Did you know in some states landlords aren’t required to disclose murders in their units to prospective tenants? I didn’t.
Part 1
The summer after I graduated from college I landed my first real job. I’d just spent four years studying engineering, and I was elated to land a high-paying position with a Fortune 500 company so I could finally move out of my parents’ house and strike it out on my own. Now that’s not to say that my parents were terrible to me and I was running from them, quite the opposite in fact. They’d merely raised me to be fiercely independent, and now that they’d helped me get through school, it was time to start paying my own way.
My new job required me to move out of state, which really wasn’t a big concern. I’d gone to school nearly equidistant from my parents’ home as I would be in my new city, and I knew I could always make it back for a weekend if I was starting to feel homesick or lonely. However, where I was moving I didn’t know anybody, so it would be the first time that I would be living truly on my own. In college I was in a fraternity so I’d always had at least three or four roommates, and while they’re some of the best guys I’ve ever known, they were quite shit at things like dishes, vacuuming, and not vomiting behind the couch. Needless to say at this point in my life, I was actually very excited to have a place all to myself.
If you know anything about the midwest, you’ll know that some cities merely exist because a large company settled there a hundred or so years ago. This was true of where I was moving. Details on the company are superfluous to the story, suffice to say that nearly everyone in this area works for the same one and they import people from all over the world to work for them. Most folks move to this area in May right after they graduate from college, but the role I was hired for did not open until August. Therefore, by the time I moved to the area housing options had become a bit limited. Places I viewed were either wildly expensive or so dumpy that the roaches in them were looking for alternate accommodations.
Living out of a hotel and searching in vain for days, on a Saturday morning I finally stumbled upon a listing for an apartment that looked almost new from the photos online, was within my price range, and was near my new office. I was a bit surprised as I’d actually called the office for this complex just a couple weeks prior and they’d told me most of their tenants were on one-year leases and they likely wouldn’t have any availability until December. Thinking I’d just gotten incredibly lucky, I called the office again and I was forwarded along to the Property Manager.
“Hello…Hi, yes I’m calling to inquire about the available unit I see posted on your website. I called a week or so ago and I was told you wouldn’t have any units available until around December, so I’m wondering if it’s really available or some sort of glitch.”
A woman’s voice replied to me. “Oh…Hi…yes…I didn’t realize they’d have it up on the website already. Umm…yes I suppose the unit is available…”
I’d made a lot of these calls recently so I was used to how they’d normally go at this point…typically a rundown of the complex, the amenities of the unit, and the rent details would follow but this felt different. She gave me none of this information and instead sounded hesitant to say they even had a unit available. Maybe customer service just wasn’t her forte.
“Great! I’m in a bit of a crunch here, I start my new job Monday and haven’t been able to locate housing yet, would it be possible for me to come and view the unit today?”
“Umm…yes, I guess that would be possible…before we proceed though, are you employed by (the company everyone works for)? We can waive the application in that case, we just need to see proof of employment.”
“Yes! That’s the company I’m starting with Monday. That’s fantastic that you can waive the application! I’ll bring proof of employment with me to the tour.”
“Okay. In that case, I can meet you at the apartment office in an hour and my name is Clara.”
And with that she hung up. Once she’d heard who I was working for her hesitation had abated. I figured she’d just been concerned that I wouldn’t be a fit candidate for the unit and I might be wasting her time.
I arrived at the apartment office almost exactly one hour after our conversation and found Clara waiting for me. She greeted me warmly enough, if not a bit abruptly…she was probably a bit annoyed with having to give a tour on a Saturday and wanted to get it over with. Fine by me I thought. I’d already looked into this complex before I’d heard they had no availability, and if this particular unit matched up with the photos online, I was pretty confident it’d be essentially perfect for me. Clara asked if I was ready to get started and it was then I noticed the bags under her eyes. I surmised she was likely exhausted from dealing with the bullshit that comes with managing a large apartment complex…getting thirty calls a day that a lightbulb was out or a toilet wouldn’t flush.
We hopped in a golf cart and headed to Building 17. I found out the available unit was on the third floor, number 1737. Well I guess you’d call it the third floor, I would have called it the fourth floor, but this complex designated the lowest level as the “ground” floor, so the same apartment on that floor would have been designated as 1707. Either way, 1737 was on the top floor of the building and for me this was perfect. I’d never liked the idea of someone being able to look right into my windows as they walked by and from what I could see on the ride over to Building 17, many of the tenants liked to walk around for exercise.
As we approached the building, I noticed things got…quieter. The rest of the complex was bustling with life. Adults talking, children playing, dogs barking, but the closer we got to 17, the ambient noise seemed to fade to a dull hum. ‘Strange,’ I thought, but maybe the tenants in this particular building were just not as social. Truthfully I’m fairly introverted, so I didn’t mind that it looked like I’d be living on the quiet side of town…I’d had enough socializing for a lifetime in college.
Clara parked the golf cart but didn’t get out. There was a heaviness to her presence and I couldn’t help asking, “is something wrong?”
“I’m sorry” she said, “It’s just…the last tenants of 1737…it was so…they just left so suddenly.”
“Oh…did they give a reason why? You’re not about to show me a place full of black mold or something, are you?” I chuckled.
“No, no, nothing like that. The place has been cleaned and inspected top to bottom in the last week and no one could find a single issue with it. The tenants didn’t give a reason for leaving to be honest. In fact, they didn’t even call us until they were back in their home country.”
“Really? That’s crazy! So they just packed up and left?”
“No, see that’s just the thing…they didn’t even pack most of their stuff…it looked like they just grabbed some essentials and small valuables maybe…hard to tell really…place was kinda ransacked. They’d signed a one-year least just two months prior and seemed ecstatic about their new lives here in America. Young couple…they were talking about starting a family and then they just left. We didn’t even realize they were gone until the wife called us and told us she didn’t care what we did with their things…just asked us to send us whatever paperwork and billing she’d need to sign and pay-off to break the lease and to please never contact her again. That was two weeks ago.”
“Wow! When I saw a place opened up here I figured someone broke their lease early, but I guessed they’d just gotten another job somewhere or something. Never imagined something so…dramatic.”
“Yea, to be honest it’s been a rough couple of weeks getting all their stuff cleared out and getting the place ready for a new tenant. For some reason I can’t seem to get a crew to work in there for more than a day so I’ve had to use several. Hard to find good help and all I guess. Anyway, sorry again, like I said it’s been stressful around here recently and I was just surprised to have someone call me about seeing the place so soon. We can go take a look now if you’d like?”
This was definitely more than I was expecting and set off a few alarm bells considering they’d left in such an abnormal fashion, but I was desperate to find housing by this point. Also, I recollected I once had a boss that just up and moved to Colorado one day and never told anyone about it or even quit his job…just stopped showing up to work and we never saw him again. We only found out where he went via social media. Sometimes people just do weird shit, I reasoned. Maybe one of the previous tenants did get a new job back home and they were going to be making so much money that they just planned to buy all new stuff. That had to be it…just some rich dickheads left their mess behind for someone else to clean up and all it meant was I was going to get a great new place just before I started my new job.
I told Clara I was ready to go check the place out and we ascended the stairs to 1737. As she put the key in the lock, I noticed the slightest reluctance…just a fraction of a second before she turned the key and opened the door. ‘She really doesn’t want to be here…’ I thought. However, any misgivings I had were quickly washed away as I entered and found it was everything I could have hoped for. Just as the photos online had intimated, it was nearly new inside. In fact, had Clara not told me there’d been at least five previous tenants, I would have never known it wasn’t a new build. She told me they had freshly painted and installed new carpets (standard procedure when a tenant moves out) and I’d have almost 1000 square feet all to myself. I couldn’t believe anyone would want to abandon this place, as by all accounts it appeared to be in perfect condition, and even had a balcony I could use to spy on the neighbors. The only thing I noticed that seemed a bit off was the faint smell of ozone, like there was an electrical issue of some kind. Clara assured me that, while she could smell it too, she’d had an electrician thoroughly check the unit and he’d reported everything was up to code and there was nothing to worry about.
With that, I’d seen and heard enough. I was ready to sign away the next year of my life and start moving in. It was odd, but while I could tell Clara seemed uncomfortable just being in the unit…shifting her weight constantly…her eyes darting to the corners of the room…I felt inherently at home. I’d only ever experienced that feeling at my parents’ house before, just the sense of belonging…like the apartment itself wanted me there. I told Clara as much, and she gave me a weak nod of approval before she asked if we could return to the office to finalize the paperwork. As we were leaving, she told me she’d send someone out to fix the “overzealous” AC as soon as possible and apologized for it being freezing in there, but I normally run hot and told her I had felt perfectly natural while inside.
As promised, this complex worked with new hires to my company all the time and all I needed to do was show Clara my offer letter with the salary I’d be making, sign the one-year lease, and cough up the security deposit and first month’s rent before she handed me the keys to 1737. Apparently they trusted that the company was doing a thorough background check on new employees so they didn’t really need to one themselves for new tenants.
I couldn’t believe it. Just that morning I had been having a mild anxiety attack wondering if I was going to be stuck living in a hotel for months, and now I had a place to call home. Expediently, I shot back to the hotel, grabbed what little I had there, checked out, and pointed my truck in the direction of my storage unit.
I was intent on moving in as quickly as possible, which given how few belongings I’d brought from my parents’ was not going to be difficult. In fact, I was nearly able to pack it all into one truckload and would only have to return for the mattress and box spring. Given this, on my first run to 1737, I mulled over all the furniture I’d need to buy before I invited over any guests. Currently I’d only be able to offer a seat on my lap in the recliner or a spot on my bed, which would be awkward at best for any new friends and a touch “forward” for any dates I might bring home. I smirked thinking through several of these scenarios as I parked my truck in front of Building 17.
While I’d initially been excited by the prospect of living on the third floor, now that I was staring down the barrel of hauling my net worth up three flights of stairs alone, I had my first moment of trepidation. And without warning, that trepidation started to spiral into a full-blown panic attack. Unfortunately, I suffer from a severe anxiety and panic disorder, but I’d been uncharacteristically calm with everything up until this very moment. But, now that I had just a second to stop and think, my mind spiraled into a frenzy. ‘I’d only been in the unit for ten minutes tops, I signed the paperwork with nary a question…did I even check under the bed in the hotel room and make sure I hadn’t lost a sock? What the hell did I just do?!’ Something about the apartment must have seduced my synapses because I couldn’t fathom how I’d gotten this far without a second thought.
Desperately, I jumped out of the truck and tried to locate where I’d tossed my bag from the hotel. My panic attack meds were buried somewhere in there and I had a feeling this one was going to require a double-dose. My psychiatrist had advised me only to take them as needed and really only to take one, but I found that that sometimes still left me a bit on edge and I took a second one anyway. As I shakily choked down the pills, my phone started to ring and I saw an incoming call from Mom.
“Hey Mom.”
I tried to sound confident, but mothers always know when something’s wrong.
“What’s wrong? How’s the apartment hunt going? Are you still having trouble finding a place?”
Oh my god, I hadn’t even called my parents! I couldn’t believe it. Yea I was independent and I wanted to start behaving like a real adult but for a decision this big, I’d normally at least have called my mom first. ‘What’s gotten into me?’ I wondered.
“Mom…I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me today. I found a place and took a tour and just signed the paperwork without really thinking about it. I was literally about to start moving stuff in when I started having a panic attack. It’s not like me at all, I normally have to have every question answered…but something about the place…I just got a feeling, it felt like being home with you and Dad.”
“Okay honey…I’m going to need you to try and take a few deep breaths for me…let’s talk through this. Did you take your medication?”
“Yes, I just took it…I’ll sit back in the front seat while I wait for it to kick in and we can talk.”
“Okay, so let me just ask a few questions. Is it a place in one of the complexes you showed me before?”
“Yes, it’s in that nice one that said they wouldn’t have availability until December. They had a unit unexpectedly open up, so I called and took a tour and holy shit, I live here now I guess…”
“Okay, I get why you’re panicking right now, but that actually sounds like a good thing! You’d already looked into that place before…it’s probably why you didn’t feel the need to ask a ton of questions. And I know you’ve been stressed trying to find a place, so if it felt like home, I can understand why you just jumped on the opportunity. If you’re really stressed about it though, email me a copy of the lease and I’ll read through it to make sure it’s all on the up-and-up, alright?”
My mom worked for the city back home in their public housing sector and was extremely well versed in lease agreements. I’m not sure if it was her offer or the meds starting to kick in, but I felt my heart rate start to decrease and I began processing information rationally again. So what if it had been a bit of an impulse decision? She was right. I’d looked into the complex previously, many people from my company lived there, I could afford it, and it was far nicer than the hotel I’d been staying at even if I was only going to have bachelor pad levels of amenities for a few days.
“Thanks Mom, yea that helps. They did email me my signed copy of the lease, I’ll send it over to you this evening when I get settled in a bit. I need to start hauling stuff up the stairs now. I have one more run to the storage unit to make and then I’ll grab some takeout for dinner…probably stop in a store and grab some sodas and chips to snack on as well.”
“Maybe get some healthy snacks too? Carrots?” She replied.
“Sure thing.” I snickered, “I have to run or I’m going to run out of daylight here. Thanks again, love you!”
“Love you too, oh and take some pictures of the new place and send them to me and your Dad!”
“Will do!”
She hung up and after a few more deep breaths, I willed myself out of the truck, grabbed the first box, and headed towards the stairs. I was aware there wasn’t an elevator from the tour earlier that day, but I hadn’t truly anticipated just how much that was going to suck until I carried up that first box (which happened to be full of dishes). In my youthful and testosterone-addled mind, I remember thinking something along the lines of, ‘stairs will be good for me, I’ll get some extra exercise, maybe I’ll even drop a few pounds!’ This, I found, was a very stupid thought. Stairs are stupid, and I was even more stupid for being excited about stairs.
I guess you could say that I was pretty out of shape at the time as I’d definitely spent a lot more time in the lab and at the bars than in the gym while I was in college. Also, I still hadn’t quite kicked my smoking habit so I was huffing pretty aggressively by the time I approached the door for 1737.
I stuck my key in the door and as soon as it bottomed out in the lock, I had the strangest sensation wash over me. Almost like I’d made an electrical connection at my fingertips and it flowed through every atom in my body. The instinctual feeling that this was home returned…and I didn’t just feel it…now I heard it. The softest voice.
“You are safe here.”
It happened so quickly, and so quietly, I barely caught the words. I swung my head around to see if someone had snuck up on me and finding no one, realized I’d heard them in my own head. Or had I really heard anything? It’d been a crazy day already and with how winded I was, I’m sure I wasn’t getting full oxygen to my brain. Couple that with my meds and trying to rationalize what might have been an insane decision, maybe my own brain manifested those words to explain why this place, which I’d never set foot in before previously, felt like home to me.
What’s more…I believed them. I did feel safe. And as I crossed the threshold, I even felt somehow stronger. Breaths came easier as soon as I entered, and the box seemed a bit lighter as I carried it to the kitchen and set it on the counter. I beamed as I surveyed my new kingdom. Empty for the moment, but soon to be filled with the memories of young adulthood. Once I’d made a few friends in the area, I could definitely see throwing a few parties up here. The kitchen was modest, but I envisioned myself cooking a nice meal for a date sometime. I’d just need to meet a woman…and learn how to cook.
Focusing a bit more on the fun that I could have in my new home I felt reinvigorated, and unloading the remainder of the truck went much more smoothly. Whether real or placebo, I found things always got easier the closer I got to 1737. I even managed to get the recliner upstairs by myself only thinking I might pass out twice.
With the truck finally empty, I took a quick look around and felt a pang of pride. It wasn’t much yet, but it was mine and the potential was more visceral than ever. Yet I didn’t linger long as I still had one more trip to the storage unit and a couple stops to make before I could really start to get things set up. Then when I shut the door and turned the key again to lock it, I thought I heard something again…the faintest whisper.
“Don’t leave.”
But of course, I didn’t actually hear that…did I? Just the exhaustion of the day…my own brain telling me to settle down…maybe take a nap. I muttered aloud, although not quite sure to who…
“I just need to run and grab a few things quickly and then I’ll be back for the night, don’t worry.”
Now I guess I was talking to myself, but who doesn’t from time to time? Nothing to worry about. Just motivating myself to make the last push. Though I couldn’t shake the smallest hint of sadness as I walked down the stairs.
I drove a bit more quickly than normal back to the storage unit and loaded up the mattress and boxspring with haste. I’d already paid for the month there, so even though it was now empty, I decided I didn’t need to deal with cancelling the contract that day, and pulled out my phone to search for the closest fast food joint.
Frustratingly, the line at the drive-thru was very long, and it seemed everyone was ordering for at least a family of four. The line inside looked no better, so I decided to wait it out, increasingly annoyed with each passing minute that things just wouldn’t move faster. Didn’t they know that I needed to get back home?
Feeling the restaurant had failed miserably at the definition of fast, I did finally receive something that I hoped would at least meet the definition of food, and sped off to find the nearest gas station. Quickly, I scanned the aisles and grabbed snacks and drinks that I’m certain had zero nutritional value and made my way to the counter. Unfortunately I’d have to tell my mom that they didn’t have any carrots at the gas station. The cashier couldn’t work fast enough for me, and by the time he’d rung up my items and the pack of smokes I asked for, I felt like I was running late.
I’m certain I sped quite a bit on the way back to the complex but luckily I wasn’t pulled over, and finally parked back in front of Building 17. I decided I’d drop the food in the apartment first and then come back down and get the mattress and boxspring. Then took the stairs two at a time to reach 1737. That familiar electric feeling washed over me as I turned the key, and without having to hear it, I said to myself, “I am safe here,” before crossing the threshold once more.
Dropping the food, I went to grab the box spring first as it was much lighter than the mattress and was able to get that up and into the bedroom with relative ease. The mattress, however, proved to be the most awkward and difficult thing I’d tried to get up the stairs yet. Far heavier than it looked, and cumbersome to carry for one person, I struggled just to get it up the first flight after having to drag it slightly up the last step. I paused on the first floor to catch my breath when from behind me I heard,
“Do you need some help?”
This time I was certain it was an actual voice and to my relief, when I turned around I saw a young woman standing just a few feet away. My initial shock from having heard no one approach waned as I realized she looked to be about my age and she was undeniably gorgeous. Maybe I’d just always had a thing for Latin women, but her dark hair and eyes, curves, and the confidence she carried herself with checked every box on my list. I became rapidly aware of my own stench from moving all day and took a couple steps back before replying.
“Umm…hey, hi, uh…I do need to take it up to the top floor, but I can get it there myself, don’t worry about it if you’re on your way out.”
I had to assume she was on her way out. There was only one stairwell and being I was taking up most of it currently, I would have seen her on her way up. I definitely didn’t want to inconvenience her if she had places to be and she wasn’t really dressed for heavy lifting…wearing a pair of joggers, house slippers, and a Pink Floyd t-shirt. Plus the caveman buried deep inside me wanted to prove I was strong enough to carry a mattress up three flights of stairs on my own (as I’m sure that’s a trait high on the list of things women look for in a mate).
“Ha, on my way out? Nah I’m not going anywhere tonight. I had just heard there was a new tenant moving in today and I thought I might try and see if it was a hot guy. Are you helping him move?”
As my ego deflated like a weakly pinched off balloon, I replied, “oh…uh…I guess, sorry to disappoint, but he is me…”
She laughed hard and said, “Dude, I’m fucking with you. I was just going to take a little walk and saw your struggling ass. Now stop trying to be all macho and let me help you get that up the rest of the way. I do hella squats.”
She was incredibly disarming and I laughed too. Something about her seemed vaguely familiar but I couldn’t place it, and I was too tired to wrack my brains as to why. All I knew at that point was she wasn’t going to take no for an answer as she walked past me and grabbed the other end of the mattress.
I said, “Alrighty then, I guess let’s do this on three. 1…2…”
But before I could get to three, she squatted down and lifted her end with such ease I internally made a plan to sign up for a gym membership that week.
“Vamonos cabron!” She exclaimed.
And she took off for the stairs so quickly I had to jog a little bit to keep up. We flew through the next two flights like we were carrying a sack of feathers, and when we reached the third floor she made a backwards beeline straight for 1737, where she abruptly paused. We’d been moving so quickly, I actually slammed into my end of the mattress when she stopped and was surprised again at her strength as she didn’t even flinch.
Her expression had changed from sarcastic and light to deadly serious. Taken aback by the sudden shift, I waited cautiously for her to speak. When she opened her mouth, her voice sounded different. It was undoubtedly hers, but the quality wasn’t the same. Instead of the spice it had had before, it was now very flat and mechanical, as she said…
“May I enter?”
I’d expected something much more serious based on her expression and tone and chuckled a bit as I responded.
“Oh, yea of course. It should be unlocked.”
Her serious expression immediately dropped and the sarcasm returned to her eyes. Even more, she looked slightly mischievous and flashed a broad smile.
The doors for the units had lever style handles and locked with a deadbolt and as I’d been running up and down the stairs, I had left the deadbolt open. Once I’d granted permission, she backed right up to the door and used her rather ample rear-end to depress the handle and push it open. We moved quickly through the unit as I followed her to my bedroom, where we set the mattress against the wall with the boxspring as I hadn’t yet assembled the bed frame.
So there I was…with an absolutely beautiful woman in my new bedroom on the very first night in it, and I couldn’t help but think one thing.
“Wait…I don’t remember telling you which unit I was in? How’d you know to go right into this one?”
“Oh, I’m stalking you,” she said matter-of-factly.
My jaw dropped, and she cracked up again as she walked out to the living room.
“Man, you’re too easy! There’s only one unit open in this building. I knew which one was yours cause there’s literally only one unit you could have been moving into.”
Of course…it had been a stupid question to even ask. I must have turned beet red because she was cracking up again and I couldn’t help but join her.
“Fuck…yea…you got me there.” I relented. “Thanks for the help. Actually come to think of it, I never caught your name?”
“Valeria, but everybody just calls me Val.”
“Well thanks again and sorry I don’t have anything to offer you as a proper thank you. I’ve just got snacks and sodas from the gas station. After I’ve had a chance to settle in, maybe I can buy a bottle of wine and we can split it on the balcony?”
“Make it tequila and we got a deal!”
“I think I can manage that.” I grinned as she headed for the door. I was stunned. This morning I’d woken up in a crappy hotel, and now I was making dates to get tequila-drunk with my sexy new neighbor. “By the way, my name is Dan.”
“It was nice to meet you Dan. See you around the building.” She grabbed the back of my arm as she went to leave and I instantly knew why she’d seemed familiar earlier. The electrical sensation flowed from her fingertips this time, and began to pulse through my veins. The now expected feeling of comfort and safety that 1737 imbued started to sink in…but didn’t last. Something was different this time, and a new feeling instead seeded in the pit of my stomach. As someone who suffers from frequent panic attacks, I knew it instantly as dread. Horrifying, gut-wrenching, nauseating dread. As it swelled, I heard the voice once more.
“I have you now.”
Just then, I caught her eyes. Black. Nothing but black. Her irises and scleras had gone as black as her hair. My own eyes grew wider, beholding the nightmare and she smiled again. Too wide. Her teeth now sharp as razors. As the dread in my stomach accelerated its ascent into my throat, I wrenched my arm free of her grip, jumped back several feet, and shouted, “What the fuck!!”
“Dude you are seriously so jumpy, that the first time a woman’s ever touched you?”
She was laughing at me again, features returned completely to normal. As quickly as it onset, my dread had evaporated and immediately I began trying to reconcile what’d just happened. Obviously, what I’d just seen couldn’t have been real, could it?