Chapter 9: The Forgotten Key

But then I realized: I hadn’t given the new key for the replaced lock cylinder to the woman in Apartment 1404. My mind must have been muddled from the scare.

I cursed under my breath, fumbling through my pockets. The new key was still there, warm from my hand. No big deal, just a quick knock and handoff.

I hurriedly knocked on her door. No answer. I was puzzled—the woman had just closed the door; she couldn’t have gone far. Maybe she was just too frightened to respond. I could even imagine her standing right at the door, peering at me through the peephole.

The silence on the other side was heavy. I knocked again, harder this time. Still nothing. I pressed my ear to the wood, straining for any sound—breathing, footsteps, anything.

I kept knocking and explained that I just wanted to give her the new key, but there was still no response.

My voice sounded thin, echoing in the empty hallway. I felt a wave of unease creep up again, the hair on my neck prickling.

Seeing that knocking was useless, I pulled out my phone and called her number from my call history. As soon as the call connected, I heard her phone ringing—but the sound wasn’t coming from inside the apartment.

The ringtone was faint, but unmistakable—a generic melody, muffled and distant. I froze, confusion turning quickly to dread.

It was coming from behind me.

Somewhere, not far, that familiar sound kept repeating, like a warning bell.

I spun around. The ringtone was coming from the stairwell entrance.

My pulse pounded in my ears. The air suddenly felt colder, tighter. I took a tentative step toward the sound.

How could that be? The woman had clearly gone inside—so why was her phone ringing at the stairs?

Questions tumbled through my mind, each one more frantic than the last. I tried to rationalize—maybe she dropped her phone, maybe she slipped out behind my back. But the dread wouldn’t let go.

The ringtone echoed sharply in the silent corridor, piercing and eerie. The stairwell light came on again. I walked over and looked inside.

I hesitated at the threshold, the light flickering as if it could barely keep up. Each note of the ringtone set my nerves on edge. I forced myself forward, peering down the concrete steps.