The Apartment Across The Way -- Part Four

I have been delayed in posting due to travel. Thank you for your patience, and enjoy.

Part Four



                The next three days passed without incident. Hamilton spent the weekend taking a series of long walks, exploring the nooks and crannies that the city had to offer.  These walks helped him clear his head after a long week in the trenches. He watched the apartment across the way each night. No lights appeared. He halfway expected the light to reappear on Monday, but nothing out of the ordinary happened.

                On Tuesday he arrived home later than usual. He sprawled out on the couch without turning on one of the lights. He was unsure how long he had been laying there when a familiar flicker caught his attention. The light had returned. It had returned, but not in the same way. It had moved to the window on the far right of the building, and this time it was orange. It did its familiar dance, perhaps a little more agitated than the two previous times he had seen it.            

                Hamilton watched the light for twenty minutes, which again turned into five hours. When it finally vanished he looked at his watch. It read just after ten. He had spent his weekend walks wondering what these phenomena could be. The only scenario that seemed to fit was that someone in his building was responsible, flashing a flashlight from his building to the other. Still, he could not explain the changes in color, the man in the window, or that the light never appeared on the exterior of the apartment across the way.

                The radiator next to the couch began hissing. Hamilton rubbed his eyes and closed the radiator valve. He rose to his feet, poured himself a glass of water, and completed his door locking ritual. Then he slipped on his pajamas, closed the bedroom door, and fell into bed. He was more exhausted, without explanation, than he had been when he had arrived home. Hamilton flicked off the light and glanced a final time up at the apartment across the way. All was still. Without another thought, he rolled onto his side, and fell asleep. His sleep was dreamless.

Hamilton awoke with a start. His heart was racing. He glanced at his alarm clock, which read four thirty. The room was still pitch black. No lights from the courtyard were visible. The clock display provided the room’s only light. He was unsure of what had awoken him, until he heard a faint creak from the other room.

Damned old building.

He had been begging the super to come and take care of some old broken floorboards for six months, but had always been met with weak excuses. He rolled over to his other side to go back to sleep. A second creak pierced the air, louder than the last. Hamilton opened his eyes. The second was followed by a third, softer, but closer to his door. He held his breath and could hear his own heartbeat. The creaks were getting closer. Inch by inch, the sound of soft, measured footsteps approached his door. His eyes had adjusted to the dark room, and he stared at the door. A creak resounded from just outside.

                The door opened.