The Strange Case of the Jackson Building

Chapter 3 - Conception

Chapter Three

Conception

Petra was quick to grab her luggage and sprint to the elevator doors that stood right at the middle of the entrance, determined not to look back at the old lady again. She pressed the button and patiently waited for it to come to her rescue, listening to its old engine as it descended from whatever floor it had been left before.

She forgot to turn the entrance’s lights on, but she didn’t regret it. She hoped the old lady couldn’t be able to see her in the dark. And it was pretty dark, the only shred of timid light coming from the lamps on the street.

If she wasn’t already so spooked from her previous encounter, she would’ve been by the interior of her building. It was so gloomy and uninviting, the walls painted with a dark shade of blue that did not add a single inch of beauty to the space. On the right side of the elevator was a locked door, one she assumed was reserved for maintenance. On the left side she could see a large glass case imbedded on the wall, probably meant for its inhabitants to leave various notices and documents relating to the whole building. On the corner, barely visible through all the darkness, were the stairs that would lead to the first floor. Apparently, no one lived on the ground one.

The elevator finally reached its destination and, with difficulty, she threw her bags inside and stepped in, waiting for the ancient and heavy door to close behind her. Pressing the number to her floor, number five, Petra noticed how old the elevator not only looked, but also sounded and felt. Behind her stood a wide mirror, where she noticed how messy and disheveled her long, straight black hair really was and how exhausted and pale she looked, her dark eyes sunken into her face like she was a starvation victim. Petra shrugged and turned her back to it. She hated mirrors.

As the elevator took its time travelling through all five floors, Petra took a deep breath and couldn’t help but smile. She was much calmer now. She felt safe. And she also felt a bit foolish for letting the rants of an old woman distress her so. She was probably just a poor old lady with a mind too affected by her age. Now that she thought about it, secure and warm inside of the elevator, bathed in its light and so close to her new home, she actually felt embarrassed that she had let the woman affect her at all.

Just the crazy ramblings of a spent old woman. Nothing more.

When the elevator finally stopped and she managed to get herself and her bags out of it, what awaited her was more darkness. She struggled to find the switch that would turn on the light in the narrow corridor.

There were no windows. Not an inkling of natural light ever entered that hallway.

She could see five doors, five homes in total on the fifth floor. As she walked the cold and somber corridor, she couldn’t help but notice how silent it was, the only sounds to be heard were those of her footsteps echoing against the naked walls.

For some reason, it unnerved her. Were all her neighbors already sleeping? She wished she could hear the homely and comfortable sounds of conversations, of objects being handled, music or even the low mumblings of a TV.

Petra was quick to find her door, the one with the worn out “D” written on it. Her heart was beating with anticipation as she slid the long key through the spent lock and opened the door to her new home.

Inside, more shadow and silence greeted her. She was afraid she was going to have to get used to it. Once again, she turned on the light and closed the door behind her.

There was not a single light turned on inside, not a single sound, which was odd, she noted, as she was supposed to be sharing the apartment with another girl – or so the landlady had said.