Her

The crackling echo seems to be coming from somewhere above Jaime's bedroom. She has been hearing the sounds for weeks now. Ever since moving in, in fact. But no matter what she tries, the cause can not be found.

She had thought, at first, that it was the sound of the heating and cooling vents expanding and contracting, but the superintendent had checked them, and they seemed to be okay. Even though they would give off the odd 'pop' or 'bang', he saw no reason for the sound that Jaime had described.

And now the noise has entered the vents.

"Rats," she says to the empty apartment, standing on a kitchen chair trying to see into the vent. "I'll have that super's head if I have rats," Jaime growls, picking up the phone.

"Mister Mitchell?" Jaime asks as the call is answered. "Mister Mitchell, I have rats in my vents."

"What do you mean, no, I don't?" Jaime barks at the condescending voice on the other end of the line. "I'm telling you that I can hear them scratching around in there."

"No, I haven't seen them." She replies, frustration growing. "Droppings? No, I haven't seen dropping either," she fires back at the superintendent. "That's your job! Not mine!"

"I pay for the privilege," Jaime spits the word into the receiver, "of having you do your damn job!"

"Hello?" Jaime says into the humming receiver. "Hello!?"

Jaime screams a long string of profanity as she smashes the receiver against the phone base, trying to destroy the super in the process.

Then the noise comes again, louder and closer this time. Jaime stares up at the vent, her anger ebbing slightly. "Okay, Jaime," she says to herself. "It's time for a little girl power."

Jaime goes to the kitchen and gets a screwdriver from the drawer and returns to the vent. She climbs back up onto the kitchen chair and looks through the grating, trying to see inside.

"This is stupid," Jaime says as she starts taking the screws out of the vent cover. "If I get bitten by anything, I'll have that Mitchell's balls for earrings."

Jaime pulls her phone from her pocket, turns on the LED, and points it into the vent. "What the," she asks as the light goes three feet in and then stops as if swallowed by the dark. Then the dark moves, and Jaime is looking into two blank, staring eyes.

Screaming, Jaime falls back as the eyes start coming closer. And sitting on the floor, she watches as the twisted shape of a woman forces its way out of the vent and into the room.

Jaime crawls away until her back is against the wall, trying to avoid the other's eyes as it approaches with its jerky, spasmodic gate. "Why!?" Jaime screams, trying to understand what is happening. Then, she remembers. And as the things greasy, wet hair covers her face, she understands.

MDBlagdon