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Infected Town: Series One (Part 2)

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Hey nosleep. Thanks for all your help and advice. Dean and his girlfriend still haven’t gotten back to me. Neither has Samantha, which is even stranger (she and I are best-best friends). I don’t like this at all.

The most advised course of action was to go to Dean’s apartment and check it out. I was super nervous about this, since I’m a lone girl with absolutely no idea how to fight anything - supernatural or otherwise. But, taking what I know from my favorite show, when I got into town I immediately stole my mother’s big container of salt and grabbed a wrought iron poker from her fireplace. You should’ve seen the look on her face when I explained I was going ghost hunting.

I went during the day, because I’m not an idiot. Everything outside the building looked normal - cars, trees, birds, crap like that. When I looked up to Dean’s window on the third floor, however, something struck me as odd: the blinds were closed. I’m over there a lot, and I’ve never seen his blinds closed. I didn’t even know what color they were - kind of grayish-black.

My plan of action was to just wait around outside the building and slip in when someone who lived there opened the door. So I stood there and smoked a cigarette and waited for like twenty minutes. I called Samantha, just to see, but again there was no response.

As I was getting bored and frustrated, the thought occurred to me to use the call box outside and call Dean’s apartment. Stupid not to think of it earlier. Heart-rate accelerating, I went up and pressed #338.

The phone rang three times. Then it was picked up. At least, I’m pretty sure it was. The ringing usually went on a lot longer than that if Dean wasn’t home. But no one said anything - there was just silence from the other end.

Then whoever it was buzzed me in.

Truth be told, this didn’t scare me at all. In fact, it made me really happy. Something must just be wrong with Dean’s phone. I kind of figured he could receive messages but couldn’t send them. Or something. You know how phones can be.

So, all light and bouncy, I skipped up to the elevator and rode to floor three. Again, everything looked perfectly normal in the hallways - not even a flickering light bulb. The building is older, so it can be a little creepy, but I wasn’t feeling anxious anymore. I was going to go see Dean and everything was okay.

When I got to his door, I found it shut but unlocked. Something strange - the brass numbers that used to hang on it, 338, were gone. Just six little nail holes in the cheap wood. It gave me pause, made me wonder if I was at the right door, but a quick glance around told me I was. None of the neighbors had lost their numbers. I knocked, but there was no reply. Dean can be kind of a dick like that, though.

I opened the door and stepped inside.

I kind of wish I hadn’t.

The first thing I noticed was how dark it was with those blinds drawn. I tripped over a pair of shoes as I walked down their short hallway to the living room and cursed, then called “Hello?” Again, no reply. I flipped the light switch, and the overhead light came on kind of yellow and dim, like it was an old bulb.

Hastily, I went over and opened the blinds, thankful for the sunlight. The atmosphere in there was just sort of... unnerving. Which was strange, because that apartment is practically a second home to me.

I was alone in the apartment, I knew that now. It made my heart sink and my stomach flop. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. Gripping my iron poker, I quickly checked the bedroom and bathroom, even the fucking closets, just to make sure. No one else was here with me. So who had buzzed me in?

I looked for the cat, but she didn’t seem to be around. Her bowl was empty, her water dry. I filled them, just in case, and opened a window so she could get in and out.

Other than that, nothing seemed out of place. The computer was still running. Dirty dishes filled the sink. All the lights worked, even if they were kind of yellow. The place was tidy yet lived-in, as usual. It was just that Dean and his girlfriend weren’t here.

Then, desperate for some kind of human interaction, I called Samantha again. The phone wasn’t to my ear for five seconds before I heard something buzzing in the kitchen. I went to check, feeling flushed and cold at the same time.

Her phone was lying there on the tiled floor.

As soon as I picked it up - the instant my fingers touched it - there was a crash from somewhere down the hallway, in the direction of Dean’s room or the bathroom. Like someone had just knocked over a big pile of junk.

My courage failed me, even if it was only the cat. I sprinted the fuck out of there, slamming the door behind me. I took the stairs two at a time.

It wasn’t until I was in my car, when my adrenaline had stopped buzzing so fiercely, that I realized how different it felt outside of that building. When I was in Dean’s apartment, I’d had goosebumps and my hair was standing on end. It felt like there were eyes on me the whole time. This was only highlighted when contrasted with the normalcy of the outside.

So now I have Samantha’s phone. It’s locked, but I think I can figure out the code with relative ease. And my friends seem to be missing. I have no idea what to do about that. It makes me feel both helpless and angry. Should I call the cops?

One thing’s for sure, something’s not right. I need to figure this out. Any ideas?

I’ll update if I find something. 

---

Credits

 

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