Apartment 402

Submitted into Contest #148 in response to: Write a story involving a noise complaint. ... view prompt

2 comments

Suspense Science Fiction Fiction

I knock on the door. No answer. Try three more times. Bam, bam, bam…nothing. Why is nobody answering? Jerks. Particularly, the one living above me. I pace around, wondering if she thinks I’m just going to give up. I will stay outside all night if I have to. Before I knock once more, I hear the door’s lock. Muffled voice shuffling around. A crack. The door opens slightly. I see her ear and right green eye pop out.  

“What do you want?” a meek voice escapes her lips.  

“Hi. You're new here, right? Rebeca, was it? I just wanted to ask if you could lower the volume?” 

I step closer to decipher her confused expression. Her face turns bright red, like a strawberry.

“What volume? I haven’t heard anything and haven’t done anything, her voice trembles as she closes the door a bit.

“There’s a noise coming from your apartment. Apartment 402. Above my own, 302. I’ve heard it all night for the past two weeks.

It’s cutting on my sleep. Can you please keep it down?” 

“That’s strange. I just came back from my trip yesterday,” she says with a high pitch voice that I barely understand.   

“Didn’t you move last month?” 

“Yeah, so?” 

“And you haven’t been in that apartment till today?” 

“Look, I don’t have time to talk right now. Know that I’m not making any noise. It must be the neighbor next door.” She’s about to close the door when I hold it with force.  

“Most apartments on this floor are vacant. Like the one next door. Just promise you’ll keep the volume down, please?” 

“THERE IS NO NOISE. I don’t know what you are talking about. Just go back to your apartment and leave me alone.” She slams the door in my face. 

I feel my stomach turn. Heat rises to my faces as I begin pounding on the door repeatedly.  

“Hey, I’m not leaving till you tell me where that du..dum..du..dum sound is coming from.” 

Silence. I hear the key to the door unlock.  

“So, you’re saying you hear a drumming sound?” a faint voice from inside responds. 

“Yes. And I want it to stop.” 

The door opens to reveal darkness. I can’t think of anything to say. I don’t see her or anyone inside. I hesitant to enter, but I have a small pepper spray on my pocket for safekeeping. I sigh and walk inside. Darkness engulfs my surrounding and when I look back, I can’t see where I came in. 

-----

I shout HELLO to try to find the exit, but nobody responds. I can't see anything. I grip my pepper spray with my right hand, and I try to feel anything with my left. As I walk, I feel the air become thinner. It must be my nerves. Then, I stumble on the side of a door frame. Slowly, I feel the smooth texture, like the petals of a flower, until I feel a handle. A dim light appears from the bottom of the door, and I take a deep breath holding the spray to my heart. I open the heavy door and see an empty room.

The moment I enter the room, I stub my toe on a table. As I dance around trying to shake away the pain, I notice I’m not in a living room. It doesn’t look like a house. It looks like a dental office. Three empty chairs sit beside each other. On the opposite side, a long gray couch rests accompanied by two white pillows. Another door lays on the far corner. Closed. It carries a sign proclaiming Do Not Enter.

I shout HELLO once more. If I saw that girl right now, I’d beat her up for this nonsense. A bodiless voice coughs. I turn around but I’m still alone. The coughing continues. Then, it stops and clears its throat. It shouts,   

“Number 302, just wait by and we will call you.” The voice was raspy and different from the neighbor. It echoes through the entire room. 

“HEY! I JUST WANT TO GO HOME. WHO THE HELL IS THIS?” I shout as loud as I can.

I hug myself to ease my nerves. After another coughing fit that last for a few more minutes, it responds,

“Number 302, you can enter now.” 

I clutch the pepper spray as I stand there. When I look through the door I entered, all I see is darkness. I want to run, but where would I go? I take a deep breath and walk towards the forbidden door.  

-----

My head aches. I open my eyes slowly and see blurry people hovering above me. They talk in whispers. When my vision clears, I see four people. Two men and two women.  

I can’t speak. It feels as if I have short tubs inside my mouth, sucking the moisture away. It’s worse than the time I swallowed a spoonful of cinnamon. I try to move, but my arms and legs are restrained. Then I notice, the strange man is talking to me. 

“Your name was Beatriz, right? Did you have fun while you were her?” 

“Silly, she can’t speak right now,” a short woman next to him replies. 

“We will explain the process once you wake up, so don’t be scared.” I recognized the neighbor’s voice. She stands by the other side.  

“Let’s begin,” says the raspy stranger. 

-----

The room goes dark. When I open my eyes again, I’m lying on a bed with no tubs. I sit, noticing that whatever was holding me down has been removed. I stretch and touch my arms. I see no marks. I feel no bumps or bruises on my mouth either. My head feels like a pounding drum. It reminds me of the terrible EDM concert I saw in high school. 

I notice the neighbor writing something down on a black notepad. I want to hit her, but my legs feel sore and heavy. 

“Don’t make any abrasive movement. The medicine will go out in a few minutes. By that time, you’ll be asleep again” her squeaky voice makes my ears hurt. Seeing her body clearly, she looks just like a pitaya with her pale skin and purple lab coat. She even has black freckles and green eyes to match.  

“What did you do to me?” My voice sounds dry, like I’m talking while chewing cereal. 

“This is all part of your journey as a D.R.P. Believe me, I also hate this part of the process. I have to explain everything all the time.” 

“D.R..what?” 

“Doppelgänger Rehabilitation Program. You’re a member of the Doppelgänger Alliances. An organization that helps people in their time of need. We take the “original person” (she says with air quotes), someone struggling with a difficult situation. Usually happens while they’re sleep. Then, we freeze them, and a member comes in. The member transforms into that “person” and live their life for a couple of months. They help them through the difficult moment until the “original” is ready to come back. I wish this process had like a power point or something to explain this. Maybe we could make a short video. This only takes 5 minutes. That would be enough.” 

“Wait…you are telling me I’m a doppelgänger?” 

“Precisely. And this time you were a pesky find. You hid very well. When you told me about the drumming, I knew it was your time

to go back.” 

I stare at her and then I burst out laughing. 

“What are you talking about? Doppelgänger…whatever you’re smoking, you’ll have to give me some.”  

I pause, remembering their experimentation. A sharp pain on my stomach distracts my thoughts. It feels as if I were being repeatedly stabbed. I wince and rub my stomach.

“That pain means the medicine is working,” she says cheerfully. She closes the notepad. As she walks towards me, I try and fail to hit her with my limped leg.

“I know this may be a shock right now. But you are being reassigned. You don’t have much time to…” 

“Hold up, reassigned?” I wiggle in the bed, but I can barely make it further than an inch.  

My heart pounds rapidly as I hug myself for comfort. 

“In about sixty seconds, you will blackout. Then you will forget all of this and be a new “person”. Don’t worry, it’s your last assignment before your retirement."

“Listen lady. I just want to go home. I don’t know what mind control, organ selling, or whatever sketchy business you all got here. The minute I can walk again, I will beat you senseless.” 

“Just lay down and close your eyes. It will all be over soon.”  She

touches my shoulders and places me back on the bed. I wiggle and spit curses at her until my eyes begin to droop.  

-----

I wake up in a bed. A woman cries above me and caresses my right hand.  

“She’s waking up,” she whispers. “Claire, sweetheart. Are you alright?” 

“I don’t think she hit her head too hard.” A young man hands over a bag of ice to the crying lady. 

“Oh, Claire. Your brother found you. He saw you walking near a construction site where you were hit on the head. What were you doing there?” 

I can’t speak. My head is throbbing as a drumming sound du..dum..du..dum surrounds the room. From the corner of my eye, I see my neighbor staring at me. Then, she disappears.  

My thoughts are scattered. I try to recount my steps. Try to remember my apartment. Or was it a house? Who am I again?  

I’m

Beatriz…I am Beat…I am B…

I’m not

Claire…I’m…I can’t remember.

I’m…Claire.

June 01, 2022 23:23

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2 comments

Mike Panasitti
17:22 Jun 09, 2022

Benevolent doppelganger rehabilitation. Original premise. This could be worked into a fantastic Invasion of the Body Snatchers-inspired longer story.

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Rabab Zaidi
01:09 Jun 05, 2022

Very interesting.

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