Fissured

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February 25th

Evening

The typical canvas of a modern building rose above our heads. The top was lost in the distance, but several lit rooms of the apartment complexes let us know that the world around us was still alive.

Isaac was the first one to question why the neighborhood was so quiet and why no other soul peeked its nose out into the night. Everything was eerily quiet and the night was colder than usual. But our purpose here wasn't to question the odd, silent melody. 

"Care to tell me what we are doing here?"

Isaac huffed out again. For the past hour he was desperately annoyed at my awkward silence and deep, thoughtful gazes that I sent. He still followed like an obedient puppy, though, and that somehow made me want to stay quiet even further. But alas, we are here, at the beginning once again. 

"Stacy's apartment. One of the girl's that gifted me the card. We're going to ask what she knows about the person that gave it to her and..."

"...Find out how it is."

I nodded in agreement. 

There was no way to predict when the killer would strike again. Whoever it is, they've been quiet, and we ought to use that in our advantage. 
I made the first step towards the building, the remains of frozen rain on the concrete crunching softly under my boots. Once inside, I exhaled at the warmth that enveloped me. The building was completely functional, relatively new, but despite that the interior wasn't the cleanest of sights. There was mud all over the floor, dried up water and a smell that reminded me of the everlasting scent of piss in the city. It was like a fashionably designed sewer where mutated rats could live. 

Looking up the stairs, I briefly recalled the one time when Stacy called me and Emilia over. She specified that her floor was the 6th in line and that her apartment door didn't have a number or  name tag. Instead it had a blotched part where the paint was scraped off and the shape took the form of a former, small and metal plate. I proceeded to follow the instructions. When we reached the 6th floor, I was slightly panting and the sweat under my winter clothes made me feel overly drenched. 

I wouldn't mind a nice bath right now.

On the way, I informed Isaac what he should look for, but when we found the door that looked similar to the one described in my memory, we were both confused; it indeed din't have a name plate, or the number of the apartment, but there was no place on the wooden surface where paint was scrapped off. 

In fact, the door looked freshly painted. 

I could have been wrong, but the last fact made me want to believe that this was Stacy's apartment. Either way, there is no point in hesitating. 
I reached for the bell, about to ring it, when Isaac's hand grabbed mine and he pulled me back. 

"I'll do it."

Confused, I shrugged at his sudden wariness. Instead of ringing the bell, though, Isaac knocked on the door. His strange demeanor had me closing in on him from the back, peering just enough from behind him so I could see what was going on. There was no answer from the other side. There was also no sound that came form inside of the apartment.
Once again, Isaac knocked on the door, rougher and stronger this time. I looked around, suspiciously, looking to see if any of the neighbors would happen to peek out of their homes. There was nothing but utter silence. 

"Stay close."

Isaac grumbled. I almost  missed the slight movement and the black object that suddenly emerged from the pocket of his coat.  A gun was skillfully handled by his masculine hands. He released the safety trigger and swiftly reached for the door knob. Initially, I was shocked to find out he had managed to sneak around a gun, but then I was surprised at how the door of Stacy's apartment was opened without a problem. 

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