The Tower of Menace

Chapter 2: The next steps.

So much has happened already. 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.

I’m following Mrs Hemming’s rules. I’ve followed them to the letter so far, and behold I’m still alive. That’s not to say it hasn’t been tough.

I am going crazy. And Jamie still hasn’t returned. He has been gone for almost 24 hours. His work place 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 paralysed to our sofa for almost half an hour before I found the nerve to leave the flat. It was 4.02 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. It’s 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 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 7 and turned my key in flat 42, the perfect home that felt anything but home at that point.

I sat at the cheap flat pack dining table we’d managed to put together on move-in day and cried. My hands shaking as I held my phone.

I was 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 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 at the clock and it was 8.23, 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, 8.54 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 new tenant.” He stated, but in a way that it sounded like a question. I struggled with my answer, so I got straight to the point.

“Mrs Hemmings 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 hands 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 will 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 neighbour.

“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. I’ve seen it all, everything Prue’s 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 grandad 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 greying hair boot polish black.

His demeanour was thankfully non threatening but extraordinarily cocky. He was the sort of man I imagined in a betting shop, rubbing his grubby hands on notes as he bragged over a win.

He didn’t ask as he lit a cigarette in my 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 in the lift. My boyfriend is missing and he took the lift at quarter past 3 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 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 traumatised. Your boy is gone, let go and follow 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 irresponsible 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, I 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 Hemmings 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 is what I was told.

Little Lyla 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. Lyla was her sons little girl and that night She was staying over for the first time. Prue finally felt confident that she could protect Lyla from all the strange things that happen here...

She was wrong. Little Lyla had a problem with sleepwalking. And she took a trip into the hallway at half 1 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 Lyla’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. They’re something to do with the building and all its quirks, no ones ever seen them elsewhere. We don’t know where they came from, just that they’re here.

I’ve seen them a few times over the years, usually when new neighbours 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 fed they can become quite viscous looking for more food.

That’s why you have to bin 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 granddaughters 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 residents safety at all times, but if anyone wanders into the lift between 1.11 and 3.33am they are fair game.

This timeframe 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’s 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. “Emergencies only, I don’t like to be bothered.”

“You can’t go! The note said you would help me!” I exclaimed.

“And I will!” He snapped back, “when there’s something I can help with. I can’t resurrect your boyfriend and I don’t like to be late delivering the post. I will see you soon love.”

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 creatures, and it isn’t going to bring your boy back. Mr Prentice hates it when 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 here 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 just sobbed, heartbroken. I was so conflicted as to what do to. It 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 ceiling I drifted off.

About three hours ago, I woke up, staring at the goddamn damp patch on the ceiling and could hear chatting in the living room. I jumped out of bed and walked towards it.

Georgia was on the sofa, with a middle 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 i***t with no understanding of when to not 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 tragedy with Georgia after she had left but until then I would be neighbourly.

“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 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.*

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. Anyone in the UK knows that it’s been a hot for 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 mine 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 flaked and 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 a 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 had set it down on burned 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 weaponising, 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 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 it’s skin caused more burns up my lower arms, shut the door and watched through the peep hole. She got up and held her hand to the wound, cauterising it and walking off towards the lift. As if she hadn’t been injured at all.

I’d dropped the cat by that point but every bit of n***d 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 i.d. She’s my best friend and I want to be there but if I own up to involvement in injuries that bad they’ll suspect me, and I lose the already slim chance that Jamie might be saveable. 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 think could 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.