The Missing Link

016. Home

It didn’t take long for Zane to finally reach his flat. His hands trembled as he fumbled with the keys, the eerie feeling still clinging to him. He hurriedly opened the door to the common room, slamming it shut behind him with a sense of relief, as though the thick walls could shield him from whatever was lurking outside.

He leaned against the door, breathing heavily, trying to steady himself. “It must be her,” he whispered to himself, his mind replaying the image of the mysterious lady in pink—the figure that had haunted him since their encounter. The thought of her sent a chill through him, as though she were still somehow lingering, watching him, even now.

The common room was eerily empty, the silence thick and oppressive. Zane’s footsteps echoed through the hallway as he made his way upstairs, the sound of his shoes the only disturbance in the stillness. It was quieter than when he first arrived, too quiet. A sense of unease crept over him, deepening with each step.

When he reached the second floor, a wave of discomfort hit him. The lights from the flats on either side of his were gone—dimmed, as if the entire building had fallen asleep. That was when the realization hit him: it was already well past midnight. The clock’s ticking in his mind seemed to match the rhythm of his heartbeat, rapid and unsettling. Something felt wrong. Something was off. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t alone.

Zane’s hand trembled as he reached for the door of Flat No. 221 on the B-floor. His eyes widened at the sight before him—objects were scattered across the floor, and the images pinned on the wall were missing. His heart sank, a knot tightening in his stomach. Without thinking, he rushed toward his colleague’s bedroom.

The door was already unlocked. When it swung open, more items were strewn about, but there was no sign of Raine.

“Raine?” he called calmly, trying to keep his voice steady, to stave off the panic rising in his chest. He checked his own bedroom, but she wasn’t there either. Desperate, he moved toward the study, where he finally found her.

There she was, lying on the floor, staring blankly at the ceiling. A chair lay tipped over beside her.

“What are you doing?” Zane asked, his voice filled with concern as he set his bag down by the wall and moved closer to her. His gaze fell to the rope clenched tightly in her left hand. Looking up, he saw a cracked portion of the plywood ceiling above them.

“What are you— What is this?” he asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“It was an experiment,” she replied, her voice eerily calm.

“Are you even alright? What the hell happened to you?” Zane lectured, his concern growing. He knew he couldn’t move her yet—he had no idea what might happen if he did, and he needed to figure out what had led her to this point.

“Can you help me up?” Raine asked, her tone unnervingly nonchalant, as if nothing had happened.

“Tell me if you're alright first,” Zane replied, kneeling down to her level. “You fell, didn't you? A failed attempt?”

“I’m fine. I can get up myself,” she answered, pushing herself up with surprising ease. “And it wasn’t what you’re thinking. I told you, it was an experiment!”

“Uh-huh?” Zane said, unconvinced.

“Well, I don’t care if you believe me or not,” Raine snapped, brushing herself off as she walked toward the door. “All I can say is I was just experimenting with gravity and force.”

Zane watched her leave, still doubtful, but followed her out of the room, his mind racing with questions.

“By experimenting inside our flat, where we have a sweet but terror of a landlady?” Zane asked, incredulity in his voice. “Oh, Raine. Don’t drag me into this mess. I’m certainly not a part of it.”