Neighborhood

The morning was a golden one. A light breeze carried the autumn colors down the street. The sun’s soft touch enveloped all and the satisfying crunch of leaves met every step that Sung took. To her side, her partner, Ho, shut the car door and fixed his suit. He shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked her way. She handed him his coffee and he took it with a “thanks”. Sung’s own coffee filled her belly with a comfortable, familiar warmth. It really was a golden day. 

“So, what do we got?” Ho asked, taking a sip. 

“Suicide,” Sung answered, releasing a satisfying ahhh after taking another swig. 

“Suicide? Why were we sent here then?” Ho asked. “Unless… the deceased is suspected to have ties with the Ius?”

“Correct.”

Ho rubbed his goatee with his fingers. The scar on his right hand was still visible. He caught Sung looking at it and put his hand back down. “It’s healed,” Ho said. 

“But you still can’t close your hand completely,” Sung said. Catching a knife from an Ius gangster had been impressive, but the gangster had only been able to get close because Ho let him. “Are you able to do your job?”

“I can still shoot a gun if that’s what you're asking,” Ho answered. “Let’s forget about my hand alright? My wife already bugs me enough about it.”

“Her concern is a blessing.”

“Yeah, well, it definitely feels more like a curse.”

The pair of investigators ducked under the police tape and approached the home. From the outside, the home definitely looked thin. It was squished between two apartments that were both much taller and colored more dully. This two storied house was a bright red brick building compared to the muted tan of the adjacent apartments. The disparity made the house feel all the more claustrophobic when Sung and Ho entered it. In each room were teams looking for evidence of any ties with Ius, the local mafia. Ho shook his head. The way they rearranged the furniture was utterly disrespectful to the deceased. 

Making their way to the second floor, they spotted a team standing beside the entrance to the attic. The watchmen stepped to the side and saluted the duo. Sung stepped up the ladder first, and when she got to the top she was greeted by an old man hanging by a noose. When Ho joined her and laid eyes on the body, he quickly did a religious gesture before pulling out a file. Sung began to pace around the attic, passing a broken, uninstalled window on the ground. Lee must have accidentally knocked this thing down on his way out. 

“Deceased’s name is Sigmund Lee. Aged 67 and is a retired private security guard. Neighbors reported the incident after seeing his body through the window. The house shows no sign of struggle or forced entry and thus-”

“Lee’s death was ruled a suicide,” Sung said, nodding. “Did the old man leave behind a note?”

“No note has been found nor has any motive for taking his own life been determined,” Ho answered. “He did have altercations with Ius members during his career. I wouldn’t rule out murder.” 

“The Ius do have a record of targeting old peacekeepers,” Sung said. She stopped beside the far wall. Why do you propose there is so much ink in this room?” 

Ho’s eyes jump from the file to the walls. There were indeed splashes of black ink seemingly everywhere. “Maybe he practiced calligraphy here in his spare time?” Ho suggested. 

Sung shook her head. “He had arthritis in both hands. That’s what forced his retirement from private security in the first place.”

This prompted Ho to sift through the file’s contents. There’s no medical record. He shook his head and called down the ladder for someone to get him a proper report. When no one answered him he prepared to go down but Sung stopped him. Something caught her eye. Ho carefully navigated around the ink puddles to reach the window where Sung was looking. Outside was a beautiful view of a cement wall from the adjacent apartment. Ho moved to the other side of the room to the second window. Also a cement wall. There was no place a neighbor from either apartment could have seen his body. 

She began to pace around the attic, circumnavigating the pools of ink as she did so. “Have someone question the neighbor who reported the suicide.” Ho quickly descended the ladder. The Ius may have had a role to play in this after all, Sung thought to herself. She decided to inspect the body of Lee. Wrinkled skin, grey hair, and apart from the bulging eyes he looks perfectly fine for a dead body. That is, until Sung remembers another piece of information from his file she read prior to arriving at this place: Lee had lost his legs in an accident two years ago. His body here had all his limbs. 

“Ho!” She shouted as she ran for the ladder. At the base of it Ho’s face was peering back up at her. Sweat was dripping from his forehead like he had been running.

“Everyone’s gone,” he said. “I checked the entire house.”

“Where did they leave?”

“The cars are still here, Sung. They didn’t go anywhere. What the hell is going on?” 

“We’re going to find out. Call the department, have this entire neighborhood blocked off.”

“The Ius?” Ho asked. Sung nodded. Ho pulled out his phone to report the missing men and request a blockade. Then he joined Sung as she made her way to the front door. “What was the link to the Ius? None was found on the second or first floors.” 

“I didn’t find one,” Sung said. 

“What do you mean you didn’t find one? Wait, don’t tell me you think everyone here was a defector.”

“I don’t believe that. I only had you report Ius activity so that the department would encircle the area in time.”

“So you have a suspect,” Ho said. 

“No.”

“Sung!”

“I don’t know what’s happening. There was no way for the neighbors to see Lee’s body and the body may not even be Lee, I can’t help but feel like this is a trap. We’re going to wait outside until we have back up and then- Ho? Are you listening to me?”

Ho had stopped walking in the middle of her speaking. He put his hand on his forehead and started shaking his head furiously. Sung tried to berate him for panicking under pressure, but he grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around. 

“Where’s the front door!?” Ho shouted. They were both staring at a dead-end to the hallway where the door should have been. 

Unnnnnn… 

Sung and Ho turned around, brandishing their sidearms. Something was vibrating in one of the rooms. They entered the first room in the hallway: an office space. The duo found the source of the noise the moment they entered. Resting atop the desk and next to the computer monitor was a small desk fan. It’s body slowly rotated left to right, cooling nothing. And it wasn’t plugged in. Sung signaled for Ho to leave it alone and follow her. Best not to think about how that fan was operating. Besides, if they can’t leave, they’ll have to search the house together for an exit. 

Continuing down each room, they searched the entirety of the first, and later the second, floor. As they did, they learned three things. The first was that all the lights in the house have seemingly been turned on and are unable to be turned off. The second was that the house had no kitchen. There was no indication that a kitchen had once even existed. No countertops, tiling, or even cabinets were present. Anything that suggested a stove or refrigerator was supposed to be there was also absent. The final thing they learned was that the entire layout of the house had changed. There were clothes drying on the ceiling of the living room and couches that faced corners. And all the windows had disappeared. 

“Sung. Nothing is right here,” Ho whispers. “Even if this is some Ius trick-”

“Focus. We know there are two windows in the attic. We’ll leave from there,” Sung interrupts, marching past a paralyzed Ho. She makes her way to the attic, struggling to keep Ho from seeing that her legs are trembling. 

Sung managed to climb the ladder without falling and even helped Ho up by extending a hand to lift him up. Lee’s body was still there, except for the fact that it was now facing away from them. Sung and Ho tried their best to ignore that and quickly ran for the window. Sung went to lift the window- and she jammed her fingers against the wall. Cursing, she stepped back while Ho stepped forward in disbelief. The window... was a painting. Or a wallpaper? Dear god, the window looks like it was plastered against the wall!

Sung finally lost her cool. “No! No! Goddamnit!” she shouted, gripping her injured hand. “What the hell is happening!?” Sung ran to the other window and tried in vain to open it, clawing against the wall. Ho slumped lamely to the ground, his hands clutching his head as he let out a whimper. 

Sung continued to alternate between the two fake windows before tripping on something. She stopped herself with her hands, but she cut them on glass in the process. Wait. Glass? Sung  turned around swiftly to find the uninstalled window lying where it first was. Behind it’s frame, Sung could see a book of some sort. She grabbed it with bloody hands and inspected its contents. It was a journal, and all of the entries were the same: Today I spent the morning looking out the window. Enjoying the view with a cup of coffee and listening to the songbirds is life’s greatest pleasure. 

Ho had stood up when Sung fell, but now was staring wide eyed at the glass shards on the ground. He stood over every individual piece he could find. Sung looked at him perplexed before realizing why he was being so persistent. Neither his or her reflection showed up on the glass. Ho stopped. He picked up a shard and brought it to his face. There was of course no reflection of his visage, but what was reflected was the hanging body of Lee just behind him. Ho inhaled violently and threw the shard against the wall. 

They remained there for a couple of moments, defeated. 

“You should call your wife,” Sung finally said. “There’s no power outlets and no chargers. Call her before your phone battery dies.”

Ho nodded to her in appreciation, but before he could pull out his phone, Sung’s rang. Sung answered. 

“Hello?” she said. 

“Is this Officer Sung? This is Mr. Lee’s former caretaker, Byeol. I heard about his death and I acquired your contact through the station-”

“Did you do this?” Sung asked curtly. “I don’t know what kind of things you’re doing to this house, but I will find you.”

“Officer Sung, I don’t understand what you’re accusing me of. Mr. Lee’s house? I quit being his caretaker years ago! I haven’t stepped foot in his home since I left.”

At that, Sung caught herself and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. What can you tell me about your stay with Mr. Lee? Any suspicious things happening in the home? Strange visitors?”

“You’re not suspecting that he had ties with the Ius are you? No, the only strange thing was Mr. Lee himself. He was the reason I quit. It sounds childish, but he creeped me out to the point where I had to leave. I couldn’t handle the way the old man would talk about a window in the attic. He’d always do it in the same spot, looking up at the roof in his wheelchair.”

Sung takes a peek at Lee’s hanging body. Those legs were very real, and the broken window must be the one Byeol mentioned, but asking Byeol about that would only confuse him. “Is there anything you can tell me about the attic?” Sung asked. “Are there any points to access the roof from there?”

Byeol was silent for a moment. “Only the two windows. Officer Sung, I first want to say that I don’t want to hinder the investigation in any way. However, I suggest staying away from the attic. That’s the reason I called. That place isn’t a good place. Sometimes I’d hear a strange tune coming from there and after it would stop, Mr. Lee would whistle the tune to himself. There’s no way a deaf man could do that.”

Suddenly, Ho’s phone rings and he quickly puts it on speaker. 

“Hello? Sergeant! Have you surrounded the neighborhood?” 

“Yes, sir,” the Sergeant answered. “Additionally, there was a misreport that the forensics team had gone missing. Up-”

“It wasn’t a false report!” Ho shouted. “Search every home on the block. I want whoever is responsible for this! Send a team into the home of the deceased immediately!”

“I- I’m not sure I understand, Sir. We’re-”

“What you need to understand is that if you don’t get in here I will personally see to your demotion.”

“Sir, the forensics team never left. We’re still inside the house.”

Ho froze. “Describe the room you’re in right now, Sergeant. Every detail.”

“Uh, there’s two windows. Let’s see... the floors and walls are spotless. Nothing in here but neatly stacked boxes. Mr. Lee really cleaned up the attic.”