The Haunting of 401
1The air at 3 AM was thick with an oppressive silence, weighing heavily on Sophia Grant's chest. Outside the window, the city had dissolved into a viscous ink-black void, with only a few faint, blurred neon lights flickering in the distance. She rubbed her dry, swollen eyes, her fingers still cold from the keyboard—another night swallowed by reports and numbers. Her bones ached with a deep, draining fatigue, as though every ounce of energy had been squeezed out of her.The apartment building was eerily quiet, the usual sounds that filled the halls had completely vanished. This kind of stillness should have lulled her to sleep, but instead, it felt like a cold, transparent film that clung to her, tightening around her chest.Then, suddenly, a thud! The sound sliced through the silence, sharp and jarring.It came from outside her door, close, almost as if it was right against the wooden panels. Sophia's heart leapt, and her throat constricted. She froze, her blood seeming to freeze in her veins as her ears strained to catch any sound from the hallway.Silence again. No footsteps, no distant murmurs from neighbors, nothing. Just the lingering echo of that thud, pressing against her taut nerves.Sophia tiptoed to the door, moving as quietly as a cat. The peephole on the old door was murky, caked in dust, like a blurry, grimy pupil. She held her breath, leaning in closer. In the dim hallway light, nothing caught her eye—except for the corner of what seemed to be a square box.A chill shot up her spine. Who would be delivering a package at 3 AM?Her mind screamed at her to walk away, to avoid the unknown. But her body, as if drawn by some invisible thread, moved toward the door. Trembling, Sophia extended her hand, her fingers lingering on the cold door handle for a few seconds before twisting it open with a sharp motion.She bent quickly, snatching the box. The moment her fingers brushed the rough cardboard, an icy cold, as if from the depths of a freezer, pierced her bones without warning.With a slam, she shut the door behind her, pressing her back against it. Her heart pounded in her chest, echoing in her ears, as if it would burst free. The cold box felt like something from a grave in her hands.Under the harsh light of the living room, the red string binding the box seemed almost unnaturally bright. Sophia fetched a pair of scissors, the blade hovering above the string, hesitating. In the light, the string appeared dark in spots, with a coarse texture that seemed to have absorbed some liquid, now dried. She dared not think too much about it. With a determined breath, she sliced through the string with a sharp snip.Inside, there was nothing but an item lying alone at the bottom of the box.It was the pair of pearl earrings that Sophia had lost nearly a week ago.The small, rounded pearls shimmered faintly in the light, but the glow sent a shiver down her spine. She remembered losing them in the crowded subway and had been upset for days. How did they end up here? Who found them? And why… why return them like this?A surge of curiosity compelled her to pick up one of the earrings. Without thinking, she turned the metal clasp over, bringing it closer to her eyes.On the inside of the clasp, a tiny engraving caught her eye. It wasn’t wear, it was deliberate.The numbers: 4, 0, 1.401? What did that mean? An apartment number? A code? Or… a mark?401… 401… The three digits pressed against her temples like cold steel needles, each one sending a sharp jolt through Sophia's skull. The old apartment building had a simple layout—just four apartments per floor. Sophia lived in 402. Next door was a young couple, always in and out at odd hours.401… wasn’t that the apartment across from hers? But Sophia had been living there for nearly two years, and the door across the hall had always been closed, never opened. In her memory, the deep brown door stood permanently shut, and the cement in front of it was unnervingly cleaner than the rest of the building. Too clean. Too… lifeless.A deep unease pushed her to dial the building management's emergency line. The ring echoed through the stillness of the night, jarring in its sharpness. It rang for what felt like an eternity before a groggy, annoyed male voice answered."Hello? Who’s this?""Hi, sorry to bother you. I'm from 402, uh... sorry, 2nd floor, 402. I wanted to ask... is anyone living in 401?"There was a long pause on the other end of the line, as if the question had caught the person off guard. Then the voice dropped lower, taking on a strange, uneasy tone."401? Oh... 401... that one's been empty. It's been empty for years.""Empty? No one's living there?" Sophia pressed.***本内容需购买可见***
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