Don't Invite Her In

It was around one am when Samuel returned home to his quiet, and much too empty studio sized apartment. His shift at the bar had run late, and all he could think about was sprinting home in time to catch a few rerun episodes of his favorite show on his beatdown, box TV. It didn’t take much to satisfy Samuel’s after work routine, he was an easy man to understand, with simple needs. At least, this is what he liked to think.

He lived alone. Pets were not allowed in his apartment, so he had settled on the simple companionship of a goldfish for the time being. He and Sandy lived a nice and quiet life for the most part. When he wasn’t working at the bar, he was often studying for class. The idea of making something of himself, and leaving his desolate, little town, was the only thing that drove him to keep pushing through college. When he thought of it that way, his little four to midnight bartending job would do just fine for now.

The night air began to settle as Samuel made his way through the front doors of the building. The complex wasn’t that big, but the building housed as many apartments as it could possibly fit, breaking a few codes along the way. There were six floors, and each floor had twelve equally spaced apartments. No less, no more. There was an ugly blood colored carpet that ran along all the floors, and Samuel had long decided that if he was allowed to ever give feedback on his living experience, then the carpet would be the first thing he would change. It wasn’t as if the building was dirty or anything, but it did have its flaws, some worse than others. And in Samuel’s opinion, the carpet, by far, was the worst thing about the building.

The building security guard was loudly snoring per usual when Samuel shuffled past his post. Not even the sound of the crude front door alarm ringing could stir him from his sleep. He really didn’t understand why the guard was employed anyway, but on the off chance that he caught him actually working, Samuel would say hello. He never left his post, and you had to go through hell to get in contact with him, not that anyone ever really needed him. The tenants were usually good about not causing a commotion, and they tended to solve their own problems.

“Still sleeping on the job,” Samuel chuckled. His voice was barely above a whisper, but he was sure that he didn’t need to be cautious. Jarvis wouldn’t hear a thing.

“The building could be on fire, and you probably wouldn’t even notice big guy,”

Apartment 222 was located on the second floor at the very end of the hall, nestled in a little corner off to the right all to itself. This was how Samuel preferred it. He had been calling 222 his home for the past two years, and he didn’t see himself changing it any time soon. However, that didn't mean that he had to like to design choices, or the overall appeal of the building. It was cheap. It had been a miracle that he could even get in in the first place, but after he got settled, he knew that it was the perfect place to call home. His job was only a few minutes away, and school didn’t take long to reach by car. It was in a nicer part of town, near plenty of his regular bar customers. On multiple occasions, he would see a lot of his patrons out doing mundane things. He wasn’t too concerned with keeping his work separate from his everyday life, because they were essentially the same life. He considered himself to be friendly, even going so far as to befriend everyone who frequented the bar. They knew everything about him, and he knew everything about them.

Samuel was about as average as any other twenty two year old young adult was. He stood about 5’10 on a good day, which fit his naturally muscular build. His eyes were a chocolate, cloudy brown, and the tight black colis that decorated his head hung about in every direction. Attention was never what he wanted when he walked into a room, but to his surprise he was really popular with the female crowd. There wasn’t a night at the bar when he didn’t attract the attention of at least one woman. Typically, he would see them again, or even go as far as to bring the woman home with him. That’s just how nights at the bar worked. It was his usual routine. He was great with faces, and even better with names, so he was taken aback when he saw an unfamiliar face exiting the elevator, as he ascended the last flight of stairs that led to his floor.

Who is that?

He couldn’t help himself from wondering.

She was extremely thin. Thinner than how Samuel liked his women, yet a different beauty entirely. Her knotted dark brown hair hung in waves down to her waist, and covered most of her face, save for her nose, and puckered, red lips. She looked healthy from what Samueal was able to see of her face. Her features weren’t anything special, but that could very much be the reason why he wanted to see as much of her as he could. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on exactly why though. The black shawl that she had draped around her shoulders covered her entire body, except for her bare feet which almost appeared to have a ghastly, bluish tint to them, in contrast to the olive tones in her face. She was dressed straight out of a 90s horror film, but Samuel figured she had just stepped out of her apartment for a moment. However, he knew everyone that lived in the building, even the little old lady on the first floor that hardly left her home. This woman was new, and to Samuel, this was an inviting occurrence. How often was it that he got to bump into somebody new? It was as if the universe had heard his thoughts, and granted him this small simbolence of unfamiliarity. Samuel found himself approaching the mystery lady with the thought of saying hello hanging in the back of his head. He needed to, or at least he wanted to know who she was. He hadn’t seen any moving vans at the complex, nor had he heard anything about someone new moving in.

“New here?”, he asked, his question bouncing down the empty hall. The light that was illuminating the woman seemed to flicker as he heard the quietest, yet most gentle voice speak. The mystery woman never once turned in his direction, never once stopped; but she did mumble a quiet

“No.”

How could that be?

Samuel knew he had never seen her before, especially not on the second floor, or any floor for that matter. She didn’t have on any shoes, nor did she have a key with her, as far as he could see. It wasn’t his place to pry, and Samuel knew this. He was determined for answers, but chose to simply just let her be.

He nodded his head, and decided to leave well enough alone. Obviously she was not interested in conversing , and what harm could it cause to not know her identity? Potentially a lot. It also didn’t help that Samuel had no idea where she was headed. No floor. No apartment number. Nothing. Samuel was willing to gamble the odds if he could at least get her name. That’s all he really wanted.

Her name.

This seemed like the best course of action in Sameul’s head, but of course he couldn’t leave it alone. He thought for a moment before he chose what to say next. If he was going to attempt to speak to her again, he wanted to at least say the right thing. Afterall, who was to say that she would even give him a second chance to speak.

“If you need anything I live in 222, down here at-,”

He paused before finishing his sentence, debating on if he should even extend the invitation or not. At this point the woman still hadn’t even bothered to look in his direction. She continued her walk down the hall, her shawl slowly dragging against the red carpet below her. She looked damp, at least that’s the best way that Samuel could describe it. There was something about her that was beckoning him to call out to her again. As much as she was a mystery to him, the woman was just as much off putting in Samuel’s mind. Before he could stop himself he was calling to her again, making one last attempt at soliciting a response.

“Don’t hesitate to come by.”

This time she stopped.

Slowly, Samuel watched as she turned around, and cracked a small, but soft smile, her bright red lips peeling back. Samuel didn’t know if he was expecting fangs, or no teeth, but he was glad to see that she at least was interested in the offer. The outlines of her eyes were now visible, and for a moment Samuel felt safe looking at the bottoms of her eyes. He couldn’t fully see her eyes, but he imagined that they were the most beautiful he had ever seen.

“Thank you for inviting me inside, I will.” She replied. Her voice wasn’t a melody. It didn’t carry the softest ring. It was pronounced, and it bounced around Samuel’s head as he registered her response.

Satisfied with himself, Samuel proceeded to take a step towards her, however the woman turned over her shoulder, and carried on to her destination, never once turning back. Never once speaking another word. Where she was going, he didn’t know, but he watched as she disappeared into the stairwell, the automatic door swinging shut behind her. A low sigh escaped Samuel, and he turned to enter his own apartment. Of course it didn’t go as he imagined, he had to lose sometimes.

The apartment space was poorly decorated, but it was enough to satisfy Samuel’s needs. There was a small TV sitting on a second hand school desk that he found while out dumpster diving one afternoon. A run down grey couch was seated in front of it, and behind that was a tiny scratched dining room table that only had one chair with an awkward stain. Convinced that he would upgrade later, he was never concerned with having the newest, or fanciest things. If it worked, it was good enough for him.

The early morning hours was the time of day that Samuel enjoyed most. He would spend his time reading, watching his favorite show, or studying for any exams. He minded his business, and for the most part his neighbors minded theirs. There was never anything that changed in his routine. He did the same things everyday, and so did the other residents. However, every morning around four am, the mood of the building always shifted.

It wasn’t a shift for the better either.

First it began with the noises. Normally, Samuel never had to complain about noisy neighbors, but for some reason at four am, his surrounding neighbors, upstairs, and downstairs, would begin to get louder than usual. It would start as a low groan, and then turn into a full on rumble. The few photos Samuel had on the walls would shudder under the sound, and he would find himself begging the sounds to stop. The Sounds would gurgle, and hiss. It didn’t make sense, and Samuel could never pinpoint what he was hearing, but he did know that he would rather deal with anything than the sounds that happened at four am.

Tonight was different though.

There was no noise.

There were no loud groans, there was no loud shuddering.

It was eerily still throughout the entire building.

No creaking, no muffled noises Just the sounds of Samuel breathing, and his own thoughts.

His thoughts seemed to be the loudest noise in the room.

He tossed, and turned on his secondhand mattress, sleep escaping him entirely as he lay awake, counting the number of bumps that resided on his ceiling. The noises had become something of a lullaby that would soothe him, but their absence was keeping him wide awake. He secretly wished to hear the sounds that baffled him, so much so that he got up, and wandered into his living room. The soft padding of his toes on the hardwood echoed against everything. To say that Samuel was not afraid would be a lie, he was terrified, an unusual behavior for the man who normally wasn’t bothered by a thing.

Something just wasn’t sitting right with him. Before he knew it, he found himself checking the empty hall outside. The unfashionable, and pee stain yellow lights acted as his only guide. Not a single soul was moving. Although he preferred the quiet, this wasn’t feeling like a quiet, normal night. He quietly closed his front door, and walked down to the building’s front desk. As a child he was never afraid of the dark. Ghosts weren’t real, and everything could always be solved with a rational explanation if you looked hard enough. Things just didn’t go bump in the night without being bumped first. He didn’t concern himself with fiction, but sure enough for a moment he found himself wondering why he felt as if something, not someone, was following him down the hall as he walked.

Sure enough when he made it to the guard desk, the man whose name tag read “Jarvis”, was still fast asleep. His snores alternated between a chainsaw, and a purring kitten. It was safe to say that there was no warning before the switch happened between the two.Samuel didn’t know if he ever got up from his post, but the thought of asking him to escort him back to his apartment flashed in his mind for a second. He didn’t need Jarvis, but he sure would take his help right about now.

“No”, he thought.

He was a grown man, and he didn’t need an escort. He was surely only psyching himself, and would sleep peacefully as soon as he returned home. With that only motivation, Samuel turned, thinking that maybe he should follow Jarivs’ lead and head to bed. Afterall, he did have classes, and work would follow shortly after the next day.

He made his way back to apartment 222, and tried to let sleep overtake him. The walk back had gone off without a hitch, and for a moment it even seemed like the eerie feelings had seemingly melted away. Without much thought to anything else he laid down, and tried to fall into slumber. He tossed on his mattress until he found a comfortable crevice to settle into, and for a moment his breathing began to slow, until finally, he was resting.

In Samuel’s mind, all was well as he slept, the hours seeming to fly by until six am approached, and the sun was set to begin rising in minutes. He still hadn’t moved an inch, but underneath him, something indeed was moving.

At six am, while Samuel was still fast asleep, his bed began to move ever so slightly. It was slow at first, but gradually the slow rocking motions turned into a rhythmic sway. The movements didn’t disturb the sleeping man above, and he continued to snore on, his breathing patterns never faltering. To him, it seemed as though nothing was wrong.

But underneath him, something was happening.

It was as if something invisible was scooting across the mattress, and unbeknownst to Samuel, he was in the path of the invisible force. The swaying had been going on for at least thirty minutes at this point, but Samuel didn’t feel a thing. His snoring, and the swaying of his mattress caught time, and everything seemed to be moving in one fluid motion. It was enough to lullaby anybody to sleep.

It continued to move, all the way to the end of the mattress, coming to an abrupt stop near the edge of the mattress. The lump waitied, and for fifteen more minutes, it stayed just like that.. Samuel didn’t stir, his breathing still staying just as it was before.

A perfect pattern.

Nothing mattered to him, and that's why he didn’t notice the bluish tinted hand that began to slide out from between the mattress, and the box spring. The bony fingers made their way up the side of the mattress until they were within fingertips reach of Samuel’s sleeping body. He still didn’t stir. The fingers searched, feeling across the sheets until they rested on his warm, bare, arm. The fingers did nothing more.

They caressed him, and he still didn’t stir.

The fingers glided across his olive skin almost as if they were trying to soothe him. Back and forth they ran, never once breaking contact, never once stopping that singular motion. All the while Samuel slept peacefully, his breathing still never faltering.

The first signs of light faintly began to peak through the window. The morning had finally arrived, and the building would soon be waking up to begin the day. Samuel woke, first straining to adjust to the light, then letting out a loud sigh as he became acclimated to the start of his day. His thoughts began to process, and for some reason the mystery woman from last night came to the forefront of his mind. He thought of the features of her face and the way she was dressed. The oddity of it all came flooding back to him, and he could not shake her. The sound of her harsh voice rang through his head, and for a moment he wondered if he would see her again tonight after his shift at the bar, floating through the halls.

Little did he know that he would not see her again, but she would certainly see him again.

After all, he had already invited her in.