The Devil in Apartment 13

by Tiana Laveen

  “No. In fact, he’s exhausted and has a lot of work to do. He’s going into the office downtown. I’m supposed to see him late tonight, I’m cutting out early from work later.”

  “Perfect. Pick the lock and take a quick tour. Like I said, if he’s hiding something, there’s proof in there. You don’t have to worry about a nosy doorman, people snooping around, nothing like that. Just go right across the hall and take a look.”

  “Someone could see me!”

  “Girl, please! If you don’t think the people in that building don’t know something is going on between you two, you’re being naïve. It won’t look suspicious for you to be in his apartment. It should also be easy to get inside. That apartment building is old, and it’s just like the place Dad used to live in. That should help.”

  “What does Dad have to do with this and I don’t know how to pick a damn lock. Even if I did know how, I’m scared!”

  “Vivian! Stop the bullshit. How easily you forget. I taught you, remember? You’re not scared of a damn thing so stop acting like a little baby about this. Desperate times call for desperate measures. It’s like riding a bike. You and I used to do it all the time to dad’s bedroom door after he and Mom split, remember? He’d gotten his own place. We wanted to know if he’d been cheating on Mom when they were together. We wanted to know what happened to our family…”

  Tears burned Vivian’s eyes.

  She’d forgotten all about that. The time she and Fiona had become self-appointed detectives, trying to put Mama and Dad’s broken marriage back together. They’d been two young girls fraught with worry, in dire need of answers. Come to find out, Dad hadn’t been cheating at all. Sometimes, things just didn’t work out between people. It was a hard pill to swallow, the fact there was no one to blame. No woman waiting in the wings to see as the cause of all the chaos and pain. All that had remained when the dust had settled was Mama and Dad living apart. Just two people who’d fallen out of love sharing their children every other weekend…

  “Viv, are you there?”

  “Yes…” she said quietly, patting her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m here. I don’t know if I remember how to do it and I’m being honest, but I’ll try.”

  “There you go. Make sure if you touch anything once you get inside, put it back just as you found it, okay? He may be really particular and notice things like that.”

  “I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be looking for in there! I mean, a chicken foot? What? Just forget it. This is ridiculous!”

  “Fine. Go ahead and wake up one morning to the sight of a severed horse head on your bed after saying some shit he didn’t like…”

  Vivian raced out of the kitchen, opened her vanity drawer, and fished out a couple of paperclips and bobby pins. It was game time.

  “I’m headed to his apartment across the hall.”

  “Text me as soon as you go inside and again when you leave, okay?”

  “I will.”

  “This way, Vivian, you can either put your mind at ease or run for the hills… Wish for the best, little sis, but you know my motto: Prepare for the worst. Expect the unexpected…”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  In Your Dreams!

  It didn’t take Vivian long to pick the shiny gold lock of Shahzad’s apartment, much to her surprise. In fact, it seemed a bit too easy. Adrenaline pumped through her like a freight train doomed to go off the rails. She glanced at the black bobby pin in her hand, still warm to the touch from her frantic turning and poking. The memories of just how to do such a thing came flooding back after a minute or two of frustration, but she’d succeeded. But why don’t I feel successful or proud?

  Fiona was right…

  They’d been practical professionals back in the day as they sought to uncloak their father’s secrets only to find there was nothing mysterious going on whatsoever.

  Maybe I’ll get lucky and nothing will be going on here, either…

  She turned the knob and stepped inside, locking the door behind her as quietly as possible. Music was playing from somewhere inside.

  He must’ve left it on before he headed to Morocco. It’s probably coming from his bedroom.

  As she looked about the place, trying to devise a game plan for her one-woman search party, she recognized the song as ‘Le Sud’ by L’indécis. One of her favorite soulful tunes…

  She snapped out of the trance the music put her in, knowing she had to act quick. A chill snuck up her spine, and she felt it to her bones. Why was it so cold in there?

  All the more reason to get out of here as soon as possible.

  How to begin? It was overwhelming – the scents, sounds… the music and the temperature. So distracting… Maybe it was simply the chaos dancing around inside her head, as well as the guilt of breaking and entering. Shoving the thoughts aside, she decided upon the main office and living room as her first area of focus.

  The space looked fairly normal. She moved on and nothing stuck out to her. A family photo he’d shown her previously on his phone, some invoices… She extended her search to the kitchen but came up empty. Pausing for a moment, she took a deep breath to regroup.

  The scent of him lingered, and that gave her a sense of comfort while wrestling with her doubts and purpose for being there. Back and forth she went between the living room and kitchen, her conscience trying to get the best of her. A desk with drawers like filing cabinets sat in the center of the room, with a two banker lamps on it. Her gaze traveled over tasteful, expensive furniture, luxurious earth-tone rugs, and a couple Moroccan wall tapestries with silky gold and royal blue trims. Off in the kitchenette area was a stainless steel refrigerator stocked with cold sodas, juices, wine, beer and a few snacks.

  She was tempted to help herself to an iced coffee, but recalled her sister’s warning about disturbing his digs. She opened up all of the kitchen cabinets; most were empty but a few were stocked with plates, glasses, candy bowls and the like. She opened up the kitchen drawers to find cutlery, corks, utensils, and things of that nature. Sighing with frustration, she made her way to the hall bathroom. The medicine cabinet was practically bare, with the exception of an electric toothbrush, toothpaste, mouthwash, floss and mints. The hall closet held two jackets, a woven black hat and scarf, an umbrella, and a pair of white sneakers that looked brand new.

  The final room was the bedroom. Her last stop, and the one place she hoped to find more than a hanger or two and an expired lotion coupon. She twisted the knob to discover it locked. Her heart sank, then revved up like an old wind-up toy. It beat wild and reckless, thumping in her chest like out-of-tune music. Removing the bobby pin from her pocket, she made quick work of picking the lock. When it clicked, she swung the door open…

  The room smelled dank, an odor that reminded her of the cellar in her favorite Greek restaurant, and she could barely see in the darkness. Running her hand up and down the wall, she finally felt the light switch and switched it on, panic swelling within. She didn’t feel alone. Something had to be in there with her, breathing, sighing, watching. Yet, nothing appeared out of place, and no one was there with the exception of her mounting anxiety.

  There isn’t a damn thing in here. This was a waste of time and energy.

  The room featured a queen-sized bed with thick white sheets and nothing more. She swallowed, realizing she’d never been in this part of his office apartment before. She’d never spent the night there, and when she visited or stopped by, she always stayed in the outer room. They spent most of their time at his penthouse, her apartment, or out on the town, living their best damn lives. How strange that he had a bed there, but it wasn’t his style at all. It was boring, sterile…

  Well, he’s here to work. I guess he only has it for emergencies. She rubbed her hands together and began to look around. Nothing under the bed, if one didn’t count a couple of dust bunnies. She opened the small bedroom closet and spotted a plastic plant that seemed to have been forgotten, a couple pairs of slippers, another knitte
d hat, and two classic shirts that looked exactly alike. Something caught her eye then: three gray boxes sitting side by side on an upper shelf. She stretched on her tiptoes, unable to reach them.

  “Shit,” she mumbled. Jogging back to the kitchen, she grabbed the broom she’d seen earlier wedged between the refrigerator and the stove and brought it back down the hall into the bedroom. After a few good swipes, she brought one of the boxes close enough to knock towards her and grab. Gritting her teeth, she caught it as it fell in her arms and held it close to her chest. It was heavy and awkward and she struggled to hold on just long enough to take it to the bed. After retrieving the other two, she lined all three up side by side. Each had a latch, though they didn’t appear locked.

  The clasps were so shiny, like fine silver. Popping one open, she lifted off a black velvet covering, exposing a large blue glass bottle. Inside it was silver liquid which shimmered and reflected like mercury.

  What is that?

  She reached for the bottle and shook it gently. Immediately, it grew bright, illuminating the entire room!

  “Shit!” she screamed, tossing it onto the bed. The glowing light gradually dissipated, like someone, or something, falling slowly back to sleep. Taking a deep breath, she opened the second box and found another bottle, this one red with a long neck and circular body. It was filled with a clear, sparkling liquid. She glared at it, uncertain what to do.

  Come on, Vivian. Stop being a wuss! She gingerly approached it, picked it up, and studied it, too. Warmth radiated from it and it also began to glow. “What is this?!”

  The bottle glowed brighter then quickly dimmed, as if in answer to her question. She placed it gently down onto the bed, and opened the third box. This box had a gold satin lining with a piece of old paper beneath, browned and curled around the edges with faded Arabic writing. She pushed it aside, and lying in the right corner of the soft material was a heavily jeweled lamp, like the kind one would expect Hollywood genies to appear from amid a cloud of lavender smoke. Those gems were definitely real.

  And then, she caught a whiff of something. Her heart thundered in her chest. The lamp smelled just like Shahzad. She clutched her shirt and swallowed through a lump in her throat. Liz’s joke haunted her…

  ‘Maybe he’s a genie!’ The woman’s laughter seemed to echo in her mind. Carefully, Vivian cradled the lamp with both hands and wondered if the precious stones were antiques. It was elaborate, over the top, gorgeous, and heavy. Indeed, it looked far lighter than it actually was. She ran her hand along the thing, but it didn’t glow. No smoke came out… nothing. She was relieved and disappointed all at once.

  Placing all the bottles back in their boxes, she did her best to place them exactly where they’d previously been. The entire time they glowed brightly, as if trying to speak in a language she couldn’t understand.

  These are obviously some of the props from his job. Pretty cool, right? She laughed nervously as she looked over her shoulder at the closet, trying to figure out what she could stand on to put the damn things back on the shelf. She hadn’t thought that far… Then she recalled his office chair. Sure, it swiveled on its wheels, but it would simply have to do. She prayed she didn’t fall and snap her neck while using it. She retrieved the chair from the living room and rolled it down the hall into the bedroom. After a few minutes, one box was secure on the shelf, then the second. She placed the third one just so, then sighed with relief when she rolled the chair back up the hall and prepared to leave. By now she was covered in sweat and exhausted from the stress of it all.

  Sliding her phone out of her cell pocket, she texted her sister:

  He’s got a few strange things in here, but nothing that screams serial killer or to get away while I still can. I wish I hadn’t come in here because I have more questions than answers now. I will call you later. She turned off her phone, slid it in her pocket, and made her way to the front door.

  She opened it, and a tall, dark shadow loomed over her, the diamond-shaped pupils glowing like a cat’s as it skulked about in the night!

  She screamed at the top of her lungs, then stopped when she realized it as Shahzad, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes glowed even brighter now, like Halloween lanterns. The rings on his fingers seemed to come alive – bright, shiny, rotating on his long fingers with a maneuver of his thumb. Waves of hair cascaded in front of his face like a silk ebony scarf falling from a magical top hat. His gaze fixed on her, a haughty, wicked, crooked smirk on his face…

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” His deep voice boomed, despite the fact he kept it level.

  “It’s not what it looks like, Shahzad!”

  “Is it not? My girlfriend has broken into my apartment. What else could it be? Were you sleepwalking?” He winked. He wore an expression that sent chills through her very soul. Although he was smiling, his eyes were full of venom… hatred… evil.

  Despicable.

  “I’m sorry!” She waved her hands about. “See, what had happened was, I ran out of salt and needed some so I came over to your apartment and—”

  “You touched my home. I felt that…”

  “Touched your home? This apartment? Well see, like I was saying, it—”

  “No… my lamp. You put your damn hands on my lamp. I’ve had that since I was a baby.”

  “Why’d you call that bottle, I mean, that lamp, your home?”

  “Is that truly your main concern right now? Semantics?” His tone was cutting. “What the fuck does that matter? It’s just what we call it. Shit!” He banged his fist on the wall and a hole appeared.

  She gasped. He hadn’t hit the wall that hard. What potency, what rage…

  “Shahzad, let me explain. I—”

  “There’s nothing you could possibly say. Everything is all screwed up now. I see we need to have that talk sooner rather than later.” He grabbed her arm and yanked her towards him with such strength, it took her breath away. Before she knew it, he dragged her down the hall like some child who’d been caught talking to strangers.

  “Shahzad, you think that you could—”

  “Don’t say another word, Vivian. I don’t want to hear anything from you but complete silence. I’m asking all the questions now, and giving all the orders. The first command? You’re coming with me…”

  Shahzad glared at Vivian as she wiggled about in the big royal blue chair in his den. He’d gone through so much planning to make the evening perfect, putting together the research and materials to show her, aiming to give her the time of her life then ease his way into the difficult conversation. He’d been prepared. All of that though had gone down the shitter; all of his promising strategies to broach the topic of his nature and existence in this world had slid straight to Hell.

  All she had to do now was stay put and listen to him.

  “This wasn’t supposed to go this way.” He broke a five-minute silence, then lit a black and silver cigar. Puffing on it hard, he narrowly prevented it from escaping his nostrils in thick black clouds.

  “What wasn’t supposed to go this way?” she asked weakly.

  “I was going to have dinner prepared for you, make love to you until the sun rose, then I was going to sit with you and explain things so clearly, but now… now it’s all ruined. Now, I have to just tell ya, “Surprise!” He grinned, then laughed mirthlessly, making jazz hands as his anger mounted tenfold… anger at himself more than anyone else. He kept on blowing smoke rings out of his mouth. “You were right, Viv! I’m the devil in apartment 13!” He laughed louder then, losing his mind a bit…

  “You’re not the devil. You’re just… just angry with me.”

  How fucked up things had become. Vivian’s chest rose and fell; he could taste her fear. It would have tasted damn good too if she didn’t own his heart.

  “I am the devil. At least in the way people interpret the devil to be.”

  “You’re joking, right? This is not the time to call yourself that. You said you hated being called that and
I don’t find this funny, Shahzad. I told you I was sorry and I truly am! I was dead wrong to go into your apartment without permission but there were things about you… Strange things that just don’t make sense! I wanted answers.”

  “If you want answers, then you ask a fucking question.” He cocked his head and tried to curb his resentment. “What you do, baby, is you open your fuckin’ mouth and say, ‘Shahzad, baby, let me talk to ya for a minute!’” He curled his finger as if he were calling someone over. “‘I need to know something, please. Can ya help me out?’ That’s how it typically works, Vivian. It’s called Q&A. Ever heard of it?!” He sneered.

  “Stop it! You’re scaring me!”

  “Am I, Viv? You haven’t seen scary. Trust me. I’m a fuckin’ cream puff right now.”

  Silence webbed between them.

  “You need to calm down, Shahzad. First, you drove like a crazy man on the way here. I was scared for my life! Afraid you were going to run over someone or worse yet, get hit and we’d end up in the hospital. Now you’re being spiteful… cruel! I know I messed up but you’re going too far! You know me better than this. You know I’d never try to hurt you!”

  He took a deep breath and rubbed his head as he turned away from her. He hated this. Every damn second of it.

  This was typically the part where he’d destroy someone for insubordination, for not paying their debt, lying, or simply being a prick. He’d crush them with his bare hands, skin them alive, drown them in a toilet, or set them aflame without a care.

  But Vivian? The thought never crossed his mind. He couldn’t hurt a hair on her pretty little head. Besides, what did he expect to happen? The woman was inquisitive. She was a constant learner and observer. Just because she believed in the impossible didn’t mean she was some bumbling idiot. Quite the contrary. Of course, sooner or later she’d realize there were things about him that were different from all the other men she’d dated. He was in a class of his own.