The Dark Somnium - The Previous Tenant of My Apartment Left a Survival Guide | Scary Stories from The Internet

Episode Date: July 22, 2026

Hello everyone! I hope you have a great weekend! here is a long video for you all that is a guest narration from Romnex featuring myself, autumn ivy, spirit voices and Dusklight Radio! Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See https://pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

I moved in with my boyfriend yesterday. We've been together for five years now, and we're old and wise enough to settle down and finally leave our parents' houses. He just turned 24, and I'm 22. He's the love of my life. His name is Jamie, and I couldn't be happier to be living with him. When we decided to make the leap, we spent two months looking into flats and houses. We couldn't afford to buy yet, so renting was our only option.

But the prices were astronomical. For our budget, we would have been lucky to get a box room and a stove. Jamie works for a local 24-hour fast food restaurant, and I'm training to be a teacher. The early stages of training don't pay much, and I owe a lot in student loans, so finances are tough. We had almost given up hope until we found our flat. It was nothing special, but to us, it was a palace, a spacious two-bedroom apartment with views of a city park, a balcony, and local conveniences. It was in a tower block in a not so nice area. But neither of us had been wealthy growing up. We weren't fussy, just grateful to be together. The advert was sweetened by the deposit

free option and open-ended tenancy. The landlord was happy to sign a five-year contract if we wanted. That sort of thing never happens in the city. We were told that along with no deposit, we would also have no inspections, but would be liable to pay for. any damage when we ended the tenancy. I'd never heard of anything quite like it. We knew that for our budget and location, we weren't going to get any better. We snapped the place up fast, not even bothering to view it. It felt like our only chance. Move-in day rolled around quickly, and yesterday we got the keys to our first home together. It was such a strange feeling. The day was chaos, getting our stuff in and up in the lift. We were flat number 42.

on the seventh floor. The items we couldn't get in the lift had to be taken up all the stairs by the removal men. I think they were grateful we weren't any higher, but I still wish we had been able to give them a better tip. In the evening, we settled down on our second-hand sofa, given to us by a cousin of a friend, and watched some TV.

We smoked cigarettes on the balcony, looking at the park, and fell asleep on our mattress on the floor super early because we had no energy to put the bed together yet, and Jamie had work at a hideous time of the morning. We slept soundly last night. I felt safe and happy. I don't think that feeling is coming back any time soon, and it's all due to the note I found this morning.

I found it in the kitchen, having a coffee, hours after Jamie had left for his early shift at work. It was in one of the cupboards that were fixed to the wall. There were a bunch of useful items from the previous tenant, spare keys to the flat, a set of tiny keys that locked and unlocked the windows. Necessary for those with kids this high up. Spare a smoke alarm batteries and a folded up piece of paper. The note was handwritten with new occupier of flat 42 in beautiful cursive on the blank side.

I opened it up and sat down to read. I can't really describe it to you. So I'm going to copy. it out below. Dear new occupier, firstly, welcome to your new home. I lived here before you for 35 years with my husband. Unfortunately, he had an incident at home recently that I'd rather not discuss that claimed his life. My sister has now decided I can't keep up with the demands of the property and has insisted that I move in with her and her husband. I was reluctant at first, but the stairs do kill me at this age, and without Bernie, it's filled with sadness.

Anyway, when you've lived somewhere for as long as I have, it feels like a person that you know. You understand its personality and what makes it tick. I thought it was probably pertinent that I impart some of that knowledge on you. It's a wonderful home, honestly. I've lived through the best and worst years, and leaving it behind is very emotional. but if you are to survive and get the best out of it, then there are some steps you need to follow. 1. The landlord will never bother you. He doesn't visit, call, or communicate in any way. But make sure to pay your rent in a timely fashion always. I've only dealt with him once in 35 years.

And let's just say, I never missed another rent day. Any repairs required you speak to the agent you rented the place with. 2. Do not use the communal lift between 111 and 333am. Just don't do it. This step is vital if you are to have a happy life here. It really is life or death. Don't do it. This has cost me and many others in the building greatly, and I would rather not elaborate on why you shouldn't do this. Just please don't do it. I cannot stress this enough. 3. When you hear the strange animal noises coming from flat 48, don't question it. Mr. Prentice lives there and he's a lovely chap. Don't be afraid to say hello to him in the corridor or on the stairs. He's old school, so he never risks the lift. But whatever you do, don't check on him when you hear the noises. You'll know when you hear them.

4. If you ever come across a window cleaner on the balcony, ignore him. He may seem like the nicest fellow you've ever had trying to sell you something at the door, but it really is best that you don't engage. He will go away if you ignore him, but he tries pretty hard the first few times, so you'll need some resilience. Whatever you do, don't offer him anything. No money, no hot drink. Five, don't leave food scraps out, bin or refrigerate them immediately.

If you have small animals, it is imperative that you watch them eat and take away any leftover food immediately after they are done. This and rule two go hand in hand. The things forage all day and seem to really love animal feed. You don't want them in your flat, I promise. You can leave what you want out between 111.133 a.m. So you may want to feed your pets then. 6. Don't communicate with any neighbor.

who claim to come from flats 65 through 72. These flats suffered a fire in the late 80s that devastated the whole floor. All the residents died in their homes. The building was mostly council-owned at the time, and they never bothered to renovate the flats. They've been empty ever since, but every now and again, someone will knock at your door claiming to live in one of these flats

and ask to borrow some sugar. They will seem entirely average, but you must shut and lock the door immediately. I installed two extra security bolts to avoid these fuckers. I don't like to swear at my age, but they really are fuckers. Seven. Simple one for you here. Keep a weapon in each room.

Sometimes you follow all these steps and something still slips through the net. Better to be safe than sorry. Eight. The building has a committee that will try and get you to join. It's one of those neighbors groups about improving living conditions for all residents. It's a nice group, and the lady who runs it, Terry from Flat 26, is a fantastic neighbor. By all means, get involved. But I wouldn't recommend babysitting Terry's two children.

She'll ask you, because the poor woman needs a break. But if you accept, don't say I didn't warn you. 9. Stray hairless cats sometimes roam in the hallway. I know they're supposedly a special, expensive breed, but they don't belong to anyone. They're mostly harmless, but don't pick them up. Not unless you see one of those neighbors that claim to live in 65 through 72. Then grab the cat and lock it inside with you.

It'll burn your skin a little, but the cats are friendly and I wouldn't want to see them hurt. 10. There's no way to fix the damp patch on the ceiling in the bedroom. Sometimes it will turn a deep crimson and look quite concerning, but please try not to be alarmed. It doesn't drip. It doesn't get any bigger, and it's been there longer than I have. The landlord won't budge on it, according to the agents. I flagged it many times, even called the police the first night it changed color. But it was a waste of time, and it will be for you too.

It's best to ignore it. 11. You can trust the postman. His name is Ian Flanders, and he's been the postman since before I moved in. He has his own key to the main door and delivers post to the door every morning. at 8.54. I can't include everything here, or it would become a novel. But if you have any questions, Ian will help you. 12. Finally, the first few weeks are the worst. You'll feel like you've made a mistake. I'm sure reading this, you already do. But if you can get through the first few weeks, it really is a lovely block to live in. Every property has its quirks, and this one is a little

extra special. But you can be truly happy here if you just take my advice. I wish you all the best. I really do. Yours truly. Mrs. Prudence Hemmings. I don't really know what to think after reading the note. Hopefully it was some sort of joke. But the agent had said the previous tenant was an elderly lady. And I can't see anyone named Prudence Hemmings attempting to play practical jokes on someone they'd never met. There were also parts of the note I couldn't disprove. There was indeed a large damp patch above the bed that me and Jamie had already discussed reporting. No crimson, but it definitely existed. I'd also commented on a beautiful sphinx cat roaming the halls as we were moving in.

I started to get seriously freaked out. Our dream, our beautiful little home had just become a source of fear and confusion. I checked the time and it was 9-14. Damn it. out of time to catch postman Ian. When I opened the door to check, sure enough, two letters addressed to a Mrs. Hemming sat on the doorstep. At about 1115, my worst fears were truly confirmed

when a friendly middle-aged-looking man carrying window-cleaning equipment knocked on my balcony door, I ignored him. I didn't want to take the risk until I'd spoken to Jamie and showed him the note. I'd text him already to rush home. I felt bad as the man wrapped his knuckles against the door for over ten minutes. But honestly, the longer it went on, the more I was terrified. My windows were sparkling, and due to our lack of curtains, I couldn't even hide from his gaze. I felt so exposed.

He stayed for a total of 30 minutes exactly, and never once did he stop looking at me or knocking. He shouted the occasional ultra-friendly line or humble request for a beverage in the heat, through the door, but I did my best to avoid eye contact. When he finally left, I looked outside every window in the flat, but I couldn't see him on any of the other balconies or see any equipment suggesting he was around. He had vanished completely. Jamie still hadn't text me back. He must have been having a rough shift. It was a Friday, and they were always busy. It wasn't often that he didn't reply. He was due home in around an hour anyway. I read the note probably hundreds of times over.

I tortured myself reading it for the next hour, desperately waiting for Jamie to come through the door and tell me it was all crazy and I should relax. I hoped for that so much. But Jamie never came. His shift should have finished around midday, but by 2 p.m. he still wasn't home. I panicked. I cried. I left over 100 voice messages on his phone but got nowhere.

I finally decided it had been long enough. that calling his work wouldn't embarrass him, and his boss told me that he had never turned up for his shift. I thought about it. What could have happened? And then it hit me. Jamie Schiff started at 4 a.m. today. He would have left the flat at 3.15

and taken the lift down the stairs. I don't know what to do. I've tried to convince myself it was all just a big joke. Maybe Jamie wrote the note and got his boss in on it. A voice in my head kept telling me that he couldn't write like that if he tried. But I had to attempt to fool myself. It's getting late, and he still isn't home. What if it's all true?

I think we made a big mistake. So much has happened in the last 24 hours. I'm so stressed, and I've barely slept since I discovered that Jamie was missing. It's starting to make me feel a little twitchy, but I thought I'd better update you guys. I was overwhelmed by all the suggestions you gave me, and have taken more than a few of them on board. I'm definitely going to be getting a huge planter full of sage for the balcony, and I did spill a little salt in my doorway. I'm sorry to disappoint, but that didn't help at all. There's nothing I'm following quite like Mrs. Hemming's rules, though.

I'd followed them to the letter so far, and lo and behold, I'm still alive. That's not to say it hasn't been tough. I'll start from the beginning. I was going crazy. And a few hours after my last post, Jamie still hadn't returned. He had been gone for almost 24 hours. His work has called me multiple times. I don't know what to say, so I just keep ghosting the calls.

I was bang in the middle of the danger time when I decided checking the lift had to be my first step. But I wasn't going to break that rule. I waited. I waited desperately for 3.34 to come. And I'm ashamed to say that when it did, I remained paralyzed to our sofa for almost half an hour before I found the nerve to leave the flat. It was 402 when I finally reached the lift.

The lift in this building is old and rickety. It hasn't been updated in a very long time and has likely been here as long as the building. Its big clunky buttons stared back at me as I glared at them, hoping for some sort of answer or clue. My heart thumped and I was overcome with a feeling of dread, but nothing came of it. any of it. It was hopeless. I stepped inside the lift, rode it up and down a few floors, and searched the entire perimeter with a phone torch for anything I could find. I found nothing. Jamie had completely disappeared, sobbing and exhausted. I rode back to floor seven and turned my key in flat 42, the perfect home that felt anything but home at that point. I sat at the cheap flat-packed

dining table we'd managed to put together on moving day and cried. My hand shaking as I held my phone. I was flitting between reading all your comments and contemplating calling the police for an hour, but I decided to call my friend Georgia instead. I needed a real person here. Things were so crazy, I wasn't sure the police would be able to help with what little information I had, but I knew I needed to sound it out with someone. I'll spare you the details again, but I told her everything. She promised she'd be with me in the late morning. She had to take her younger brother to school. I waited anxiously, not before arming every room exactly as advised.

Before I knew it, I looked up at the clock and saw it was 823. I had around half an hour until the postman was due to show up. There was no way I was missing him today. I stood by the door looking vacantly at the wood, like someone in a film who was possessed. The exhaustion was really setting in, but Jamie was all I could think of. Pure adrenaline was keeping me standing.

At 8.52, I opened the door. The next two minutes were the longest of my life. But when I saw him, a wave of relief swept my entire body. Right on cue, 854, the postman. Ian Flanders stood in front of me, a smile that barely hid his concern covering his younger than expected face. He didn't look old enough to have been the postman for over 35 years. but I was too distracted by the answers that I needed from him to care.

You must be the lieutenant. He stated, but in a way that sounded like a question. I struggled with my answer, so I got straight to the point. Mrs. Hemings left me a note. She said to speak to you if... Can I come in, dear? I think we need to chat. I ushered Ian in, my hand's still shaking as I flapped them in the direction of the sofa,

gesturing for him to sit down. I shoved the now slightly crumpled note into his lap and waited. I'm glad Prue still thinks that highly of me. I miss that old girl. He said with a coy smile as he reached the end of the note. Can you help me or not? I had no time for his ego trip over a moved-on neighbor. I can help, but I can't stop for long, so it'll have to be quick.

I've walked these halls delivering the post for 40 years, and I've seen it all. Everything Prue is mentioned and more. What do you need to know? He said. Ian was nothing like what I expected. The note made me feel like he was going to be a kindly old granddad type figure, but I couldn't have been more wrong. Postman Ian spoke with a thick city accent and wore a heavy gold chain around his tattooed neck.

He had dyed his graying hair boot-polished black. His demeanor was thankfully non-threatening, but extraordinarily cocky. He was the sort of man I imagined in a betting shot. rubbing his grubby hands on notes as he bragged over a win. He didn't ask as he lit a cigarette in my own living room. I didn't question it. We would usually smoke outside, but I wasn't going to argue over technicalities. I grabbed a bowl for the ash and lit one too.

Let's start with the things on the lift. My boyfriend is missing, and he took the lift at quarter past three over 24 hours ago. We hadn't got this note yet. I haven't heard from him since. I need to get him back. I barked at him as if the louder I spoke the more I could influence his answer. But nothing prepared me for what he had said. His skin turned pale, and his harsh-looking face became more sympathetic, as he explained.

He's dead, love. Forget about him now. Only one person has ever come back from the lift at that time of night, and it was Prue herself. After witnessing it, those creatures ripping their victim apart, poor Prue was traumatized. Your boy's gone. Let go for all the rules. He was blunt, but I could tell he felt sorry for me. There must be something I can do, I pleaded.

There are things I've heard to bring back those who are lost, but I've never seen solid proof they work. It would be responsible of me to tell you to do something that might get you killed, too. It's nice here, honest. Just get over him and live the status quo. Sorry if I sound harsh, don't mean to, but you seem like a decent young lady, and I don't want to see you go too soon. I asked about what Mrs. Hemings had seen in the lift, and if they were sure it happened to all who entered it. I refused to believe that Jamie was dead.

There had to be something I could do, and if I knew what I was dealing with, I could be better prepared. It was awful what happened. I wasn't there, but this was what I was told. Little Lila was such a cute kid. She used to open the door and give me a tip when I delivered the post. She was Prue's granddaughter. Lila was her son's little girl, and that night she was staying over for the first time. Prue finally felt confident that she could protect Lila from all the strange things that happened here.

She was wrong. Little Lila had a problem with sleepwalking, and she took a trip into the hallway at half one in the morning. Prue took a little too long to notice the sound she had heard was the front door, and by the time she reached the lift, she saw the creatures dragging Lila's limbs away from her body. She tried to fight them, even killed one, but she couldn't save the little girl. I was hysterical, imagining Jamie's fate. What are the creatures? Have you ever actually seen them? I asked. No one really knows what they are, love.

There's something to do with the building and all its quirks. No one's ever seen them elsewhere. We don't know where they come from, just that they're here. I've seen them a few times over the years, usually when new neighbors have left biscuits down for their cats and dogs or haven't disposed of food waste properly. They're curious little creatures, mostly harmless out of the hours Prue warned you about,

but if they're not fed, they can become quite vicious looking for more food. That's why you have to bend all your scraps. or hide them or pack them or whatever. Just don't leave them out, and don't use the lift at those times, and you're safe from the creatures. They're a little smaller than humans, but they're a similar shape. They come with grotesque rodent-like features, and are far larger than any rodent could be, like rodent children, I suppose. They have two sharp rows of teeth per jaw, and are consistently hungry.

When they eat, they crunch down in a violent and disgusting way, dripping spittle everywhere. Prue said she could hear her granddaughter's bones shatter in those jaws. He went pale at the thought of that, but continued. When they first arrived in the building, there were hundreds. It caused pandemonium amongst the residents. We lost the residents of more than 30 of the individual homes. But the residents fought back and managed to kill all but the strongest minority of them. The creatures left over were incredibly dangerous and seemingly impossible to eradicate,

so the residents struck a deal. a deal that they will be left unharmed and allowed to live in the building in return for the resident's safety at all times. But if anyone wanders into the lift between 1.11 and 3.30 a.m., their fair game. This time frame is the period the creatures are at their most frenzied, and restricting them to the lift was safer for all parties. God help anyone who encounters them during those hours. They've been here ever since, claimed lots of unsuspecting people avoiding the stairs, but nothing like when they first arrived. A few got put down for not holding up their end of the bargain, but we haven't had an incident outside the lift in years. Count yourself lucky you missed that crisis.

Everything here is pretty peaceful right now. I'm sorry about your boyfriend. I really have to go. I'm late for my round. He scrawled his phone number on a bit of paper and handed it to me. Emergency's only. I don't like to be bothered. You can't go.

The note said you would help me! I exclaimed. And I will. When there's something I can help with. I was in shock. I couldn't believe what I was hearing, and I couldn't believe he was leaving me after the information overload and the small ray of hope he had lit inside me,

and then squashed. I'll call the police! I shouted, desperate to feel as if I was solving this somehow. You can try if you want. Ian sighed as he opened the door to leave. It just aggravates the car. creatures, and it isn't going to bring your boy back. Mr. Princess hates when the police come, too. If you want to get any sleep in the next week, then I'd avoid it. Wait a week, report him missing,

and learn to adapt to life, your love, or you'll be dead in days. And with that, he shut the door behind him. I opened it again. I had so much more to ask, but he was gone. No sign of him anywhere in the corridor. Maybe it was me losing my mind. I might be imagining all these things, but no matter how much I willed it, the note was still there. And Jamie still wasn't. Georgia arrived not long after Ian had left. I, of course, asked if she had seen him in the corridor to try and affirm to myself that he was real. But she hadn't.

She looked at me worried and held me as I sobbed and told her what the postman had said about Jamie and the creatures. I wasn't sure she believed me. Even as she read the note, she looked skeptical. If she was skeptical, I wouldn't have blamed her. But she had always been supportive. She sat with me for hours while I'd just sobbed, heartbroken. I was so conflicted as to what to do. I felt insane that I hadn't contacted anybody.

But this note had turned out to be accurate so far. And if the postman was to be trusted, then I should wait. Georgia had been my best friend for many years. She stuck up for me when I was too scared to do it for myself and had always been the brave one of the two of us. I felt safe around her. So after hours of crying and despairing at the way my life had changed in a matter of days, I finally decided to take a nap.

It was early evening and Georgia was watching some TV just there for me if I needed her. Despite the deprivation, I struggled to fall asleep. I tried to imagine Jamie's arms around me, but it became a more painful reminder that they probably never will be again. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity of staring at the damp patch on the ceiling, I drifted off. About three hours ago, I woke up, staring at the goddamn damp patch on the ceiling. I could hear chatting in the living room. I jumped out of bed and walked towards it. Georgia was on the sofa, with the middle-legal.

aged-looking woman, both nursing a cup of tea in the matching mugs that Jamie had got me as a move-in present. My blood boiled, but it wasn't their fault. I cleared my throat to get their attention. Oh, Katie! This is Natalia. She lives upstairs. We got chatting, so I made her a cup of tea. I hope you don't mind. I looked at the dark-haired woman on the sofa, drinking tea from my cup and nodded. Georgia was a sociable idiot with no understanding of when not to be herself.

I wasn't going to lament her for it right now. It was her coping. Of course. Hi, Natalia. What flat do you live in? I tried my very best to be polite. I would have to discuss not bringing people into my home

mid-tragity with Georgia after she had left. But until then, I would be neighborly. Flat 71. It's so nice to meet you. You have a lovely home. Natalia responded. Her lips curled at the corners into a smile that wasn't replicated in her eyes or the rest of her facial expression. She looked at me smugly, with full knowledge that I was aware of the implications of what she had just said.

The rules. The flat number. Every now and again, someone will not get your door claiming to live in one of these flat numbers. and asked to borrow some sugar. They will seem entirely average, but you must shut and lock the door immediately. I installed two extra security bolts to avoid these fuckers. I don't like to swear at my age,

but they really are fuckers. Prue's warning echoed in my mind, and I couldn't take my eyes off Natalia. Something really was off about her. I looked at Georgia, sat on the sofa next to her, and noticed her sweating. It's been hot for a few days, but this was beyond just the ambient temperature. Her entire body was dripping.

Suddenly, she began to pant. Natalia's eyes were locked to mind just like the window cleaners had been. Nothing happened before with the cleaner, except this time the rule had been broken. She was already in the flat. Georgia started to scream as her skin blistered and charred. Her hair fell from her scalp as the skin flayed and lured. melted away from every inch of her. She was being burned alive without a flame in sight.

She scratched frantically at her own melting face, digging into the exposed raw flesh. The sound the person makes when they burn alive is like no other. That will never leave me. I screamed and screamed, but no one came to my door. I tried to grab my phone to call postman Ian, but the wooden surface I'd set my phone down on, burn my fingers to the touch and forced me to recoil.

She was going to set the whole flat alight. My actions needed to be quicker than a phone call. I grabbed hold of the large knife I had set down on the side earlier when weaponizing. The handle blistered my fingers instantly, but I didn't care. I needed to get her out now and help Georgia if I could. I ran towards the dark-haired lady, sweat dripping from my brow the closer I got, and plunged the knife into Natalia's throat. She gripped it and fell to the floor.

She didn't bleed like a normal human. Her insides were black. She was still moving, and I figured it probably wouldn't be long before she stood right back up and tried it again. So I dragged her into the hallway, ready to bolt the door. As we reached the entrance of the corridor,

one of the cats was waiting, hissing at her semi-conscious body. I caught her eyes fixate on it as I dumped her on the floor. I grabbed the cat, pulled him inside, wincing as its skin caused more burns on my lower arms, shut the door, and watched through the peephole. She got up and held her hand to the wound, cauterizing it, and walking off towards the lift, as if she hadn't been injured at all. I dropped the cat by that point, but every bit of naked skin it had touched throbbed and burned for at least an hour. Georgia hadn't been as lucky as Natalia with injury recovery.

I anonymously called an ambulance for her. I couldn't believe it, but she was still breathing. She was badly burned and her life wouldn't be the same again. But she was alive. And for that, I was grateful. It sounds awful, but I left her at the park across the road from the building. with no phone or ID. She's my best friend and I want to be there,

but if I own up to involvement and injuries that bad, they'll suspect me, and I'll lose the already slim chance that Jamie might be savable. It doesn't mean I don't care about Georgia. But she's alive. I won't believe Jamie isn't until I see it. So now I'm alone again, in the flat, conflicted about what to do.

I want to leave so badly, but this was mine and Jamie's first home together. If he's alive and I can save him, then I want it to be here for him to come back to. And if he's dead and the postman is right, then I don't know if I can leave his memory behind. There's only one person I can think to help me right now. So tonight I'm going to do some research. Hunt down an address and tomorrow morning, I'm going to visit Prudence Hemmings. I didn't get much sleep last night either. The lack of sleep is making me wonder whether all these things happening are in my mind or not.

But I'm reminded every time I see that damn note that it's all real. I spent hours last night searching for anything I could about Prudence Hemmings. If she had lived in a big, creepy mansion, I imagine she would have been easy to find. But us folk who live in tower blocks aren't so well documented. No one cares about our lives. no matter how extraordinary. I found an article about missing person Lila Hemings. It suggested that she went missing under the care of her grandmother

while playing in the park opposite the flats early in the morning. Interviews with her parents stated that they had both disowned prudence. Despite the many years that had passed since Lila's death slash disappearance, her parents appeared to have remained unforgiving of Prue. There was no mention of her on either of their social media accounts, and she appeared to have no involvement with the children they had acquired since. Searches for the Hemings family and the local area were equally dead ends. I looked at Link after Link, desperate to find something,

but they all started to blur into one. Until finally I saw something. In obituary for Bernard Bernie Hemings, who had fallen from the tower block in unexplained circumstances after being diagnosed with dementia months before his death. I was surprised it hadn't made bigger news. It had only been about a year. There were no details of where to find them,

but his wife Prudence and her sister Bridget were listed as contacts to find out details about the funeral. It's scary what you can do with the internet these days. But just with those phone numbers, I was able to put them into a reverse directory and find an address for Bridget and Tony Bishop, the sister and brother-in-law that Prudence was supposedly living with. About 4 a.m. I managed to get some sleep. Not much, though. I was back up and wide awake at around 7 a.m., planning my route and working out my day. I saw a post on social media from one of her relatives that Georgia was identified and is stable. This loosened the knot in my stomach that had been present since I found the note somewhat. At 8.50, I opened the door to my flat, hoping to see Postman Ian. Four minutes passed.

and instead of the postman, an elderly gentleman, made his way down the corridor. He had a walking stick and kind eyes. In his free arm, he carried a small plastic bag containing a newspaper and milk. He smiled and said good morning as he passed. I smiled back. He reminded me of my granddad. I imagined him pulling cola cubes from his pocket for his grandkids and shushing them when their parents weren't looking.

A little further down the corridor, the old man stopped and, turned. He looked me dead in the eyes with a sympathetic expression and spoke. No post on Sundays, if that's what you're waiting for. He smiled knowingly and turned to unlock a front door that, until shut, I couldn't see the number of. When I saw the door close and the number 48 boldly displayed above the peephole, I understood what Prudence had meant. Mr. Prentice did seem to be a lovely person. I sat back in my flat, inside, staring at the various tabs open on my laptop. At about 9.15, the knocking on the balcony door started. A window cleaner was back. I didn't feel half as terrified as I had the first time.

If anything, I was just angry. It took every ounce of restraint I had in my tired body not to engage with him, if only to tell him to fuck off. His genuine seeming request just irritated me. After about 20 minutes of being watched, the knocking started to give me a headache. So I grabbed a bag and left the flat. I decided there was no time like the present. If I was going to turn up on the bishop's doorstep looking for her sister because of the freaky flat she's left behind, then I had to get it over with.

If the address was old or the bishops weren't the people I was looking for, then I was going to look stupid whatever time of day I went. And I couldn't take the window cleaner's eyes anymore. There was something about them. They really do make you want to open the door. I looked at the lift as I entered the communal hallway and decided today I would take the stairs. I couldn't stand to be in a small box that my partner probably died very painfully in. My heart dropped into my stomach just at the sight of it. The stairs were as grotty as the lift. We'd take it them multiple times on move-in day, but I had to be.

hadn't really taken it in the same way I could know. I thought about the rules and all the strange things happening in this building. I looked at the badly painted numbers on the walls as I reach each landing. Nothing in this building is simple. I looked at the numbers. Seven, six, five, five, four, three, four, two, G. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, but my legs were in agreement with my mind that I had definitely just descended more than six flights of stairs. They'd glitched.

I looked at the dusty and poorly lit stairwell from the bottom. It seemed dark, despite the sun pouring in from the glass panel in the main building doors. The note never mentioned glitchy stairs. Maybe I really was losing my mind. I looked at the dusty and poorly lit stairwell from the bottom. As I turned to exit the building, a woman walked in. She was in her late 30s to early 40s and had two small children in tow, one boy and one girl.

I guessed that they were twins. They were both incredibly blonde with deep brown puppy dog-looking eyes and couldn't have been any older than six or seven. They were as close to identical as it gets in twins of different genitals. I'm not a fan of kids, but they were super cute. The lady had a short bob haircut that got longer at the front. It was uniform and dyed a perfectly even Auburn color. I knew it was dyed because her roots were blonde, like her kids.

She looked as tired as I felt. But she pulled herself together when she saw me, running fingers through a part of her hair that she must have missed however early she left this morning, who opened with. Hi, are you here visiting? Trying to make small talk. No, I just moved into Flat 42 on the seventh floor. I was just leaving, actually.

Whereabouts are you? I was desperate to go. I had feared myself up to see Prue, but I didn't want to be rude. Oh, I'm Flat 26. My name's Terry. This is Eddie and Ellie. She gestured to the two small children, hiding shyly behind her skirt. Welcome to the block. If you ever need anything, please feel free to give me a shout.

My name is Katie, but people call me cat too. That's really kind of you. Thank you. I will. Hey, uh, is there something wrong with the stairs? I stopped myself before going into detail. Nothing wrong. They just skip sometimes. She answered, shrugging. Well, I'd love to stop in chat, but I actually really need to get going. It was nice to meet you, Terry. I tried to work out what was wrong with the children as I stepped forward to walk away, still baffled by the stairs. Oh, by the way, we have a residence committee.

You should come to one of our meetings. They're every Tuesday in alternating flats. This Tuesday is at Molly Jefferson's place in Flat 31. Come along. We love to have you. Terry suggested, waving me off. I walked out the doors after my encounter with Terry, feeling. sick. Every minute in this place made the note more real. Every word jumped off the page and into my life, made it more likely that Jamie was really gone. I rode the bus from a stop not far from the flats.

It felt like it took an eternity to reach the little suburban area I was looking for. A five-minute walk away from the bus stop I got off and I was staring at a quaint little bungalow belonging to Bridget and Tony Bishop. I knocked on the door. The lady who opened it was unsteady on her feet. She was probably in her 70s, with wispy white hair neatly scraped back into a bun. Two strands left hanging that just softened her wrinkled face.

She wore a dusty rose-colored dress that hung just below her knees and smelled of stale cigarette smoke. Can I help you? She asked bluntly. My name is Kat. I'm looking for prudence. Hemmings, I answered, stuttering slightly. Her eyes widened slightly. Why? She asked, bizarrely. Is she here? It's private. The lady ushered me into the house and sat me down on a sofa.

Within minutes, there was a cup of tea in front of me. She didn't say anything to me for a while. We just looked at each other. Then she finally broke the silence. I wondered if you'd try and find me. It took me a long time to decide whether to leave that note or not, but I decided that you deserved a head start. That's more than I ever got. The woman was prudence. She was nothing like I had imagined.

She seemed tough and hardened and spoke with a mostly blunt tone. Terry called me not long ago. told me that she had met the new tenant. She said you looked shaken up and said that my note may not have been enough. I did say I couldn't fit everything on there, and the stairs didn't seem too important. The committee wanted to organize a meeting with you on your moving in day, but I told them that was intrusive.

The whole committee thing always seemed a bit excessive to me anyway. She spoke flippantly, like it was nothing. It may have been intrusive, but we needed a warning. We spent a night in the place before I found your note. My boyfriend had already left for work at 3.15 and taken the lift. He didn't know. I broke as I told her what had happened. Her face dropped, and so did my hope for Jamie.

I'm so sorry. I really don't know what to say. I thought my note would reach you in time. She mumbled, her face to the floor, refusing to look at me as tears streamed down my face. He's gone, isn't he? I didn't want to accept it, but I spoke to the postman and your face says all it needs to. The postman said there might be a way I can have him back. I bid at her, devastated and angry. He's gone. You can't have him back. What Ian is referring to isn't what you think. There's a way to get people back from the lift, but not as themselves. Trust me, I learned the hard way. Once they're back, you can't reverse it. I'm sorry about your man, but he's gone forever. Don't dig into the other way. To be gone forever is,

luckier than the alternative. She still wouldn't look up from the floor. What do you mean? I don't want to talk about it. I said in the note that there are things I'd rather not discuss, and I need you to respect that, or I won't be speaking to you at all. Now move on and ask what you need to ask. Prudence cut me off.

I decided not to push the topic further and moved on to some other things I needed to know. What's the deal with Terry's kids? They seem sweet and normal. Those little demon creatures are anything but normal. She answered, wensing slightly at the thought of them. When she went into labor, Terry never made it to a hospital. They were the first children ever to be born inside the building,

and with everything that goes on, it's like something's rubbed off on them. They're average children in the daytime, but they never sleep, ever. Poor Terry hasn't had a day's rest since they were born. They also really love to steal birds and rats they find the cats playing with and torment them. Really annoys the cats. As she finished speaking, a small hairless cat strutted out from behind an armchair across the room, meowing softly. It brushed its head up against Prue's exposed legs, leaving scorch marks where it touched. She didn't react.

She reached down and stroked the top of its head, smiling as it purred. And the host? I asked. I stuck to her now badly burned legs. She chuckled, pulled out a box, and lit a cigarette, tapping the top layer of ash into a small silver dish in front of her. She offered me one, and I took it gladly. They've always been my good friends. I couldn't leave the building without bringing. bringing a part of home with me. This little guy is Damon. He's seen some things. She gushed, not taking her eyes off the cat. But where did they come from? Why are they everywhere?

I asked, watching in disbelief as her burns subsided. It seemed impossible, but I looked at my arms where I picked up the cat the night before and there was no evidence it had ever happened. They didn't even appear sunburned. No one really knows. They started to appear after the fire, a few years after I'd moved in. It was rumored that they were the pets of the residents that burned, and that was why they had no fur, but I don't think that's true.

I interrupted. I met one of those neighbors last night. She said her name was Natalia. She almost killed my best friend. You're crazy if you think your note was enough of a warning. I ranted emotionally. Look, girl, if I had made a song and dance about warning you, then you'd have thought me crazy and challenged the rules.

You'd have been dead already. Be grateful you got anything. I didn't. I had to work it all out. Your generation are so spoiled. She tutted in frustration at me. I was angry, but she was probably right. An elderly lady telling me rat-like creatures would kill my boyfriend in a lift

would probably have got some laughs from me a few days ago. I stayed quiet and waited for her to calm down. After a while, she sighed and started again. I think the cats are the neighbors that burned. They've never meant any harm and they hiss and run from the impostors that roamed the building. Besides, there's no way there are that many cats living on one floor. The imposter people don't even match up with the residents that died in the fire. None of them look like or claimed to have the same name as the dead. They just claim to live in their flats.

I've met Natalia before. She left a bad scar on Bernie's leg from an incident we had. Nasty girl. Before the fire, there was CCTV. There was a report. The recording saved of about 15 people marching into the flats and up to that floor about half an hour before the fire started. It was the only evidence found. CCTV wasn't great in the 80s, so they were never identified, and the flames melted the relevant cameras, so nothing ever came of it. I think the people that entered that night are the ones that ask for sugar. I don't know any more than that, but if you avoid them like I said, you don't need to know more. They hate the cats.

I hope your friend survives, but I've seen what those people can do, so maybe she was better off dead. Prue carried on stroking Damon. I watched the skin of her fingers melt and twist as they made contact with him. What happened to your husband? I asked the question so fast I didn't have time to consider that this was a topic she had explicitly said. She didn't want to discuss in the note. But I had to know. She scowled at me.

I said I don't want to talk about that. She hissed. I just lost the love of my life. I need some answers. I begged. What happened? "'up into Bernie won't help you. "'I know you'd think any deaths in that building

"'would be down to the quarks, "'but this wasn't, for the most part anyway. "'Don't forget that we'd live there for 35 years. "'Bernie knew the rules. "'We knew how to take care of ourselves "'and have a happy life there. "'It was our home.' "'I don't doubt that, Mrs. Hemings.

"'I'm sorry.' "'I interjected. "'Bernie had dementia. It started about six months before he died, and he deteriorated very rapidly. Towards the end, he started wandering. The doctor said it was common, but in our position it was incredibly dangerous. More times than I can count, I pulled him away from the lift just in time. Along with wandering, he was forgetting the rules.

He let that smug-awful window cleaner in three times, and thanked the Lord for the big metal pipe I kept by the balcony door. chased him out a treat. Not that anything stops him from coming back, I'm sure you are already acquainted. After all those dangerous situations, Bernie was in. By the end, he made the smallest and most fatal of errors. He left a food bowl out for Damon at 10 a.m.

I was out shopping with Terry and a few of the girls from the committee, and when I came back, when I came back, I found one of those... awful creatures. Prudence started to cry. I put my hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. After all, I truly knew how she felt. It was eating him.

She sniffed and steadied herself to continue, moving my hand. I chased the creature away with the same metal pipe. I had the window cleaner and pushed Bernie off the balcony. He was heavy, but I didn't really. want anyone to know what really killed him. Its teeth, they made such an awful. It reminded me of...

Lila, I finished her sentence. I hadn't meant to. I was so invested in her story, I couldn't help it. I gather you spoke with Ian then. She said, sounding resigned. I never meant to hurt that little girl. I loved her so much. Tears rolled down her wrinkled cheeks.

Damon, who was now sat next to her on the sofa, shuffled closer as if to cuddle her. Haven't you ever been curious about getting her back? I asked, my mind turning back to the methods hinted at by both Prue and the postman. I miss Jamie so much, I do anything to get him back. Her face filled with a look at. of horror and shame. Of course I have.

She answered. Which is exactly why I'm telling you not to. But I couldn't let it go. Surely anything must be better than gone forever. I pestered. I wish I hadn't. Prudence, frustrated, stood up and gestured for me to follow.

She led me outside to the back garden of the bungalow. At the back was a large shed, the kind people used for a man cave or a summer house. It was pretty. The sun shone down on it, lighting up a few cobwebs in the corners and making them twinkle. Mrs. Hemings was careful to look into both neighboring gardens to ensure that there was no one around before she went the door to the shed. We stepped inside. And the first thing to hit me was the smell. It was putrid, like rotting meat.

I looked at the floor and covered my nose with my hands. Staring back at me was a pool of blood. I followed the blood with my eyes as Prudence locked us in the shed. Then after I made it past the animal bones, I finally saw it, just like postman Ian had described. One of the creatures was watching me from a heavy-duty metal dog cage in the corner of the shed. It looked reinforced, but still the metal had chew marks. Their jaws had to be strong to cause that.

That didn't surprise me, looking at it. It's rodent-like nose and beady, yet somehow human-like eyes, or nothing compared to the two very visible rows of dead. shagged sharp teeth that lined each gum. Despite its small stature, it was terrifying. Prudence opened a drawer in a dusty cupboard across the room and pulled out a can of dog food. She poured the contents into the bowl and passed the bowl through the feeding hatch. The cage had a safety feature, meaning the animal couldn't access the food until the hatch was locked from the outside. I was grateful for this.

Prue turned to me and spoke. She brushed one of the two strands of hair framing her face behind her ear, gesturing to the hideous creature. She said, Cat, I would like to introduce you to my granddaughter, Lila. I was in complete shock, looking at it, at her. Prudence had a facial expression filled with guilt, and now I knew the truth. I could see it. The creature was exactly how Ian had described,

except with wavy ginger hair and a sadness in its beady eyes. This abomination was Lila. This was how Prudence had brought her back, and this was the only way I would ever see Jamie again. A risk I wasn't going to take. After days of disbelief, the reality finally hit me like a ton of bricks. Jamie was dead, and he wasn't coming back.

Why did you do this? I asked, my voice shaking with horror. Prudent scowled at me, trying to mask her shame. I didn't want this. If you think this was my aim than you're sicker than I am. I just wanted my granddaughter back. When she died, a part of me died. my son blamed me his wife blamed me and although he never said it i could see in mernie's eyes

that he did too i'd pushed for her to stay i wanted to spend more time with her i got cocky about my ability to cope with the strange occurrences in the flats i know what you must be thinking but i swear i didn't know about the sleepwalking until it was too late we had moved in to the flat not long after my son left home to move in with his girlfriend. He's the youngest of three and was the last to fly the nest, so we downsized for the two of us. He never knew what we were facing in that flat or the dangers this he sent his little girl into. When it happened, it was a few years after the fire and the troubles with the creatures.

We'd struck the deal with the things in the lift, and the neighbors of the burn flats had become a fixture, just like the other quirks. I really thought she would be safe. Crudence paused to gaze longingly at the mutated little girl in the cage. The creature just twitched. In return, it barred its four rows of teeth

and made a gentle hiss. But how did you do this? I stopped her with more urgency this time, looking at Rat Lila and disbelief. I had to get answers out of her fast. I didn't want to spend any more time than was absolutely necessary in the shed. The gardener helped me.

She answered, her voice trembling. Who the fuck is the gardener? I grew more impatient with every new confusion she threw at me. The last thing I needed was something new and potentially malevolent at the mix. I didn't mention him in my note because he's been gone for over 20 years. He'll be of no concern to you, so don't worry. His damage is in the past now.

Around the time Lila went missing, the council granted landing permission for the tower block next door. But before that was built, the land it sits on acted as a communal garden for ours and the neighboring tower block on the other side. It had a regular gardener named Derek. Oh, you would often see tending the flower beds out front. Derek was one of the first people I met when I moved in. Like I said, I had to work it all out myself,

and the first time the window cleaner came to the balcony, I had naturally reached to let him in and offer a cup of tea. As my hand applied pressure to the handle to open the balcony door, there was a knock at the front door. I made a gesture to the cleaner to indicate that I would only be a minute, and answered. There was Derek. He stopped me and told me not to let that man in that I would be making a huge mistake. I thought he sounded crazy and I told him so after a while of arguing I got up to re-boil the kettle and let the man in and Derek grabbed my hands and shouted at me to look at

the man outside. When I turned to look, there was no man outside but a monster. He was tall and impossibly thin. Flesh and bones, but somehow thinner than bones with gray and skin stretched over them. He had eyes that seemed to be so deep set, they went on forever, like the

blackest cave you can imagine. Saliva dripped from his mouth and landed on my balcony floor, some sliding down the glass panel of the door. I opened my mouth to scream. But as I did, Derek, let go of my hands and the monster

was gone. In its place was that smug, friendly man begging for a drink while he cleans the windows. It took me a minute to process it, but I know what I'd seen. That was the real window cleaner. I never intentionally opened or tried to open the door for him again. That day, Derek didn't stay long. He didn't tell me what the window cleaner is or why he visits every few days. He didn't explain anything about the weird things that go on. As much as Derek was a part of the strange happenings, he was like one that had been carved from light. He said that he'd always be around when I needed him,

that it was his job to look after the residence, just like the flower beds. Over the years, he appeared a few times. He was instrumental in striking a deal with the creatures. When the neighbors died in the fire, he created a special display for the... them in the garden, made sure that nothing planted was poisonous to the cats as soon as they arrived. He also stopped an imposter from killing Bernie at our front door. He seemed like such a good thing

for the residents, always there to help, offer some gentle advice or a creative solution, someone to be trusted. He changed when they granted planning permission for the other block, though. He knew his garden would be dug up to lay foundations and his use is redundant. He became grumpy and bitter overtime, but no one paid enough attention to notice, especially not when my tragedy struck. When Lila died, I was devastated. Derek appeared to me as I sat on a bench in the garden crying. He offered to help me to use the garden to get her back. I snapped at him. I told him. I told him, him it was his fault and that he should have been there when it happened to stop them. He worked so hard on the agreement with the creatures. He spent a lot of time with them. Lila

broke the rule, and he had to allow them to do what had been agreed, he said. He couldn't have stopped them, but he wanted to make things right. I understood why he hadn't intervened, but I couldn't accept it. I lashed out at him. I'm embarrassed to say I actually slapped the poor man along with stamping on his freshly planted flower bed. I was angry and grieving. I quickly burned myself out and collapsed into a blubber and heap on the deck floor. Derek attempted to comfort me, but his mind was on his garden. He said he was sorry for my loss, but I should not have attacked the flower bed,

that he'd always been nice to me and I should be kinder in return. I snapped and told him that it didn't matter because it was all about to be bulldozed in the next few days anyway. I should have taken more note of the way he twitched as I said that. He snapped. He said that he knew I was angry, but there was no need to take it out on him. If I was that desperate to get Lila back, he knew away,

but it was dangerous. I begged. Anything, I said. I would do anything. He told me it was simple, and that all I had to do was enter the lift and offer the creature some food, whilst repeating the phrase, Revitator mortuists, during their frenzied hours. He said that there was no guarantee they wouldn't be crunching on my bones before I even got the first word out, but that if I succeeded, I would have, Lala Beck. Of course, it was successful. There wasn't a creature inside as I performed the ritual as instructed. I thought nothing happened at first. She didn't appear straight away, but a few days later, I found her running around inside my house. She'd taken a chunk out of Damon's ear with her teeth. I tried to kill her at first, but just as I was about to finalize it, I saw in her eyes who she was. I tried to look for Derek, but by that point the workman had started.

Nothing was left of his garden, and nothing was left of Derek. No one's seen him since. You see, Cat, nothing in that building is totally harmless. You have to be on your guard at all times. I've kept her like this ever since. You may think I'm crazy, but I couldn't kill my own grandda. I'm not a monster. Prue sighed and ushered me back out of the shed.

She locked the door behind us, closing the padlock on her most hideous secret. I was exhausted. It was a lot of information to take in, and as a result of the information I'd received, real grief for my boyfriend was finally settling in. Every hope I had was dashed. I know many of you tried to tell me. in the comments that he was gone, but I wanted you to be wrong, so bad. I couldn't bear to look at Prudence Hemmings for another moment. I made my excuses and left, morosely riding the bus

back to the tower block I had once been so excited to live in. It was midday afternoon by the time I got home. The choice between the stairs and the lift didn't strike much enthusiasm into me, but I opted for the stairs. And after what I was, I was a minute. I'm sure ended up being 11 flights. I made it the six flights up the stairs to my flat. I laid on our mattress on the floor and sobbed for Jamie. I sobbed so hard my throat went dry and hurt and my stomach cramped with each gasping breath. I sobbed myself to sleep. My body and mine must have given up fighting the need to rest and shut down. When I woke up it was late. about 10 p.m. I wrote as much of my update as I could for you guys. Hit post and just sat at the dining

table with my head in my hands. My whole life had fallen to shit and I knew it. I thought about so many things, questioned why they were happening to me. I searched social media for updates on Georgia, but they were none. Jamie wasn't super close with his family, but I knew it wasn't long before they'd start to worry. Everything I considered just snowballed in my mind. The loneliness in dealing with this situation was killing me. I decided to do something I usually wouldn't. I went downstairs, and I knocked on the door, flat 26. Terry answered, her perfectly bobbed hair was a little unkempt and out of place. She had huge bags under her eyes, and I could smell wine on her breath. Are you okay, Kath?

She looked concerned. I found it ironic that she looked so disheveled. I had forgotten it was me who came for help. I'm not. I'm sorry. I know I don't know you. I just... I could barely speak.

Don't worry. Prue called me. She told me everything. I'm sorry about your boyfriend. It's a shame I never got to meet him. Terry stared back at me with the same expression of Motherwood, warm and understanding.

Would you like a cup of tea? Maybe something stronger? I'd love a coffee, please. I answered meekly, making my way into the living room. Her sofa was comfy and reminded me of being back home at my parents before any of this started.

Terry trotted out to the kitchen, stumbling slightly. I could see the kitchen counter from the sofa and the empty bottle of wine that accounted for her stumbling. As she boiled the kettle, there was a huge crash from somewhere inside the flat. I jumped, feeling startled. Terry coughed in a meager attempt to conceal the noise. Excuse me for just a moment, please. She muttered apprehensively as she walked out of the living area and into the hallway containing the bedrooms. I heard another crash, giggling and some inaudible shouting.

After a while, things went quiet, and Terry came back into the living room. Sorry about that. Kids, you know. She announced, brushing off the noises. I'd almost forgotten about Eddie and Ellie. It was late already, and by the resigned expression on Terry's face,

indicated that this was how all her nights began. I nodded. I couldn't muster up much more of a response. I think she could see that I just needed to sit there. She got up to finish making and then set the cup of tea in front of me with two digestive biscuits. I hadn't eaten properly in days and I really needed the sugar. It turned out me and Terry get along really well. We have similar taste in movies, music, and food despite the age gap.

We spoke for about an hour about random, normal stuff. It was nice to get a break from the madness. I got used to the crashing around from the twins. I even laughed a few times. I'd forgotten what that felt like these past few days. The break didn't last long. The next noise that we heard was louder than the first. It was quickly followed by two small children running into the living room,

diving into their mother's arms. Eddie and Ellie and Ellie were dressed in pajamas and were still the cute children that I had met in the hallway. But something was different. Their brown puppy dog eyes had become deep voids, like what I'd imagine when Prue described the window cleaner's true form. And at the ends of their fingers were long, sharp claws protruding from where the nails should be. I didn't have time to recoil in terror at their new looks. Terry clutched them and asked what was wrong.

They wailed and buried the voids where their eyes should be into their mother's shoulders. despite their terrifying exterior, these were two very scared little kids. It had been a very long day, and I thought my nightmare was over, but it was only just beginning. Ellie mumbled into Terry's shoulder, and that high-pitched voice kids do when they're scared. We were just teasing. Shh. Who's? What have you done?

Terry asked. Color drained from her face. The kids didn't get a chance to reply. Terry's face turned paler than I thought possible. I looked up and standing in the living room doorway were about ten people, all incredibly average-looking. They were almost expressionless. They didn't look angry or pleased to see us.

They were dressed in non-descriptive clothes. I imagine trying to describe them to one of these artists that draws pictures for the police. and I genuinely don't think even one of them had a distinguishing feature. That's why it took me a while to spot her in the crowd, even though she had been glaring at me the entire time. Natalia. That's why we set the fire all those years ago. She chuckled throughout her words.

There was an animation in them like she was a psychotic cartoon character. Finally, Catchy Gets Prey after 138. episodes of chasing. Those people weren't disposable. Terry mumbled, barely a decibel higher than a whisper. Natalia went from psychotic cartoon to school bully. She made my skin crawl. I was only a child, but those people were friends of my parents.

They were good people. Terry said with slightly more confidence, none of the other people had moved. They just stood there. staring. Why would you burn people alive? What can you possibly gain? I interjected, taking a slight step

between Natalia and Terry and the kids. I could see she was getting ready to go for them, and I couldn't let it happen. We were living with the great leader, Michael. All of us, living in the righteous manner that he had directed us to live. She gestured to the people around her. The name Michael appeared to inspire some sort of emotion in the group.

Michael's brother, Jonathan, lived here. On the floor, we burned. He let us hang out there sometimes. But he didn't live the righteous way that we did. He didn't like our beliefs. But he took us in when we lost the place we were staying because of the growth of the group. Him and Michael rarely saw eye to eye.

They argued passionately. Our group never believed in living within the constraints of societal norms, and we were up at all hours. We came and went as we pleased, embracing freedoms, and listened to music as we did introspective work. Terry shoved the kids further behind her and snapped, infuriated. Oh, please, you were a group of entitled brady hippies following some middle-aged mentally ill twat. Listen to yourself, the stereotypical. cultish drivel coming out of your mouth right now. Terry cried. I was shocked at her outburst, although I couldn't have agreed more. It did sound like cultish drivel. It made me so angry that this

was what the entire floor of people died over. As Terry ended her rant, the curtains hanging on the window behind her burst into flames. I jumped and felt my heart skip a beat. Don't insult us. I'm sick of hearing simple-minded people call us. Came from the back row. An average-looking man, dark hair and jeans had piped up, smiling and watching the curtains burn. He had done that. They were all capable of what Natalia had done to Georgia at the very least. For the first time since the people had entered Terry's flat, my nerves of steel had wavered. I realized that we were only alive because they were allowing it so far. We were in big

trouble. Terry swiftly shut up and Italia continued her story. Michael was the true leader. Not like all the fakes you hear of in the news, the people you're talking about. He was teaching us to build a world of peace and harmony. But he didn't deny that in order to do that. You had to eradicate the non-believers. He taught us to embrace the bad in us, to harness it so that we could do extraordinary things. She smiled wickedly as her hands glowed hot coals as she spoke. It may have sounded like cultish drivel, but Michael being a total faker wouldn't explain their powers. Things went wrong when someone went to the police after Michael and Jonathan had a terrible argument one night. When the police arrived, Jonathan told him.

told us to go. The group had been planning to leave this building anyway. We'd had nothing but interruption and trouble in our time here. This place is weird, but we had nowhere immediate to go. The police already disliked us after overcrowding the last property. We didn't need any more attention. Michael was furious. We brainstormed in a field for hours who could have done it. I personally suspected the next door neighbour Mavis. The woman was so nosy. Always knocking and asking us to keep noise down, interrupting our spiritual sessions. Michael couldn't make a certain judgment on the person who had done it. All we thought we were sure of was that they had to be on the same floor.

So he instructed us to go back that night and eradicate the whole floor. And every non-believer who lived there. As you know, we obliged. This incited sick laughter from the crowd. I waited, forcing myself to let her finish, buying time. We took pleasure in their screams in watching every man, woman and child, go up in flames through their front door windows. It was the first time we'd unleashed all that energy, and we felt so powerful. But then as we left the burning hallway behind us and entered the stairwell,

this building found a way to fuck us over one more time. I couldn't give you a number on the amount of times we tried to run down those stairs, leave our glorious victory behind us, and return to Michael. It didn't matter how many times we tried. We couldn't make it past that floor. The stairs wouldn't let us. It didn't take long before the fire reached the stairwell we were trapped in, burning us all, along with the non-believers.

We died, just in time for the fire engine to arrive. We may have been dead, but we were. didn't disappear. We couldn't leave the building. We were stuck just wandering in it, in and out of the burned flats and hallways, but not allowed anywhere else unless we were asked. It was awful. We didn't try to cause any trouble at first. We waited for Michael to come and find us, instruct us. Two months passed and he hadn't come. Instead came confirmation. A newspaper put through the door of the building. Headline news. Tell a block resident Bernie Hammings information vital to imprisonment of local cult leader on drug charges. I gasped. I couldn't believe I hadn't found that when I was

researching Peru, but I suppose local news wasn't so heavily online back then. Natalia saw my shocked expression and grinned wider than before. The old bat didn't tell you that then, she asked, although it wasn't really a question. That was stupid husband. is the whole reason we're here. We started to really cause issues then. Did everything within our power to screw the whole building over. But it didn't take them long to work out

that we had to be asked to come in. We only stopped when Prue worked out a way that we could die a second time and that we would come back again. She killed two of our group. She was the only person that could stop us. We couldn't do shit with her around. We stopped and reached a stalemate.

Then she moved out. We were going to honour that stalemate until you stabbed me. Prue's gone. It's fair game in here now. As Natalia got angrier, a member of her group started getting agitated. They all soon followed like a hive mind working as one. The stillness became chaotic, with all of them moving and making noise. I didn't notice at first when one started walking towards Terry and the kids,

but I noticed when it got near. It was a teen girl, slender and pretty, but still unsettlingly average. As she got within a meter of the family, Ellie suddenly went rigid. The claws that replaced her fingernails grew longer and sharper, with jagged edges from growing so fast. The voids deepened if that was even possible. She opened her mouth to reveal rows of sharp teeth, blood caked where the tooth meets the gum, where they had grown too quickly as well.

Ellie jumped. She reached out towards the girl and slashed her face with her claws, leaving deep gouges across her eyes. She clung on the girl, using her claws as wall pegs, keeping herself at eye level. Eddie controlled the crowd. His own claws grew, and then he ran towards them, sending them scattering out of the flat. Random bursts of flames erupted everywhere, lighting up the whole room. Shit had hit the fan.

The two demon children were successfully fending off the group of 15 dead superhuman cultists. Natalia ran from them too, kept her eyes locked on mine as she did. As she ran from the flat, she spoke to me. This isn't over! She screamed, and I knew that it wasn't. I stayed on Terry's sofa that night. We organized all the burned items in the house and threw things out before we crashed out in the early hours. The kids' claws retracted, and they returned to their earlier state, causing mischief in the hallways.

They were too young to really understand. I didn't sleep much. Nothing new. When I woke up, Terry was still asleep. I didn't want to disturb her, so I walked back to my flat, desperate to avoid anything strange on my way. The stairs must have noticed because they didn't skip on my way up. I hadn't checked the time when I left Terry's, but I reached my door the same time as a familiar face.

Postman Ian was there, dropping letters on my doorstep. I need to talk. Can you come inside just five minutes? Please. I practically begged him at the doorstep. I told him everything that had happened the night before, how Natalia was out for revenge, and I was the object of her rage. I begged him to tell me how to kill them, but he claimed he didn't know.

He said if I kept my doors locked and didn't let them in, then I'd be fine. He looked shirty, as I mentioned, killing them, didn't even suggest asking Prudence how to do it. Something was telling me there wasn't much point. He seemed so disingenuous. I wanted to trust him so badly I wanted to trust him. I'd been so vulnerable with him over Jamie. But if Prudence Hemmings could forget to mention what Bernie had done and conveniently never pass on the method to kill these awful people,

leaving them around to terrorize her friends and neighbors, then could she be a liar too? Could I really trust Ian? When he provided no answers and no real help, Something inside me told me that I needed to get him out of my flat. I needed to rethink. Start working things out on my own. I made excuses to Ian and sent him on his rounds.

Prudence left me these roles. But she left so much out. How do I know I wasn't always a pawn in some sick game? Her fantasy life is a puppet master, setting me up to fail. She's kept her granddaughter in a cage for years. Maybe she enjoys suffering. I wasn't going to give up easily, though. Natalia wasn't going to win.

I decided then and there that I needed to attend the committee meeting today and start building an army against Natalia. I didn't need Prue's help or her methods. With enough manpower, I could do it myself. This was war. I sat all morning thinking about everything. cup after cup of coffee in front of me to keep me awake. Once the postman had left and I was alone with my thoughts,

they just continued to get louder. I thought about Natalia and the cult, about the kids and their nighttime antics, about the committee meeting, Jamie and how much I missed him, Georgia and my burning guilt, and Mr. Prentice, who was finally making these aforementioned animal noises.

Most of all I thought about the note left for me on moving day. How it had changed everything. My whole life was different now. I was alone and it felt like my new home was attacking from every angle. I reread the note a few times over my coffee. I worried about my rent. It was tight but manageable. School is currently out, but as a training teacher assigned to a school,

I still get paid a small amount through the summer. The rent is low, and with a second summer job, I can just about make it without Jamie. It sounds strange, but it felt nice to worry about something normal for a minute, even if I should have been worrying about my survival and the many entities currently trying to kill me. I didn't get to stew for too long. I had to get ready for the committee meeting. After the events of the night before and my growing mistrust of prudence, it was imperative that I got the neighbors on my side.

if I was going to achieve anything like my goals of eradicating the imposter cultist's neighbors. The meeting was at noon in Flat 31. There was a poster on a communal notice board by the entrance that I was glad to spot. Terry hadn't mentioned the time when we met, and all our meetings since had been a bit hectic to discuss it. The poster promised tea and cakes and my stomach rumbled at the thought. I hadn't eaten properly in days. At 1155 I left the flat.

and wandered into the corridor. I'd never seen so many neighbors. Mr. Prentice, however, was still making that awful noise, and I watched in disbelief as every single person in the corridor walked past his door as if it was silent. I did my usual deliberating on whether to take the stairs or lift, but yet again, the stairs won. I still couldn't bear being where Jamie died,

and all these extra flights were keeping me fit. Flat 31 belonged to an older lady named Molly Thompson and her husband, Eric. She had a blue-wrenched head of curls attached to her head, and had gone to the effort to make homemade Battenberg cake. Other neighbors had brought along baked goods as well. It reminded me of a school fair. The flat itself was decorated for the 70s, with plenty of china cat ornaments littered around.

I sat down on a dusty, plastic garden chair, one of the many that Molly seemed to have acquired and laid out for the residents pouring in. I hadn't seen community spirit like this in my life. I smiled as I saw Terry, Eddie, and Ellie Wondering. It was nice to see some familiar faces. I had noticed people looking at me, wondering who I was.

It probably wasn't often they got new neighbors. Eddie came running up to me, swung his arms around me, and sat down in the rickety garden chair next to mine. It was so sweet. Terry smiled at me and took the seat the other side of mine. Ellie sat next to her brother. The brown puppy dog eyes were back. No claws.

I'm glad you came. Terry said to me, loud enough to hear over the voices of the other neighbors. I really want you to see the good side of the block. We don't bite. Really. She laughed nervously as she realized the irony of her statement. Terry, I need help. We need to stop these people from coming back again and from terrorizing people.

The block can't go on like this. I wanted to make the purpose of my attendance clear to her. It was time for things to change. But if you don't let them in, then they don't bother you. I've spoken to the kids. They know not to do it again, that those people are dangerous. She paused for a moment and sighed. Although them running away didn't help.

the kids think they're indestructible now. They've been telling me all morning that they're going to kill the bad guys. She looked so resigned. But it was true. They did run away from the twins. Maybe there was something in that. I knew they could die. I just had to work at how.

But as the thought crossed my mind and I looked at Eddie and Ellie, I couldn't imagine taking the risk. I could have flat out gone back and asked Prudence. But to be honest, I didn't want anything to do with her. She gave me such a bad feeling. I was doubting everything she told me. It doesn't matter if you can keep them away. We can't all live in fear.

Yours aren't the only kids in this building. I knew this from surveying the room. But I bet not all kids here are as special as yours. What if another family burns to death because their kids were hyper one night? I could see this struck a chord with Terry. She looked at me with glassy eyes as if on the verge of tears. You're right. Molly's the chairwoman and she can be a little strict,

but you can bring it up under any other business. She spoke with a lump in her throat. Here you go, by the way. She handed me a piece of printed paper. Any other business felt a bit lackluster, but it would do as long as it got discussed. I turned my attention to the piece of paper. It was an agenda for the meeting.

For something written so formally, it appeared farcial. It seemed other flats and floors had different, but equally strange issues to mine. There were only six items on the agenda for the meeting, with A.O.B. as the seventh. They were as follows. One, welcome in introductions with apologies for absence. 2. Replacing of the flickering lights on floor 11. It seems to incite vicious behavior from the pets and elderly of that floor. 3. Serving a formal residence letter of concern to the man who doesn't move from the bottom of the stairwell on floor 5. 4. Finances. Budgets for general maintenance in the annual barbecue.

5. The stairs with no grip leading up to 5.5. The stairs with no grip leading up to 5. floor 14 at the very top and the health and safety hazards it presents. 6. Soundproofing Mr. Prentice's Flat, number 48. I was comforted to know that I wasn't alone in dealing with all these strange occurrences. I was also chilled to the core to know for certain that it was the entire building that was more than a bit odd. What really struck me as odd is that when I thought about it, I had seen that man on floor

five when going down the stairs. But I'd never noticed that it had been every time, or that he had never moved, until this moment. The meaning began with the loud and dissatisfying clink. By this point, the tiny 70s theme flat was packed. Garden chairs had all ran out and people were standing. Molly Thompson stood up from her floral patterned armchair and bashed a teaspoon against the outside of her cup. She reminded me of a very strict, disciplinary and school teacher I had worked with during my university placement. She commanded quiet in the room. I think we should get started, everyone. She shrilled, her voice growing louder with every word until the crowd came to a silent hum. Right. Firstly, we are not going to skip the introductions today. Apologies have been given by

Joe and Steph a flat two, and yet again by Mr. Prentice. We have a new face in the room, as I'm sure many of you have noticed. She gestured to me and looked in my direction, but didn't really make any eye contact. She was just talking about me as I sat in the room. Eventually, she addressed me directly. Stand up, dear. Introduce yourself. We're pleased to have you here. I was deeply uncomfortable. I could feel some sort of panic coming on. I never liked standing in crowds very much, but I stood up anyway. Um, hi.

My name is Kat. I live in flat number 42. I moved in with my boyfriend, Jamie, but he was killed in the lift by the weird rat creatures you people have living here. The people that claim to live in the burned out flats won't leave me alone, and one in particular seems to want me dead. Oh, and that window cleaner outside my flat makes me want to scoop my own eyes out with a spoon every time he knocks on the door.

Nice to meet you all. The crowd had gasped a little. I sat down, instantly mortified. I don't know what happened. The normality and structure of the meeting overwhelmed me. There's something about a sense of order and normality amongst chaos. It does something to your brain. brain. And for me, for the first time in this whole journey, it sent me into a meltdown.

I sobbed as I hit the chair, both in pure mental exhaustion and disappointment that I had blown my chance at building any sort of army against Natalia. Terry rubbed my shoulder. Molly broke the awkward silence that had blinketed the room. Nice to meet you, Catherine. I understand life in this building can be a little over. overwhelming. We did ask the previous occupant to let us intervene when you moved in, but she was insistent. In hindsight, we may need to review our policies on new tenants. I am so very sorry for the loss of your partner. The lift is a most unfortunate situation. She had been in positions of power in her life for certain. She responded professionally, but coldly. There was no feeling

in her condolences. She came off like a corrupt politician, digging themselves out of a hole. She did decide to skip the introductions after my outburst. I also hate it when I'm called Catherine. My parents named me Katie, and I shorten it to Kat. Her presuming it was Catherine added to her schoolteacher demeanor. She carried on with proceedings pretty swiftly and interesting characters present at the meeting started to emerge.

My favorite was a large middle-aged woman named precious St. Floor, who would not accept Molly's claims that there was not enough in the budget to replace the lighting on floor 11. She got up and lifted her shirt to reveal a large, deep bite mark across her stomach caused by her dog after a long episode of the lights flickering. When that didn't change Molly's answer, she lifted her trouser leg to reveal a smaller but still noteworthy bite mark on her leg from her elderly mother who lives with her. Molly didn't budge. It took what felt like an eternity

to get to any other business. If I weren't so focused on my goal, I would have enjoyed hearing about the quirks of the other floors, maybe try to engage a little. But I just couldn't concentrate. When the chairwoman asked if anyone had any other business,

she scanned the room quickly. I stood up for my chair and she locked in on me with her eyes. My hands were shaking, and I could feel a cold sweat forming all over my body. Catherine, what can we help you with, dear? She asked in a patronizing tone. I want help getting rid of the people pretending to be from the burned out flats. I can't be the only person that doesn't like living in fear.

I stated boldly, trying not to break down again. Dear, we have had this discussion multiple times, and it's been taken off the agenda. I'm aware you're new here, but there's nothing we can do about certain problems within this building. And for this particular issue, we would appreciate you not letting them into your home and ignoring them like the rest of us. She snapped back. But that's not good enough. Terry's kids answered the door last night.

They're children. It's easily done. What if someone else's child does it and aren't so lucky to survive? One burn my friend's so bad a few nights ago that she's still unconscious. in hospital. This I knew from social media. A few people called out in agreement with me from the crowd. The only one who has ever been able to deal with them is prudence,

and that difficult woman has never revealed her methods. Don't think we didn't try. You're suggesting a suicide mission. You do well to remember you are new here. Molly hissed through her teeth. Did she have to mention I was new so many times? was grating on me. Well, I'm willing, shouted precious.

She seemed stronger than the rest in her earlier rant. I was glad to have her on my side. Where she came forward, a few others followed. Soon I had five people plus myself willing to form a subcommittee to get rid of the cultists. Molly didn't like it, but she agreed to let us do it. There was me, Precious, and Terry, along with a lady named, named Shanti, who lived a few doors down from me. A man named Anton and his friend Leo from

four-eight made up the group. To be honest, they just seemed keen to get involved with any kind of battle. Leo was the loud one. Anton was mostly silent. I invited them to my flat after Molly swiftly adjourned the meeting. Inviting anyone into my home made me anxious now. I found myself studying each of their faces to ensure they weren't too average, and I had invited the wrong people in. I was fairly certain I hadn't. Eddie and Ellie and Ellie settled in front of my TV in the bedroom, so they didn't hear our conversation. They may only be kids, but I felt safer with them there. We discussed for hours how we could bring the imposter people into one place and kill them all.

Leo was particularly creative. He came up with weird and wacky ways to end them, from lockyed them in a room and blasting with fire extinguishers until they freeze to hurting them into the lift between 1.11 and 333 a.m. The whole time I waited nervously for a knock on the door, for them to come for us. But they didn't. We have time to plan. But despite the time, it never really took off. No idea seemed feasible. I shared everything I knew. My conversation with Prue the night before in Terry's flat.

Everything. Precious listened to my tales intently before speaking. Derek would have helped us. He was a great man. He used to turn up at my door in the dead of night just as those lights started and take my dog for a walk. She spoke of the gardener with a fondness. Prudence told me about Derek.

She said he's been gone since the garden was demolished. I replied flatly. It was awful when he left. That woman that used to live here was nasty to him. I watched out my window as she tore up the garden. I know she was grieving for that little girl, but I know Derek only ever wanted to help. Shanti spoke up from the corner.

She had been pretty quiet the whole time. He was the whole reason we don't have those awful creatures from the lift all over our homes anymore. My brother was killed by one before the agreement. He was four years old. I twitched as she told her story. Shanti had such sad eyes, and speaking about her brother only filled them with further sadness. This is another thing I don't understand.

Why have any agreement? If you manage to kill most of them, why not all? I asked, feeling anger over Jamie burned through my three. throat as I spoke. Precious laughed. Terry shot her a look from across the room. No one's told you the whole story, have they? Shanti asked, a single tear running down her face. What do you mean?

This was driving me insane. Nothing was simple. How could I trust anyone? When Prudence and some of the others killed the creatures, they killed a large group of them in one hit. They had started to work out that food scraps and pet food were attracting them, and they gathered all the pet food in the tower block into one empty flat on the floor the fire had happened. The creatures came in droves, just like they expected, and they set the flat alight.

Again, the flat was burned to ash on top of pre-existing ash. Nothing could survive that. Shanti was interrupted after this by Leo. And then three giant rat motherfuckers literally rise up from the ashes, triple as smart and strong, and fuck shit up. Shanti rolled her eyes and continued. So all Prudence did was cause a quite literally bigger problem. She didn't kill them. All she did was help them evolve.

There was only three of them, but they learned a sneak attack. More people died than during the original. infestation. They were more intelligent, but not in the way it comes across when the agreements spoken about. We couldn't speak to or reason with them. Terry was looking at the floor. Only Derek was able to do that. He spoke to them, like he spoke to the garden. He made it safe for everyone again. I wasn't there. I was too young. But there, We were told he didn't even have to use words. They understood just a series of movements and eye contact.

Derek explained the rule with the lift. He told us it was a gesture of goodwill. The creatures needed a home and seemed attracted to the building, and we would let them live there and stop killing their kind if they would stop killing ours. But to show them some respect, we would allow them a small time frame where They could unleash their instinctual nature. But only if someone came to them. There are only two left now.

Prudence killed the other during what happened to her granddaughter. But that only made the two stronger. Like they absorbed the third. I tried to take in all the information I was receiving, but I couldn't. It was too much. Derek isn't coming back. It's been years. This is pointless. Terry finally erupted.

Precius laughed again. How do you know? You speak to Dear Prue all the time. Know something we don't? Precise spoke sarcastically, but I think she meant what she said. It was becoming clear that Prudence Hemings wasn't too popular in this building. Well, I don't speak to her all the time. We just keep in contact.

She was always nice to me. Terry tried weakly to defend herself. That's because you're naive and a pushover. She used you because no one else would give her the time of day. Precious was about to launch into a full-on rant on Terry. I was glad Eddie and Ellie and Ellie were in the other room and couldn't hear. I wondered if she'd seen them at night. I decided to stop the rant.

This was becoming counterproductive and we were getting nowhere with our plans. I interjected and told them all I needed them to leave so that I could sleep. Partly true, although I knew I couldn't sleep. I had other things to do. They all filed out of my flat. Terry and the kids were the last to leave. She gave me a hug as she left and told me to get a proper night's rest, telling me she was always there for a cuppa and a chat.

It was sweet. I felt sorry for Terry. The kids hugged me too as they left. I know she spoke to Prue, but I was certain that it really was entirely innocent. I sat in the empty flat, disheartened that my assembling of an army had turned into a bickering shit show

with no real suggestions on how to kill the imposter neighbors. I felt totally alone. I couldn't trust Prue or Ian or pretty much anything I thought I knew. Maybe Prue didn't even kill those neighbors. They only told me half-truths about the creatures after all. I was left alone with my thoughts again, and after a few hours, a good one finally struck me, but I needed supplies. I left the building and went to the nearest shop to gather the items I needed. For what I needed, and the time of

night, I had to travel to a 24-hour supermarket. It took half an hour each way on the bus, but I stayed focused. My bags were heavy and awkward on the way back to the block. But if it paid off, this was going to be worth it. I trudged up the stairs. It took me two trips and 24 flights of stairs instead of 14 to get everything in my flat and organize myself. It only took 16 in a large gym bag. That was much easier to carry on the way back down, thankfully. I passed the man on floor five twice. Now I'd noticed him, he made my skin crawl a little. I walked through the downstairs corridor, diverting away from the main entrance and passing all the ground floor flats to the door at the back of the building. The door at the back led to a small concrete area with the grass strip

along the side and a bench decorated with the memorial plaque. This was the block's outside space. as is typical in the city the whole bench was covered in graffiti the memorial was unreadable i got to work i dug the strip of grass turning soil with my new equipment i'd never been green-fingered and to be honest the shrubs i had brought had been so heavy i had grown to resent them a little i worked for an hour and a half i was sweating and night had come it was pitch black and i was using my phone to see I'd almost given up until I got up from my crouching position to stretch my knees. I reached my arms out, put down my shovel, and took a seat on the bench. I hadn't seen him arrive, but the man was already sat there. He wore a flat cap and a jacket, despite it being the middle of summer and a beautiful night.

He just smiled warmly at the shrubs for a moment without a word. Eventually, he spoke. That's a lovely little patch you planted. I can look after it if you like. I used to maintain the last garden here. I sat silent for a moment, in shock, that my plan had even worked. It seemed almost too simple, too easy. But here he was.

Derek had a kindly face, wrinkles around his eyes and cheeks, only added to the softness of his expression. His white hair poking out from beneath his flat cap. stood out in the dark night. I know who you are. We need you, was all I could manage. The mental exhaustion and fatigue

from the whole experience had built up. But his arrival was like finishing a bad day working at school. I felt like I could relax again, even if only a little. What's your name, darling? It's Kat. I live in flat 42 now.

His face lit up as I confirmed. my flat number. Prudence is gone. She's gone, but the whole place is a mess. So many things are happening and the residents are suffering, I answered. We chatted for what felt like hours, outside with nothing but moonlight. He told me how he used to consider the building part of the garden, a place for him to maintain the residence, just like the plants he looks after. I explained my whole experience since moving in. I told him about Jamie, and I sobbed. Derek held me as I cried and made me feel safe, something I had forgotten the feeling of since receiving Prue's note. He didn't interrupt. He just listened. I told him about Natalia and the cultists, the problems

they had been causing. He was particularly heartbroken when he heard they had used Eddie and Ellie for entry. He had gone before they were born, but remembered Terry as a child and how sweet she was. He was pleased when I told her what a sweet adult she had become. My claims that Prudence was the only person and knew how to kill the imposter neighbors were met with a skeptical expression, which gave me some hope. Derek listened to my entire tale with barely a word. When I finished, he stood up and asked me to follow him. I was confused, but I did as I was told. He walked me to the entrance of the lift. I lifted my arm to check the time on my watch. We'd been outside for quite some time and the idea of the creatures being inside made my heart

pound and my stomach turn. You are safe. It's 12.32 a.m. There's no need to worry or to check your watch. And with that, he pressed the call lift button. Despite his insistence that I was safe, my stomach continued to do gymnastics. It felt like forever before the lift finally made the clunking sound that meant it had reached the bottom. I felt my whole body shaking violently as the doors opened. I don't know what I expected to see. We were in the safe time zone, but every time I looked at the lift, I pictured Janie's dead, crunched up body.

Step inside. He said, I can't. Please don't make me. I begged. I won't let anything happen to you, but you need to see something. There was such a sincerity in his eyes as he spoke. I'd never trusted someone so completely, so quickly.

But every fiber of my being told me this man was entirely good. I stepped inside the lift. Derek stepped in behind me, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder as I hyperventilated. He gently turned me to face the lift. the panel of buttons, that control where the lift stops. What is wrong with this panel? Do you see it? He asked cryptically.

I studied the panel, read all the numbers, counting them. I couldn't see anything wrong. I tried. I really tried. But nothing seemed out of place at all. Everything you'd expected to find was there and nothing more. I shook my head, barely regaining my mind. composure. Can you take us to floor nine, please? He smiled slightly as he made the request.

I looked back to the panel to press the button, but floor nine didn't exist. I was so confused, I had counted the numbers. I was sure of it. Derek must have made it disappear, but the panel didn't look any different to before. I can't explain it. Looking at it, I would have sworn blind nothing was wrong with it even once I knew. But floor nine didn't exist. Derek could see my frustration. It was like the building was now playing tricks on me. He walked me out of the lift and sat me down on the bottom of the stairs before he finally

began to speak. The building is like a living organism. It can seal off parts of the world, and it can open up others you never could have imagined. When those awful people burned that whole floor of residence, I was devastated. Some wonderful people lived in those flats, both of the usual and unusual variety. But those people had no limit to their cruelty. Whole families burned alive. It was a tragedy that made me so angry.

I felt so guilty when it happened. I can predict what some of our more. or tricky residents are going to do and make sure I'm there to help. But those people were nothing to do with this place. I couldn't see what they were planning. So I couldn't stop it. At this point, I noticed one of the hairless cats had sat between us. Derek looked at it with tears brimming in his eyes.

He stroked it and moved it onto his lap. Derek's fingers didn't burn at all. He continued. When it happened, the building used it. defense mechanisms and sealed off the entirety of the floor. It stopped the fire from spreading and kept the perpetrators there to die by their own hands. The building only allowed the floor to be unsealed once they were dead. It took about a week before those awful people turned up again.

Asking for sugar at people's doors, the first few, while they let them in. It was so difficult, so many residents burned alive that I was having to use their remains from my garden just to hide the dead. The entire community were terrified and grieving for those that died. No matter how hard I tried, I still couldn't predict them, or see them. So I took prudence, who at the time seemed a perfectly reasonable woman, to the burned-out floor. Floor nine, however, had been sealed again. There was no button in the lift, and it always skipped on the stairs. Only No one noticed. This building really is a magnificent creature. I stared at him in amazement through the whole story.

I was exhausted, but my brain was working in overdrive to process what he was telling me. I had started to stroke the cat too. My fingers did burn, but I didn't flinch. I found its company comforting. He carried on. I went back later in the night and took the stairs again. Alone this time. I think my intentions were clear when the stairs allowed me to access floor 9 for the first time since just after the fire.

I brought Prudence to the floor within the hour. The stairs had stopped skipping floor nine for me, although I later learned that when Prudence had tried alone, she was not allowed access. We explored the floor, walked among the remnants of our dead friend's belongings. Eventually, we came across one of the soulless arsonists roam in the halls. It appears that's where they spend their time when they aren't out terrorising the residents trying to claim more victims.

He was disturbed and disoriented to see anyone not like them on that floor. He twitched a little and spat out the sugar line as if it was an automatic response. I almost felt sorry for him. He claimed to come from flat 66. More were approaching behind

him. Prudence was terrified. She was starting to sweat profusely and back away from the man, but it didn't cool her down. He was burning her slowly. I felt nothing. See, the stranger things in life just don't seem to affect me. I've never known why. Sometimes I even just know how to deal with them, like it's programmed into me. On this new playing field, in their domain, I'm knew what to do. I grabbed the man and ran him down to Flat 66, four doors from where we were standing. I threw him into the flat and waited. The other arsonists were approaching. The man tried to exit the flat. That was doorless after the wooden doors all burned to cinders and the fire. But as he reached the door, something stopped him. He couldn't leave, no matter how

much he tried or how hard he screamed. Prudence lit up. She grabbed hold of one that had tried to kill her friend Molly. She remembered the flat number she had claimed to be from and repeated my actions. With a lot more sweating and some winces of pain, it worked again. Prudence wanted to go after the rest, but as they got closer I could see the blisters forming on parts of her body. I dragged her out of the hallway and back into the stairwell, and we ran.

She begged me to take her back, kept telling me that the stairs wouldn't let her, that it was too dangerous. The residents had started to learn not to let them in, and we had no casualties at all after we trapped the first two. Don't get me wrong. It's a problem I was intended to deal with, but it was around that time that we first learned the council would be building that monstrosity over the top of my garden. This left me not at my best. My intuition was failing me when a few months after that I allowed prudent. and Molly to herd the creatures from the lift to floor nine. It's one of my biggest regrets. I should never have walked them up there. I didn't know she was going to burn them all.

She didn't give me a chance to reason. I became mistrusting of everyone and distracted. Not long after I went away for a long while. So I guess the arsonist remained and now. they're threatening you. Tomorrow I will go. I will fix the mess I left behind. I am so sorry it's affected you so badly. I'd love to meet these twins. They sound incredibly brave. They are. I finally interrupted. And I want to be there tomorrow. I want to lock Natalia away for good. I can't allow it. You'll be a

He cut me off entirely. I let it drop instantly, but in the back of my mind, I knew I would be there, no matter what. I went to sleep that night with my mind reeling. I wondered where Derek slept, and if he even needed to. The next morning, I left my flat early, passed the man on four five, and sat and waited on the steps at floor eight. I tested it, of course, and just like anticipated, ascending any higher, took me straight to floor 10, or 11, depending on if you hit a skip. So I returned to floor 8, and I waited. Derek hadn't indicated what time he was coming, but I was ready. I would wait all day and night if I had to, but luckily I didn't. Derek was climbing the stairs at around 11 a.m. I'd already been there for three hours, but it had been

worth it. He looked particularly unimpressed to see me. His face still looked kind, though. Even with the sour expression. I can't stop you, can I? He sighed, sounding resigned in his tone. Not for anything. You have to promise to stay back.

If you let your girl approaches, you can do what you need to do, but you have to stay back. He pleaded. I nodded in up. We ascended the stairs, and for the very first time in my new life here, I saw the big plastic sign saying nine, the floor that didn't exist. As we pushed through the door, it was like entering an entirely new world. Everything was black, burned to carbon. You could smell nothing but charcoal, literally nothing but empty shells of homes and flakes of what used to be sentimental

objects remained. It was devastating to witness. If you've ever visited a mass grave site, you'll understand partly how I was feeling. It was sickening to think of all the lives needlessly lost, but I didn't get time to think. Natalia walked towards me, flying down the hallway. How the fuck did you get here? She screamed. Her eyes were wide and angry. I started to feel hotter already. Derek grabbed my arm and pulled me next to him, making sure to keep a tight hold of my arm. Where do you live? Derek asked her. I started to back away as the sweat dropped from my brow. I desperately wanted to shout out the number. But I couldn't. I was so hot. I wasn't functioning properly. Everything became so overwhelming. I couldn't remember what Georgia had said, what Flat Natalia

had claimed to come from. I'm not that stupid. I saw what happened to them. She gestured over her shoulder to what must have been flat number 66, or a man laid on the floor, breathing but looking broken, just existing in that room. Prudence had been creative with the truth yet again. She didn't kill them. You can't kill them.

What had Georgia said? I racked my brains as I felt the same. skin on my face start to sting. I imagined her melting away. It was happening to me. I was next. And then, as my hair started to singe at the ends, it came to me. Seventy-one! I screamed as loud as I could. I could barely see as Derek grabbed her arm and ran towards me with her. She was clawing at his eyes and his face screaming at him to let go. But he didn't burn. He just kept hold of her. When he approached Flat 71, he beckoned me over.

You do it? Then get off of this floor. He was blunt, but reasonable. I complied. I pushed hard. There was nothing but anger in her eyes. She pushed my face hard with her hand, as I got her to cross the boundary into Flat 71.

I felt my skin sizzle and blister. My whole face was in agony, but I didn't stop pushing. Watching Natalia tried to fight her way out of the door that didn't exist was both satisfying and humorous. The others had started to approach at the sound of the commotion. I lingered, hoping to watch her suffer. But Derek shot me one look, and I knew it was time to go. I ran out the corridor on back into the stairwell. I stopped for longer than I probably should have, but I knew I might not get to see that nine again.

and it would be worth it. I waited for Derek on four and nine stairwell. I couldn't help but imagining the cultist burning to death the first time around. I could hear angry screams faintly from inside the corridor. I made me worry about Derek, but I knew that really I didn't need to. It took a while, but he eventually left the corridor and joined me in the stairwell. He didn't say anything.

He just looked at me in the third-degree burns across me. face. He didn't need to speak. I knew he'd fix the problem. We walked silently back down the stairs towards my flat. I looked back up at floor nine, knowing the building would seal it off for good. It took a few floors to reach four or seven, and I invited Derek in for a cup of tea. He rejected it, saying he wanted to go visit some old friends. Despite my injuries, I couldn't help but smile. something I'd done was going to help these residents. I stood at my door and watched Derek walk away, pleased that there was some true good in this building.

After a few steps down the hallway, Derek started to fade, almost like a CGI ghost in a movie. Every step he became more transparent. I felt my stomach turn again, like it had outside the lift. I ran out to follow him. I called after him, but by the time I had reached where he'd been, he was gone.

I walked the entire corridor to the window at the back. I looked out the window into the small concrete heavy garden and hoped to see him sat on the memorial bench. I didn't see him. Instead, I saw Prudence, hacking at my tiny planted patch with shears. When I saw her out the window, garden shears being gripped,

by both hands and a maniacal expression on her face. I just stood still. I was frozen to the spot in shock. I felt no pain at all from the burn on my face. Everything was numb. The relief of eradicating the imposter neighbors and the joy at finding a friend and Derek was hacked away in an instant.

Just like every leaf from my shrubs, why would she do this? What had I ever done to her? Every question possible crossed my mind. I could feel the frustration bubbling inside me. Everything about this place just threw up question after question. For every answer I got, there were ten new questions waiting to be asked. At that moment in time, though, only one was truly important.

How did Prudence know? I thought about Terry and her telephone conversations. I didn't want to think that the sweet lady I thought Terry had turned out to be would do that. But it did cross my mind. I thought of Ian the postman. I'd had bad vibes from him for a while. Maybe he'd seen Derek coming up the stairs while on his rounds that morning. I stood there frozen, pondering all these things,

until I saw Prudence collapse onto the memorial bench sobbing, head in her hands. She was surrounded by the remains of my attempt at a garden with the shears laid out on the floor. The stairs were kind to me on my way back down. It took four flights to make it to the bottom. I ran down the corridor and out the back entrance of the block. No idea what I was going to say.

Prudence! Was all I could manage. Nice one, cat. She sat bolt upright before turning and standing quicker than I thought possible for an old lady. You evil, stupid little girl, do you have any idea what you've done? She screamed. So much animation in her face that the spaces between her wrinkles pulsated like veins on an angry weightlifter.

Me? You think I'm evil? You left that shitty note hidden, missing everything I need to know and got my boyfriend killed. And what you're doing to your own... I screamed. tears beginning to roll before she interrupted me. Don't you dare talk about her! Her voice cracked and she broke down again,

this time falling to her knees, twigs and leaves sticking to the bottom of her dress. I didn't know what else to do, so I sat down on the floor. I knew that it was probably a bad idea. This woman couldn't be trusted, and I hadn't forgotten that. But seeing an old lady crum, on the cement floor still made me feel awful.

How did you know about the garden? I asked her calmly, trying to change my approach. She shoved a crumpled up piece of paper into my hand. She didn't look at me. Her eyes remained on the floor. Dear Prudence, I couldn't exist knowing what I'd done. I should never have told you about it. The last two won't grow stronger.

She was never theirs to begin with. But I have to end her suffering. I'm sorry. Derek. I knew what he had done as soon as I finished the note. Lila, or what was left of her, was gone for good. Of all the creatures, only Jamie's killers from the lift remained. That's how Derek had spent the few hours I'd slept between our encounters.

This is all your fault. My whole family is gone because of you. That hurt a lot. I trembled as I tried to speak, but I always really hated confrontation, and I could feel myself starting to glitch. How can you say that? I saw her, her,

and she was trapped in a tiny cage, eating dog food and small animals. Your family died in that lift, Just like my Jamie. I may have struggled to get my words out, but I wasn't about to let Prudence Hemmings blame me for her decisions. Lila was better off dead than what she was, however awful that may sound.

What happened to your face? Take you to visit floor number nine. He did this to her in the first place, not me, and now he's disfigured you. She was spinning things. I could feel throbbing as she mentioned my face. I really should have had medical attention. This isn't his fault?

You messed him up and he did that to her because of you. You told me that yourself. I tried ferociously to defend Derek, but something inside me still felt uncomfortable about what he had done. I couldn't help it. Lila was an innocent little girl who shouldn't have been punished for Prue's mistakes. This whole thing was such a... a mess. I was grieving. And then I had her back for all those years, and then I lost Bernie,

and then my home, and now I have to grieve for her all over again. Prudence continued to cry, but softer. I looked around the chaos she created, and up at the block my boyfriend had died in, and rolled my eyes in disbelief that she could be so selfish. She continued. Let me tell you about Lila. She was a beautiful little girl. As I mentioned before, I have two other older children. They've had many other grandchildren. However, I hadn't spoken to my eldest in two years even before what happened with Lila.

Lila was my first opportunity to get to know one of my grandchildren. Bernie adored her, too, always reading her stories and sneaking her sweets. I begged my son to allow her to stay. My children were all incredibly ungrateful. They had it easy growing up and still resented me. I gave them a good, strict upbringing, but they didn't appreciate it. They said I was a cruel mother. Lila's dad was the only one I spoke to.

But our relationship still wasn't that of a typical loving mother and son, but she was a second chance. It was a miracle when he agreed. I was more shocked he had convinced his wife to allow it. That awful harlot of a woman never liked me, although I didn't like her either. They refused to speak to me after everything I haven't heard from them since. They had more grandchildren I'll never meet.

I knew at the time my relationship with any of my children were over for good, so when Derek gave me a solution, I took it. I wasn't entirely truthful when we spoke. I said I hadn't wanted this, but I was desperate. There was never a way to bring her back safely. Derek explained what she would become to me. He was initially trying to put me off, even trying to get her back. I knew exactly what I was getting myself into.

But I couldn't pass up the idea of my beautiful little Lila needing her grandma forever. I suppose I was too ashamed to admit it before. But why should I be ashamed? My altercation with Derek happened after she was back when he tried to kill her the first time. Spouting the same things on that note what kind of monster wants to kill a little girl. That's why I trashed the garden. He said he wasn't coping with the news of the new block when he suggested it that he shouldn't have told me it was even possible and she had to die. I hid her until the bulldozers came in.

When he disappeared, I thought I was safe to spend the rest of my life with her. Bernie hated me. Spending time with Lila was all I live for. I grew to love her how she was. I felt sick. Listening to Prudence talk brought up so many repressed feelings about Jamie. I hadn't had time to grieve or process anything. I missed him terribly.

My old life and my old future felt a million miles away. I was relieved to know that Derek hadn't tricked Prudence or even intended to create Rat Lila. He was truly good. But she didn't get to have a life. You lived it for her, but she wasn't really living? How could a sane person do that to their own flesh and blood? You have no idea. This place can make you do irrational things, but she had a life.

She had me. It's all she needed. She was certainly right about the building and irrational actions. The pain intensifying on my face throbbed in agreement. but I was still convinced she had lost it, Dr. Frankenstein's style, where Rat Lila was concerned. She had stopped crying. Her rage levels were rising again, and I tried to tell her that it wasn't really the child she'd known, but she seemed to have grown an entirely new attachment to the creature that replaced what she'd lost.

Every rational argument I gave was met with increasing levels of screaming. She got less coherent as she went on. The arguing was going nowhere. We went back and forth for what felt like forever. After a while, she started to get closer to me. We had both stood up by this point, and despite her haggard and frail appearance, prudence was truly frightening. She looked unhinged.

Her words were no longer going in. I was overwhelmed and had too many thoughts rushing through my mind to process her ranting. I took a few steps back, clearing a small distance. between us. By this point, out of the corner of my eye, I could see neighbors in windows of the block, watching the altercation outside. Crew screaming had brought a lot of attention. It was bright, and I couldn't see well. But I turned to scan the windows and did recognize Eddie and Ellie and watching from their bedroom, trying to wave at me. They frantically waved and pointed. I tried waving back and gesturing to them.

But they kept pointing at me. Why were they pointing? Then I heard it. The garden shears scraping against the ground as poofs could be charged towards me. You ignorant little bitch! You aren't even listening! You don't deserve my home!

You killed her! The twins had been telling me to turn around. I shouldn't have taken my eyes off her. Luckily, unlike my earlier shock when I'd first seen her, I didn't freeze. My fight or flight instincts kicked in and I ran faster than I ever have before. I burst back into the building and heard neighbors on the bottom floor lock their doors in a symphony of bolts clicking. I couldn't blame them. Prudence wasn't far behind me and I wouldn't want to take her on in her curtained state of giving the chance.

But it didn't stop me pounding on their doors begging someone to call the police. although something told me that in this building, that wasn't going to happen. I ran up the stairs, still being followed by her. By the second floor, most were still locked, but a few had come out of their homes, armed with a variety of heavy objects. Even in a crisis, I couldn't fault the community spirit here. I ran another flight of stairs that became two, but still led me to floor three. And then to the back of the corridor, I pounded on tape.

Terry's door. My heart was racing, but when I turned, Prue was nowhere to be seen. I was hoping the people who came out on floor two had stopped her. But something was odd. I hadn't heard any commotion. This wasn't the end of it. Eddie and Ellie and Ellie hugged me tight as Terry let me in and bolted the door quickly behind me. I told her about what had happened. She couldn't believe what Prue had done. It turned out no one knew about Lila. I was edgy for the first hour, but Prue had disappeared. Terry helped to clean up my burn and put some cold compress on it. She offered to take me to the hospital, but I couldn't.

I was too shaken up from what had just happened. I couldn't face trying to explain how I'd sustained my injuries, and I still hadn't reported Jamie missing. He still hadn't had any messages from his family, and work had given up calling. But as friends had started, they were harassing me non-stop, but I had been too distracted to come up with a decent lie. It had been a week since I moved in, and it wouldn't be long until people realized something was seriously wrong. My conversations with my family had been short, with me insisting they didn't visit until we were unpacked and set up.

On top of a murderous old lady and an untold amount of abnormal issues, the real-world problems were starting to creep up on me. I sat with Terry for hours, drinking tea and chatting to her. It started to get dark, and Eddie and Ellie and Ellie came into the living room after playing in their room for a little while. The voids replaced the big, brown puppy dog eyes again, and their claws looked especially sharp. But to me, they were still adorable. Their transformation prompted me to head back to my flat. It was late. I needed to work out what to do next.

and how to dig myself out of this giant hole. I couldn't just keep planting gardens. I needed to do this myself. I wandered up the stairs. They went on for a while, but nothing too horrific. I passed the man on floor five, nodding politely, and continuing my ascent. I wondered if he'd received the letter of concern yet. He was a little unsettling.

When I got to my floor, Mr. Prentice was making him. his animal noises again. I smiled, which hurt my face. After all the madness, I was starting to find the seemingly benign horrors of this building, oddly comforting. I reached my flat and turned the key in the door before bolting myself in like Terry had. I could feel something wasn't right the moment I entered. The flat was in chaos, which was nothing new because we had only moved in a week ago, and I'd been too preoccupied to unpack, but things were out of place. The organized chaos wasn't how I'd left it. Then she strolled out of my kitchen, prudence Hemmings. She was carrying a large carving knife in her left hand this time. She had prepared for her attack. She smiled at me

and lifted her right hand, jingling the set of keys that she had entered with. I turned to emboldt the door, wrap me from behind before I could turn the handle to open it and held the knife to my throat. I will kill you for what you've done. She whispered into my ear. Without a second thought, I leaned forward just a tad and swung my head back as hard as I could. I couldn't believe that it worked, but I must have broken her nose. Prudence dropped the knife and clutched her face, blood streaming, between her fingers. I went to grab the knife, but she was closer in doing the same thing.

I had no option but to run again. I grabbed the door handle and turned it to exit the flat as she tried to stab me. I was mostly out of the door, but her arm was close enough to reach my side, and I felt the knife pierced the side of my torso. I was in searing pain, but I didn't stop running. As I stepped outside my flat, I could still hear Mr. Prentice's noises flooding the entire hallway. He gave me an idea. I ran towards his door, Prudent stabbing at me frantically with blood gushing from her nose. A few got me as I stopped outside Flat 48. The pain was awful and I could feel myself starting to drift out of consciousness.

I was losing a lot of blood. I would give my last breath to end Prue. So running on nothing but adrenaline, I knocked hard on Flat 48 and shouted, Mr. Prentice, can you help me? It was a shot in the dark. I didn't know what would happen, but I had to try something. She had stopped stabbing me. She was enjoying watching me bleed out slowly from the wound she had already inflicted.

I was incredibly weak, and I lost consciousness not long after that. But before I did, I heard heavy clunking from the inside of Flat 48, chain locks, speed, released and bolts being undone. I watched with blurry vision as a large creature that I can only describe as a cross between a bull and a wolf, charged out of the flat, and trampled the old witch to death. I heard her bones crunch just as I slipped away. I woke up in the hospital a day later. My parents were there, as were the police. Apparently I had been found just outside the tower block with my handbag missing by a neighbor who had been watching from a window as it happened. The police told me that the person had seen the mugging out of their window.

They had seen two men approach me and Jamie, splash something on my face, attack us, and when he tried to fight back, they bundled my boyfriend into a car, which the police had been searching for to no avail. He was officially missing. I was baffled, but grateful. that Janie's disappearance wouldn't be blamed on me. I went along with it and made it out that he had ghosted work to enjoy our first week living together. I had been stabbed four times, but thankfully in all the right places. If there is such a thing as the right place to be stabbed, I lost a lot of blood, but I was going to be fine. They were all shallow.

They assumed my burns were chemical and happy during the mucking too. The police promised to keep us updated, but they still can't find the car. They never will. I wish the story the police had been told were true. It left some hope for Jamie. My parents weren't keen on me returning to the flat after what happened. They said the area was too rough, and that I was living proof it wasn't safe. They offered to collect my stuff from me.

I insisted, though, told them that I wanted to see how it felt, and they couldn't force me not to. I was released from the hospital two days after I woke up in there. When I arrived at the flats, it was so strange. It felt like home, despite everything. Something about this place drew me to it. I took the lift for the first time since Jamie had died. I had to. I wasn't recovered enough to conquer too many stairs just yet, and I couldn't guarantee they'd be kind to me. I smiled at the lack of a button nine and winced at the thought of the creatures. As I reached my corridor, I saw Mr. Prentice walking along with his newspaper and milk in a bag. He turned to me and smiled.

I wasn't sure you'd come back. It's nice to see you're up and walking. He made small talk as if I hadn't seen him literally trample a woman to death a couple days prior. The whole experience had been so disorienting. that I started to wonder if I really had been mugged and had dreamed the note in everything that's happened since. Then he said something that confirmed everything was real. I've never liked that woman, but you've got a real friend in the lady downstairs.

He winked at me and turned the key in his door. I got into mine and sat down on the second-hand sofa. I felt empty but relieved with Prue and the important. poster neighbors all gone. The only threat left were the creatures in the lift. There were only a threat between 111 and 333. Maybe I could start to live a semi-peaceful life in this place. Terry knocked on the door, my handbag that I had left at hers before Prue attacked in my flat on her arm. Mr. Prentice was right. She was a good friend. I thanked her for what she'd done and for what She told the police.

She said it was pure luck that she found me. She had been walking up to return my bag and found me and Prue sprawled out on the floor. I asked what had happened to Prue's body, and she just pointed to the direction of Flat 48. He was eating it, she said. It's been a few days now, and I've decided to stay. I can't imagine going back to complete normality after everything I've been through, and I've grown quite attached to some of the building's quirks. I tried replanting the garden with the help of the twins.

I ripped a few stitches doing it, and Derek never came. I think he's gone for good. I'm ready to fully embrace life here. The last few days have been hard, but there's some time to breathe. Along with the time to breathe came the time to grieve, and I've been grieving badly for Jamie. This leads me to the last thing I have to tell you. Last night I laid in bed, plagued with thoughts of Peru and everything that had happened.

But what I couldn't get to leave my mind was how much happiness it brought her to have Lila back. It infected every part of my thoughts. I know you all wanted me not to, but I did it. I repeated the ritual. I haven't caught him yet, but I've heard the scratching. Jamie's back.