The First Apartment

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I am standing at the door of the first apartment and something is unsettling about it. It is very cold tonight and even though all the utilities have been shut off to the apartment complex I can feel the heat from underneath the door. I slowly make my way into the apartment using a flashlight to see with and it feels like the heater was set to just the right temperature for the night. I start to shiver but not from being cold. I cannot possibly explain how the apartment was so warm.

I can barely move as I try to keep my composure and remember why I came to the apartment. I notice as I look around that there is a small table sitting by itself in the corner with what appears to be an old camera. I make my way over to the table slowly to check it out. I pick the camera up and I feel a shock in my bones. The camera falls to the floor but as it does a picture begins to come out of it. I start to scream as I notice what is in the picture. A lady who appears to be in her twenties is crying as she holds her hands in front of the camera. I turn my head for a moment as I hear something in the hall. I just about run out the door but my curiosity takes over. I notice that it is silent once again so I turn back to the photo and see something that is not possible. There is now a man standing behind her in the photo.

I remember something that was said about all the residents that had resided there and it did not make any sense. Something was gnawing at me. Just a few short minutes in the first apartment and I already knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that none of the residents had died of natural causes. I had a feeling that what I would find in the other apartments was going to be even worse. I walked out the door knowing that my fear would get the best of me. I stood outside for a few minutes to smoke a cigarette knowing that I would never be the same after tonight. I have to work up the courage to step into the second apartment and pray that what lurks within is not too much to handle.

To Be Continued...

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