized 24 floors.

That was because the elevator only operated to the 24th floor. The three floors above, the 25th to 27th floors and the rooftop, had to be reached by stairs. For some reason, the building's designers had not extended the elevator access to the top floor.

Since two years ago, after a salesman living in one of the 26th-floor units was found dead, committing suicide by jumping from the rooftop, prospective tenants have chosen to ignore the three floors without elevator access.

The city government had actually included the apartment on a list of buildings slated for renovation, deeming it uninhabitable due to its age, location, and various unofficial reports that were difficult to verify.

This included rumors.

About strange noises at night.

About lights that sometimes turned on by themselves.

About several residents who claimed to see shadows standing in empty hallways.

Ericka chose to ignore them and chose the apartment as her new home.

Unit 2702 had been empty for almost two years. Dust clung to the corners of the ceiling, and the air smelled damp and musty, like an unoccupied room, even though all the furnishings looked new under the white sheets covering them.

The large window in the living room overlooked the empty lot and the small street below the building, which was almost never used by vehicles after 8 p.m.

Ericka took a deep breath and grabbed a broom. Perfect, she thought. I couldn't ask for anything more secluded than this.

The first day she moved in, Ericka removed the SIM card from her phone without hesitation, broke it in half, then threw it down the toilet and flushed it without hesitation.

The new number was ready. She had bought it on her way to the apartment and kept it on a small piece of paper she had folded and hidden in her wallet.

She had cut her long, light caramel-colored hair in the bathroom of the unit, then dyed it jet black.

The mirror in front of her reflected a face that looked different after her hair had been cut short, dyed black, and she had also added gray plastic-framed glasses.

Ericka felt her heart throb with pain, but she knew she had done the right thing. Even her own past self probably wouldn't recognize her in her current appearance.

Later, night fell, and Ericka lay down on her bed, her whole body feeling like it had been beaten.

Ericka was tired, but she couldn't close her eyes to truly fall asleep. She lay on the bed, fully clothed, in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

She also placed a jacket on the pillow next to her and her shoes under the bed near her feet. If she had to run, she wanted to be ready.

She had checked the doors and windows several times. She had pushed a wooden chair against the main doorknob, wedging it at just the right angle so the door couldn't be opened from the outside without making a sound.

It was an old habit. One that shouldn't have been necessary anymore, but her mind and body had become too automatic to perform the ritual without her will.

The living room lights were dimmed, and a baseball bat was at the ready on the sofa, near the bedroom door, and also on the kitchen counter. Ericka also had one on the pillow supporting her head.

After checking for the fifth time that everything was as it should be, Ericka finally felt her eyes grow heavy and she began to drift off into sleep.

However,

Ericka jolted awake quickly, her hand reflexively reaching for the baseball bat on the pillow and positioning it firmly in her hand.

The silence was too tense, and a low, heavy growl could be heard from the other wall. The sound of a wounded animal.

Ericka's body stiffened instantly. She listened intently. She waited. There might be a scream or a commotion. Ericka was filled with anticipation.

Then, there was a sound like something heavy falling to the floor, followed by a softer growl, more like the yelping of a dog in pain.

Was there an animal abuser living in another unit on this floor? Why hadn't Altman told him anything about it?

There was a sound like something heavy hitting the wall and falling to the floor, followed by the crunch of breaking wood, and then something like heavy metal being dragged across the floor.

Ericka held her breath, her ears pricked up. But everything stopped almost immediately. Silence enveloped the unit once again.

Ericka's heart pounded. After a moment of caution, she closed her eyes, trying to convince herself that this was a different time.

If there was someone living in another unit on this floor and they were a cruel person who liked to torture animals, she would file a strong complaint with Altman and force the man to report to the police.

Ericka gathered her courage, slowly rose, and stepped out of the room. The baseball bat clutched tightly in her hand.

She approached the door without removing the propped chair and pressed her palm against the cold door.

Ericka peered through the peep hole and noticed the emptiness outside her door.

There was no one there; even the corridor lights were bright enough for a floor that was supposed to be unoccupied.

Ericka finally returned to bed, pulling the covers up to her chest. Her eyes opened, staring at the ceiling.

Outside, the wind rustled across the empty balcony, creating a low whistle that barely sounded like a whisper.

That first night in that isolated apartment, Ericka realized something bittersweet: she might have escaped Daniel, but the fear never truly left.

Erica pulled the blanket over her head and sobbed into it.

Damn Daniel!