Uneasy omens
Having parked the bike near the entrance, Dan walked towards the building numbered 47.
It seemed grey at some distance, but as Dan closed in, he noticed that it was really coloured white, though the walls had some diffuse stains of something grey in colour that, Dan assumed, was dry dampness.
As in other buildings in the town, the neatness was somewhat overlooked; but place were Dan was living, back in Remesh, wasn't in better condition and Dan had never, actually, cared that much about it, so it would be only normal.
Anyway, he rushed into the entrance's intercom, from which he could press the buttons the the floors.
Dan felt that, in a time like that, he shouldn't hesitate with commiseration and began pushing buttons. He could hear some ringers buzzing inside the building. It would be a matter of minutes; someone would tell him where the police station was located, or some other form of help. He kept pressing the buttons, but no one replied. Dan became upset. He sighed, and for an instant, closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the wall.
Suddenly, the entrance door, as if it had a will of it's own, slid open, giving Dan yet another scare. He had goggled eyes, as he stared at it, then quickly observed the surroundings.
The wind had occasional bursts, and apparently, the door wasn't shut, only half-open.
Dan hesitated, thinking of what he should do; he wouldn't feel safe inside, but he wasn't that much safe out there in the street, either. He entered, advancing in the dark cautiously, foot by foot. with a hand in his handbag, where he had the handgun. He reached for the switch that would put on the building's hall lights.
Surprised, Dan realized that a few of the floor's (and even the wall's) tiles were cracked or displaced, along with some papers scattered all over the place. The hall was a mess. Dan advanced across the chaos towards the door in the left. The door had dust all over and narrow chinks; it seemed like it was the janitor's tools shack, or something of sorts.
Then, Dan climbed the stairs, to the 1st floor, where there were three doors in the small rectangular hallway. Two vases with flowers were lying on the floor, filling it with soil and petals The tiles were also randomly displaced.
One of the doors, the one in front, had a dinner table stacked in front of it, and some oak tree boards nailed, chaotically, to the door post, as if to barricade the other side. The closest door was, again, on the left. As he was going to ring the bell, the lights went out.
Startled, he rapidly searched the switch in the wall and pushed it. The lights came back. When he approached the door, he noticed that it was already opened.
"What ? ", thought Dan, as he rang the bell, waited for a moment and went inside. The sound of clocks ticking muffled another sound, that Dan couldn't make out so well. As far as the hallway lights could illuminate, he could discern a furniture item with a phone on top. " At last, found a phone...", Dan cheered. However, a bit to the right, on the floor, Dan noticed something besides the dirt; something that was spilled and was drying. There was blood on the floor.
It seemed grey at some distance, but as Dan closed in, he noticed that it was really coloured white, though the walls had some diffuse stains of something grey in colour that, Dan assumed, was dry dampness.
As in other buildings in the town, the neatness was somewhat overlooked; but place were Dan was living, back in Remesh, wasn't in better condition and Dan had never, actually, cared that much about it, so it would be only normal.
Anyway, he rushed into the entrance's intercom, from which he could press the buttons the the floors.
Dan felt that, in a time like that, he shouldn't hesitate with commiseration and began pushing buttons. He could hear some ringers buzzing inside the building. It would be a matter of minutes; someone would tell him where the police station was located, or some other form of help. He kept pressing the buttons, but no one replied. Dan became upset. He sighed, and for an instant, closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the wall.
Suddenly, the entrance door, as if it had a will of it's own, slid open, giving Dan yet another scare. He had goggled eyes, as he stared at it, then quickly observed the surroundings.
The wind had occasional bursts, and apparently, the door wasn't shut, only half-open.
Dan hesitated, thinking of what he should do; he wouldn't feel safe inside, but he wasn't that much safe out there in the street, either. He entered, advancing in the dark cautiously, foot by foot. with a hand in his handbag, where he had the handgun. He reached for the switch that would put on the building's hall lights.
Surprised, Dan realized that a few of the floor's (and even the wall's) tiles were cracked or displaced, along with some papers scattered all over the place. The hall was a mess. Dan advanced across the chaos towards the door in the left. The door had dust all over and narrow chinks; it seemed like it was the janitor's tools shack, or something of sorts.
Then, Dan climbed the stairs, to the 1st floor, where there were three doors in the small rectangular hallway. Two vases with flowers were lying on the floor, filling it with soil and petals The tiles were also randomly displaced.
One of the doors, the one in front, had a dinner table stacked in front of it, and some oak tree boards nailed, chaotically, to the door post, as if to barricade the other side. The closest door was, again, on the left. As he was going to ring the bell, the lights went out.
Startled, he rapidly searched the switch in the wall and pushed it. The lights came back. When he approached the door, he noticed that it was already opened.
"What ? ", thought Dan, as he rang the bell, waited for a moment and went inside. The sound of clocks ticking muffled another sound, that Dan couldn't make out so well. As far as the hallway lights could illuminate, he could discern a furniture item with a phone on top. " At last, found a phone...", Dan cheered. However, a bit to the right, on the floor, Dan noticed something besides the dirt; something that was spilled and was drying. There was blood on the floor.
posted by tensayoki @ 00:40
