The People In My Apartment Building Are Disappearing
You never really think about the last time you'll talk to someone you know. Not like family or close friends, but people you know in passing. Acquaintances. People like Rob from apartment 104.
The last time I talked to Rob from apartment 104, we were shooting the shit. Small talk, nothing of any substance. He was a cool guy; real laid back and supportive. He had a trans flag sticker on his car, reposted anti-nazi stuff on socials, and bragged all the time about his nephew being top of his class. He seemed totally fine the last time we chatted. I did notice his hand was bandaged, but he said something about a cooking accident and shrugged it off.
I was surprised to find a hand-written letter from him later that day, and confused when it predicted him disappearing. This is what it said:
Hey Tim,
I know you might think this is weird, sending a letter like we're not close to each other, but this felt like the safest way. Oh, thanks again for lending me that game, it was fun. Swing by and grab it any time, I won't be there but it's on the dining table for you. I made sure before I left.
Which brings me to the point of this letter. When you read this, I will have already been gone. I stumbled on something I can't explain and it noticed me. I can't really say (or write, I guess) any more but I need you to do one thing for me. When you come grab your game, just take it and leave. Don't look around, don't go into the other rooms, and whatever you do, don't pick up anything except for the game.
Sincerely,
Rob
The whole thing felt weird, but the warning at the end felt oddly specific, like there was some object he wanted me to avoid. If whatever he was worried about me finding was related to his disappearance, I figured I would know it when I saw it and not picking it up would be easy, so I made a mental note to grab the game back later and went on with my day.
And then I forgot about it. For two weeks.
The cops finally showed up after Rob's boss called them to report him missing, and a couple came out here, but they left pretty quick. Apparently, they chalked it up to him skipping town and closed the case. So here I am, letter in hand, staring at the words Rob wrote and wondering what the hell he got into. I'll go into his apartment later and grab my game, and maybe rake a quick look around. The cops left a few hours after they showed up and didn't give off any vibes that the place was weird, so I'm planning to go after I finish this. Rob gave me a spare key a few months ago "just in case" and now I'm wondering how long he thought this might happen.
Anyway, wish me luck.
—
Holy shit I don't know what he was into but Rob had some insane shit going on. Uh, okay let me start from getting in.
I grabbed the key from where I found it and headed over to his door. I went to knock for a second like he was going to answer without really realizing; I guess habit is hard to break even when you know it doesn't matter anymore. So I unlocked the door with the key and opened it into his entry area. It looked the same as always; kitchen and bathroom on the left, living are straight back with the sliding door at the back of the living room and what I guessed was his bedroom door on the left-hand wall just past the half wall separating the kitchen from the living room. The place looked like he had just stepped out for pizza or something, not like he had been gone for weeks. Hell, it didn't even look like the cops had done anything more than just stand around, which wouldn't have surprised me. Rob's .family came from Egypt and he had the features to prove it.
So I walked in and looked around the main area, taking in this snapshot of a man's life caught before he was erased from it, almost like he was Photoshopped out of his own life. Thinking about it made me shudder and I wanted to leave, but a part of me was curious. The letter mentioned not taking anything and really emphasized it, like there would be something here that stood out, but nothing did. The fridge was working even if most of the stuff inside had gone bad a week ago, a thawed out frozen meal was sitting in the microwave, and a glass sat on the counter by the sink. The coffee table in the main area had a magazine, the remote, a game console controller, and my game sitting there so I grabbed it and turned to leave.
As I did, something caught my eye: movement from the bedroom door. I froze, immediately beginning to panic.
Is his sister here? Or his dad? Shit, or someone robbing the place? I should leave. This was so stupid, I need to get out of here.
I began backing towards the door as slowly as I could, ready to go back home and forget about this. I had my game and that was all that connected me to this place and Rob. It sucks, looking back. I think we could have been pretty close friends if either of us had been a little more brave.
I realized I was straining to move further away. I wanted so badly to leave. Rob was a good guy and all, but he had pissed off the mob for all I knew and they made him disappear for some slight. I didn't want to know what he did, much less get vanished myself for looking into it. So why was my body refusing to move? I stood there, stiff as a board, damn near shaking with effort, but something compelled me to stop, to open the door and see what was on the other side. Because I knew, somewhere deep and primal and base, that whatever was on the other side of that door was not a single man's bedroom. Something cold and alien waited for me, urging me to open the door, to let it in. Fear squeezed my lungs empty and sweat ran down my back as slowly, painfully slowly and with every cell in my body, every fiber of my being screaming in protest, my hand reached out and gripped the doorknob. I could see movement under the door again out of the corner of my eyes as something positioned itself right in front of me on the other side of the door. My heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to lock up or explode, a heavy ball of nausea formed in the pit of my stomach, and the muscles in my legs screamed and strained trying to move my unwilling body away, to escape the certain death that would erupt from the door the instant it opened. I could hear, above the roaring of my blood and thundering of my heartbeat, something old and hungry and excited making some noise like laughter, its tone condescending and mocking and gleeful, reveling in snaring me in this trap. I couldn't move, couldn't speak, I could barely think as the knob turned and I felt dread and panic fuse into some baser instinct to get away from this thing that would hurt me, kill me, eat me. I could hear the wet scuttling of something as the knob reached the end of its turn and the latch retracted. I could feel the temperature in the air drop as the door began to crack open like a seam in reality being ripped apart. I could hear the thing on the other side getting louder and louder as the door creaked open. Terrified and helpless, my eyes as wide as they could be and a scream climbing up my throat, I threw open the door and flung myself backwards in a burst of adrenaline-fueled movement, tumbling backwards onto the floor and scrambling desperately to stand, eyes darting around the apartment and settling on the doorway, revealing an empty bedroom.
Confusion fought with fear for control of my mind as I swiveled around, looking for some alien threat, some ghost or monster mid pounce with teeth and claws and who knows what else seeking purchase on my soft flesh, but there was nothing. Bursting into the bedroom, I frantically searched for the source of the movements from before only to find that I was still alone. Adrenaline began giving way to exhaustion as my body's response went wasted and I sat down hard on the edge of the bed, feeling equally stupid and relieved.
What the hell was that? It can't have been my imagination. Maybe his cat? Did Rob have a cat?
Pets were not allowed in the building so I doubted it, but couldn't come up with a reasonable alternative despite not seeing food or water bowls in the kitchen, let alone toys or one of those cat tower things. I gave the bedroom another look through, this time much calmer, but everything still looked normal. I gave a half-hearted glance in the smaller bathroom on the left wall next to a closed closet door, then went over to the closet, feeling not even a faint echo of the absolute terror from a few minutes ago, and opened it.
Behind the row of jackets and sweaters, under a shelf holding a few old board games and a box labeled Pictures, was a small shelf carved into the drywall. It must have been covered up with an electrical box panel at one point, but that had been set to the side, revealing the treasure hidden inside. A small statue of… something, sat on a pedestal or throne, all carved out of some purple stone. The creature was really roughly carved, like the artist had a rough idea of what it looked like but couldn't figure out the details, but there was a splotch of darker red on the statue creature's head and the pedestal had some weird markings on it, like some kind of runes or fantasy script. It didn't look like any monster I knew of in the tabletop games I had played, but an expensive statue like this must have been important somehow. I looked over it pretty thoroughly, taking in as many of the details as I could before closing everything up and leaving the room. I picked up my game from where I had dropped it earlier and stopped at the front door, turning to take in the apartment again before leaving.
I went straight back to my own apartment, a mirrored layout of Rob's, and closed and locked the door. I sat down on my old leather couch, a hand-me-down from my parents, set down the game on the coffee table, and the realized that I still had the statue. I stared at it, my blood running cold, thoughts frozen in shock.
It's still on the coffee table, staring at me as I type this out. I tried to find Rob's letter to reread it but I can't remember where I left it. Did I throw it away?
I don't know what I'll do next, but I'll update this once I figure that out.
—
Rob's apartment is gone.
Not cleaned out, not burned out or flooded and gutted or taped off by the cops, it's gone. The door is gone. The balcony is gone. What's worse is that no one seems to have noticed. There isn't a new 104, either, it just goes 103, 105. The scariest thing, though, is that no one else remembers Rob. Not neighbors, not the maintenance guy, not even the landlord. It's like the apartment was torn out of its place in the world and the space was taped closed. Something made Rob vanish and then took his home to hide whatever evidence it left behind. When I asked about the cops being here, I only got vague answers about some kind of argument that got out of hand. No one remembers the apartment, either.
I also tried to look into the statue, but none of the searches I did got anything useful. I even tried a reverse image search on the whole thing and just the runes, but all I got back were some fantasy script generators and a Google Translate page set to Abkhaz. Apparently the runes translate to "Hold the dog turtle sideways" so that could be something? I got a little desperate and called some libraries in town and our local university, but everyone thought it was a prank or ARG, which are basically fancy scavenger hunts, and politely asked me to not call them again.
On the plus side, I haven't been attacked by anything yet, and whatever was behind Rob's door hasn't come back. Unless that was all in my head. This whole thing is messing with me pretty badly. I keep feeling like someone is watching me when I go out, and I've priced things seem slightly out of place in my apartment when I get back, and every time I fall asleep lately I wake up drenched in sweat feeling like I had the worst nightmares of my life, but I can't remember anything. I hated going to work before all this but now I can't stand it. The subway's too crowded, the bus makes me feel stuck in the open too long, walking takes forever and I'm completely exposed, and driving myself means paying for 9 hours of parking every day, assuming I'm not stuck there longer.
All that to say, it's been a rough few days.
I don't know if I'll find anything helpful, but I'm going to try a few message boards and send some emails to places I haven't called yet. It feels like a long shot but maybe someone somewhere knows something. I just need this to start making some kind of sense.
—
The message boards were a good idea. There were some people assuming it was fake, but I had some people who actually believed me- or at least played along, but they still helped. I also found a letter that I apparently got from Rob I copied onto the first post I wrote, but I don't remember him giving me a letter. I'm adding the stuff that the message board guys said just in case. I just copied the earlier posts and asked what they think I should do. This is what I got:
xXDarkDragonXx: oh great another arg
me: arg? Oh, no this isn't a scavenger hunt thing
greasysolenoid: bro ppl need to chill with these
dagonsballs: sick concept, digging the lovecraft vibes
me: do you think the stuff he wrote is connected? I'm not too familiar with the actual stories
greasysolenoid: idk seems played out
xXDarkDragonXx: whatever, im out
me: like i sort of remember the one with the boat and the one at the fishing town but i haven't read much of his stuff
sqwertykeys: I'll play along, have you noticed any other apartments get erased?
dagonsballs: oh yeah, any numbers get skipped? Seems like it's not changing stuff, just unexisting it
me: uh, not that I can think of but i don't know how to check, like i said in the post it's like everyone just forgot the apartment should be there or something
millionbrainboy: try finger but hole
bradpittstwin: did you try not playing pretend?
modexanderthegreat: you should shove the statue up your ass, I bet the monster would like it
greasysolenoid: okay guys I think this is lame too but be cool
sqwertykeys: hey guys, this is clearly OP's first try so let them try stuff
me: first try? I really need help
dagonsballs: have you tried flipping the runes on the statue around and searching that? Or maybe it's a Cesar cypher, can you post a pic of the code?
me: oh no, that might be a good idea I'll try it
anonymous: Rejoice
anonymous: You have been chosen
me: who is this?
sqwertykeys: hey dude, I don't want to tell you how to run your thing but I would wait on the alt accounts for a bit
me: no this isn't me
anonymous: He lurks, watching
dagonsballs: oh is this a question thing? Is that what the runes say?
me: question thing? I don't know who this guy is
anonymous: He will consume all, leaving only a shell
dagonsballs: is that what the runes say, or
anonymous: the ignorant shall be stripped of sanity and devoured
dagonsballs: I guess not
sqwertykeys: you probably didn't ask the right question
me: seriously this isn't me
sqwertykeys: Who will consume?
bradpittstwin: consume deez nuts
supermonkeyballfan116: I'll consume ur mom
millionbrainboy: air horn noises
anonymous: Fear not the presence at the door. Listen for the knock, and let it in. Behold the naked glory of our dreadful saviors and bask in their cold hateful beauty as your mind is torn asunder, your body made kindling to warm their bones.
anonymous: For'gthalhra ln! Et ny, griln'tla!
anonymous: Rejoice!
anonymous: The hour of planar sliding is at hand! A Hive is given form upon our sphere, and they shall issue forth and consume all!
A user has been banned from this chat
sqwertykeys: thanks mods
dagonsballs: aw, it was just getting good
greasysolenoid: I take it back OP that was pretty fun
I have no idea who that anonymous user was or how much they know about this, but the other users either left or just asked when the next chapter was going to drop so I just closed the web page. Still, weirdo aside for the moment I had something I could look into. I'm going to try and see if any other apartments are missing, I'll update this if I find anything.
—
I learned two things through my investigation. First, it definitely happened again, this time to a young woman in 125. I was walking around trying to count apartments to see if any numbers were missing, and she was sitting in against her apartment door, forehead touching her knees and hyperventilating slightly.
Me: "Uh, hello, miss. Are you okay?"
She didn't respond, or even react to me, so I tried again.
Me: "Uh, miss? Are you doing okay?"
Her hands twitched and she lifted her head, and I remembered that I've talked to her before. "Oh, Mary, sorry, I didn't realize it was you for a second. What's going on?"
Mary lived in 125, and had been there for a couple of years at this point. We weren't super close, but we had chatted at some local events and stuff. She was nice, but quiet.
Mary: "Tim, hi. H-how are you? Sorry, I wasn't trying to ignore you. I'm fine, just… dealing with some things." She got up, wiping her eyes a little and straightening her clothes. She smiled, but it seemed forced.
Me: "Do you need help?" I felt bad, wondering if she was going through a breakup or something. Compared to the shit I was dealing with, something so normal seemed almost nice. I winced a little at that thought, but she didn't seem to notice.
Mary: "No, I don't want to drag you into it, but thank you. I was hoping to talk to Rob, but…"
I furrowed my brow at that. "Rob? Oh, is he a boyfriend?" She looked absolutely devastated for a second, and maybe something else, but she covered it quickly. Must be a sore subject.
She smiled again, more sadness leaking through this time, and shook her head. "No, just a friend who hasn't been around lately. I need to get going, I'll see you later, Tim."
She went into her apartment and closed the door before I could really respond. I gave a weak "Okay, see you later then." and stood for a second, having forgotten what I was doing before. I looked down at my hand and saw the paper I had with numbers written down as well as a pen, and remembered. I went up to her apartment and knocked harder than I meant to, excitement and panic rising up equally.
Me: "Mary open up. I remember Rob and I know what happened to him. I need to talk to you, please. I don't know what's happening but something really weird is happening and Rob's gone and his apartment is gone and I think I'm next."
She didn't answer. I kept trying for another 20 minutes, but she never answered and I didn't hear anything from inside. I eventually left the door and started walking away. I was four doors down, checking each door number, when I thought I heard her door close. Thinking she changed her mind, I whipped around and started to say something, but the words died in my throat and my blood ran cold.
When I looked back, her door was gone. Just like Rob's. I blinked and it was there again, between 124 and 127 right where it was supposed to be. I want to say that I went back and opened the door, or demanded she open it, or even stayed there until she left again so I could talk to her, but I didn't. I ran, because I'm a coward. I ran and didn't stop until I was down the hall and around the corner, leaned over and gasping for breath. I couldn't stop shaking from adrenaline and looked up, seeing the second thing I had mentioned earlier.
Stairs leading up to a second floor.
—
I used to think I was a rational man. Not super skeptical, necessarily, but I figured that most everything had some kind of explanation, even if it wasn't something we understood. I have tried to apply that rationality to everything happening to me and the building, but I just can't. Nothing explains how people are disappearing, let alone entire apartments or floors, apparently.
I don't remember the stairs. I don’t remember finding them or if I climbed them. The only reason I know I saw them is because I went back and reread this entire thread. I felt a little better about feeling like this after I finished, but I don't remember Rob or his letter, Mary, or the stairs. I tried to retrace my steps but couldn't find an apartment 125 anywhere, let alone a set of stairs. The apartment building wasn't that big anyway, there were only about a dozen apartments down the single hallway running through the center of the inside.
The place had some quirks, sure. Some toys left by neighborhood kids and the odd shoe or mat that didn't belong to anyone in the building would show up, but it was a nice place. Reading through everything I had apparently written, it was really hard to believe. I couldn't even remember writing it, and I thought that maybe it was some kind of prank or something.
Still, something felt off. No, not off, broken. Shattered. Like everything that happened more than a few hours ago was constantly being erased from my mind. Logically, I knew everything I read was written by me. It was on my laptop in a text document, of course it was me. No one else lived here. Right? I didn't think so, I only saw the one bedroom and I was pretty sure it was mine. I had to try and figure out what was going on, but focusing was hard. Thinking about all this made my head hurt after a while, too. I wondered if maybe something was just wrong with me, like I was sick or something, but I couldn't think of any diseases that caused this weird memory loss and my family didn't have a history of dementia or anything. As far as I knew, which wasn't very far at all anymore.
The worst part was this weird statue I found in the closet. I can't remember what I was doing in the closet anymore, but I do remember grabbing it and putting it on the coffee table. I've been staring at it. It's this weird creature sat on a pedestal or throne, all carved out of some purple stone. The creature was really roughly carved, like the artist had a rough idea of what it looked like but couldn't figure out the details, but there was a dark red splotch on the statue creature's head and the pedestal had writing on it. It took a few minutes for me to read it, but I was able to make out this message:
For'gthalhra ln! Et ny, griln'tla!
It seems vaguely familiar, but I can't figure out why. My head hurts when I look at the statue, especially the thing on top. I'm going to try to sleep off this headache and then see what I can do.
The red is blood if you bleed in the statue you remember but I don't understand where is my door please help it sees me it sees me it knows I see it too
I don't know how long I've been here but things got worse. I'm the only one left in the building. I feel weirdly lucid right now so I'll write as much as I can before it slips away.
—
The first thing I remember is waking up. My hand was throbbing from a cut in the palm and the statue on the coffee table was smeared in my blood. I was delirious for a little while, but slowly crawled back into my right mind. I stood up, wobbling a little, and found some medical gauze I had stored in a first-aid kit to wrap my hand, then I took something for the pain. It didn't help.
I tried to collect my thoughts and piece everything together, but I could barely think through the fog filling my brain. I decided some fresh air might help, so I put on my shoes and went to the door, an ominous dreadful feeling tickling the back of my mind like I had forgotten something important. I shrugged it away, figuring I would remember once I cleared my head, and went to the door. The temperature dropped the closer I got, and the pain in my head got worse, but I didn't want to just sit around in a daze, so I pushed through and opened the door, expecting a blast of cold air from the building's AC to explain the cold.
Instead of the hallway of the apartment building, my door opened into… nothing. Well not quite nothing, just emptiness. It seemed to go on forever. There was no light beyond my apartment door, no sound other than my breathing, and nothing that I could see to break the endless ocean of lightless space. I uttered a dumbfounded "What" that echoed faintly before quietly dying, feeble and unimpressive.
I felt the movement before I saw it. A low, heavy pressure seemed to grip my chest as something in the void shifted, then began to take shape. I stood frozen in the doorway, the light from my apartment behind me framing my silhouette but failing to illuminate anything beyond as this thing rose up and turned to face me. As it did, I realized why the statue creature was so poorly defined; this thing was so alien, so vastly removed from anything familiar, that trying to force familiarity was impossible.
It had limbs and a torso, but as my brain kept trying to outline and define its proportions, they shifted and changed, never the same. I could tell it was massive, though. Beyond massive, larger than the apartment building by powers and tall enough that I would not have seen half of the thing had my hanging apartment door been at its feet. The face was worse, though. The body at least kept the vague notion of a familiar shape, but looking at this face nearly broke my mind. It was like a million faces flashed over one another, people and animals and things I couldn't recognize all fighting for purchase and ocerlaid on top of each other so fast that no features could be set. It was like my brain tried to find something, anything to compare it to and then made up things, desperate to understand this creature I simply could not fathom. I felt nauseated as each face shifted into the next as its attention turned to me.
It spoke as it turned. Its words were ancient, older than time, sounds that could not be replicated by any mortal thing. It's voice was deep, impossibly deep, as deep as the void I stood on the brink of, as vast as the ocean of emptiness before me. Blood ran from my ears, my nose, and my eyes. I tasted copper, felt my organs ripple, bones creak. I couldn't breathe as this entity, this dark and ancient god, stood before me and spoke its divine language upon my unworthy ears. I did not understand, but I did comprehend its meaning.
I still do.
I wanted to make sure I got this written down. Let it serve as a record of my path, and the paths of Rob and Mary and everyone else. I can feel my mind slipping again, and I know this will be the last time. I will join the Void soon. My new God will speak to me again and my body will crumble as He devours the rest, and I will be the Void.
I hear Him knocking at the door.
I must answer.