Jillian stood outside the LaGuardia Airport, the sky darkened by black clouds, visibility blinded by sheets of pouring water. She pulled her coat tightly around her neck, relieving the unusual chill crawling down it.
Her good for nothing brother had the audacity of not meeting her at the airport! And though it was comforting to have such a sum deposited into her bank account, she could have done with a little more accommodation. She reached into her coat pocket and brought out a sheet of paper where she scribbled the address.
456 Sycamore Avenue Apartment Building 7, Apartment 21, Queens…
Te cab ride was swift and Jillian found herself standing outside a very nice apartment complex. Staring up the front at the stone and brick that composed the structure, she forgot all about the sheets of rain soaking her clothes.
Then she felt a familiar pull, as if someone took her by the hand, and guided her through the door and towards the elevator. Once inside, she was urged to press the 6 button. Pressing it, she regained her senses, a sense of panic… The elevator chimed. She was now on floor 6, should she get out to see what was behind that door?
‘My brother,’ she coaxed herself, ‘My brother is behind the door. Nothing to be afraid of. I haven’t seen him in a while, but that doesn’t mean I should be scared.’
She walked out of the elevator and was greeted by one door, a golden plaque with the number 21. ‘A penthouse?’ she thought.
Curiously, she knocked lightly on the wooden door, and then gathering her courage, she knocked louder only to have the door creek open, as if nothing were locking it in place before.
She cringed at the many memories of horror stories past, and with a force of a firecracker, she propelled herself forward, gripping the knob tightly and walking into the apartment.
In the doorway, she scanned an open room, linoleum lined the floor from end to end, a large work table in the middle with a variety of heavy tools and metals and a welding mask.
To her left was a nice kitchen, refrigerator, sink and cabinets, everything clean, nothing to suggest a series of murders had taken place inside. To her right was a hallway, probably leading to large freezers to store the bodies… She could help but wonder what she was getting into.
But what she found especially peculiar was a large, what looked like a, shower, with foggy glass walls, probably spanning 8’x8′ from floor to ceiling in the corner of the room. Opposite that was a TV and couch. She didn’t see James anywhere.
‘I should leave,’ she thought, ‘I have a real bad feeling about this place…’
Then she saw it, movement in the shower, what looked like a man standing up, placing his hands on the glass and peering through.
Jillian gasped and turned to walk out when she heard a voice in her head, Stay, Jillian, I would like to talk to you about something very important.
And before she could grab the doorknob, the door slammed shut and locked behind her.