The Apartment Across The Way -- FINAL

Hamilton took aim and fired. The bullet tore through the door and sent wood fragments flying through the air. A voice in the hall let out a surprised yell and the door slammed. Hamilton jumped out of bed like a bolt of electricity.

          This ends now.

He flung open the door and flipped on the light switch. Someone was turning the corner into the main room. Hamilton took aim and fired again. This round found its mark, clipping the intruder’s leg. They emitted another cry and fell into the couch before crumpling to the floor. Hamilton aimed the revolved at the middle of the mass. Determination covered his face.

          Who are you?

          You know exactly who I am.

Hamilton pulled the hammer back.

          I am not messing around here. I’ll shoot.

The intruder chuckled. From the voice it was clearly a man. He was clad from head to toe in black. This was one of the rare cases when that expression was completely true; a ski mask hid any discerning facial features.

          Hamilton hesitated. He looked out the window at the apartment across the way. The lights were dancing in all four windows: pink, orange, green and blue, from left to right. They weaved a methodical and rhythmic pattern. He looked back down at the man on the ground.

          Take that mask off right now and face me. Why have you been sneaking into my apartment? How have you been doing it?

He paused.

           ANSWER ME!

The man chuckled once more.

          Like I said, you know exactly who I am.

The lights sped their dance.

          

No, I really don’t. How could I?

Hamilton waited ten seconds for a reply. He aimed the revolver once more and shot the intruder in the unwounded leg. A small pool of blood was forming on the wood floor.

          The next one goes through your head. Answer my questions and you’ll live. There’s a hospital just across the street.

          You won’t do it. You don’t have the guts to do it. You’ve never had the guts to do it.

Across the courtyard the lights had worked themselves into frenzy. What had been a beautiful symphony of light was now a violent explosion of disarray. Hamilton looked up at them once more. The familiar dark figure stepped forward into its window. Its arms were crossed in satisfaction. Hamilton sensed that it was smiling down at him.

Hamilton looked down at the intruder. He stepped forward and ripped off the mask. He fell back in horror. It was impossible. He felt like he was looking in a mirror. The intruder was the spitting image of Hamilton himself.

Who are you?! Why do you look like me? What is going on?

You won’t do it. Just shoot me.

Explain yourself!

Hamilton could not control his emotions. His adrenaline and anger at the intrusion mixed with his confusion. He looked across the way. The lights and the figure were gone.

          Someone was knocking on the door, probably the super. He did not have much time and he knew it. The front door opened.

          Hamilton pulled the trigger.

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          Frank Carson stepped out of his car onto the street. He found the right street number and buzzed the apartment labelled “Super.” A shrill tone filled the antechamber and the door unlocked. He opened it and entered. A short and simply dressed woman was waiting for him.

          “Good morning ma’am,” he extended a hand, “Detective Frank Carson."

          “Kristina.” They shook and she added, “thank you so much for coming detective. It’s just so awful.”

She was very pale and looked like she had experienced a shock.

          “I am sorry but I have to ask you a few questions. Is that alright?”

She nodded.

          “What is your recollection of last night?”

          “It happened fast. My husband and I were asleep and something that sounded like a gunshot woke us up. It came from somewhere near the back of the building so he went to go check it out. There was a second shot and we figured out that it was coming from unit 4C. He yelled for me to call the police and get the keys to the unit. He took the keys and his baseball bat and went to see what was going on. By the time he got up there it was too late.”

          “Thank you for your cooperation ma’am and I’m terribly sorry this happened.”

          Frank said goodbye and walked to the stairs at the back of the building. He headed up to the fourth floor where uniformed officers had already taped off apartment 4C.

          “Morning guys,” he nodded to the officers and they nodded back.

He entered the apartment. The hallway was littered with fragments of wood and he could tell that the door had been shot. He walked down the hall to the main room, where his partner was taking some notes. A body dressed black was splayed out on the ground.

          “Morning, Eve, what have we got?”

“Not sure. The super found the body like it is right here, gunshot wounds to the left ankle, right thigh, and the heart, which is probably what killed him. Super says it is a Hamilton McDowell, lived here for eight years. Found this in his hand.”

          She held up a revolver.

          “So it’s suicide?”

          “Maybe, but that doesn’t explain the shot through the door. And why would he shoot himself twice before the fatal shot?”

          Frank paused, deep in thought. Something had caught his eye. He walked towards the window and looked up. A figure was in the window of an apartment two floors up in the next building over. He had a strange feeling that the figure was smiling.