Noah put his hood down and stepped into the elevator, the cold steel walls reflecting his calm, detached expression.
“Ding!”
The doors of the elevator slid open, he walked out of the building without so much as a backward glance.
Once outside, he paused for a moment, scanning the quiet street. With a sigh, he rang the bell for Apartment 16.
No response.
Shrugging slightly, Noah moved to the next apartment. Apartment 17.
He pressed the button and waited, his hands now in his pockets clearly not interested in ringing again.
The silence was interrupted by a soft crackle through the intercom, and a woman’s voice, hazy with sleep, answered.
“Who… who’s this?” she asked, her voice slightly confused, groggy from being suddenly awoken.
Noah didn’t waste time on pleasantries.
His tone was steady, almost clinical.
“You might want to call an ambulance for your neighbour at Apartment 15. If you don’t, he’s going to die from shock and internal bleeding.”
The woman gasped audibly, her breath catching in her throat. The sudden shock of his words shook her to her core.
Before Noah could say anything else, she hung up, the line going dead with a soft click.
Inside her apartment, the woman’s hands were trembling as she clutched her phone. Her heart pounded in her chest, and a sense of dread filled her mind.
She was alone, and the idea of something terrible happening next door made her skin crawl.
“What do I do, what should I do.”
Trembling, she paced around her small apartment, glancing nervously toward the door. Her mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation.
She thought about checking through the peephole, her fingers itching to unlock the door and peek out into the hallway.
But fear crept into her thoughts, clouding her judgment.
“What if it’s a serial killer?” she thought, her hands shaking harder.
“What if he’s trying to lure me out?”
Her breathing quickened, and she felt her pulse hammering in her ears.
“No, no. I can’t open the door. I can’t risk it.”
Finally, she made a decision. With trembling hands, she dialled 999, her voice shaking as she waited for the operator to answer.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I… I think something horrible happened to my neighbour at Apartment 15,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Can you tell me what happened? Is someone hurt?” the officer said calmly.
“Yes… I don’t know! A man just called me through the intercom, and he said that my neighbour is going to die from internal bleeding and shock if someone doesn’t help him. I’m scared. I don’t know if it’s true, but I don’t want to open my door. What if it’s a trap?”
“I understand you’re scared. Stay calm. You did the right thing by calling. We’re going to send someone to check on your neighbour. Can you tell me exactly where you’re located?”
“Apartment 17, second floor… I don’t know if the man who called is still outside, but I didn’t open my door.”
“That’s okay. Please stay inside. Don’t open the door for anyone except the police, alright? Officers are on their way. We’ll check on Apartment 15 and make sure everyone is safe.”
“O-okay… should I stay on the line?”
“You’re safe right now, but if you hear anything suspicious, you can call us back immediately. Stay where you are until we confirm everything is clear.”
“Thank you… I’m really scared…”
“It’s alright, help is on the way. Just stay inside.”
The woman hung up the phone, her hands still trembling, her mind racing with anxiety.
She leaned against her door, listening for any sounds in the hallway, but all she heard was her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.
The minutes dragged on like hours, the silence in her apartment oppressive.
Meanwhile, Noah had already left the neighbourhood. His pace was slow and deliberate, the sound of his footsteps fading into the quiet night as he walked a few blocks away from Horace’s building.
The cool air brushed against his face, but he paid no attention. His hood was up again, concealing his expression, though a faint smirk played across his lips as he glanced over his shoulder.
After about twenty minutes of walking, the familiar wail of sirens reached his ears. He turned his head slightly, spotting a police car racing in the direction of Horace’s apartment.
The red and blue lights reflected off the dark windows of the surrounding buildings as the car sped past, its tyres screeching softly as it rounded the corner.
Noah’s smirk widened as he watched the flashing lights disappear down the street.
“I guess she saved him,” he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible in the quiet of the night. “It’s not your time to die, Horace.”
To be honest, Noah didn’t care if Horace lived or died. He had left it up to fate, indifferent to the outcome.
It wasn’t about mercy, and it wasn’t about cruelty—it was simply a matter of chance. Horace’s life had hung in the balance, and tonight, it seemed fate had decided to spare him.
“For now,” Noah whispered, his smirk fading slightly as he walked further away from the scene.
He knew that the police would find Horace, broken and bloodied, but alive. They would piece together what had happened, but by the time they did, Noah would be long gone, his presence nothing more than a fleeting shadow.
“Let’s see what you do with this second chance, Horace,” Noah muttered under his breath, his tone laced with cold amusement. “But remember, next time, it won’t be so easy.”
He slipped his phone from his pocket and called for an Uber, his thoughts already drifting away from the night’s events.
As he waited for the car, Noah looked up at the sky, the moon hanging high above, casting a pale glow over the quiet streets. The police would handle Horace now, but that didn’t concern him. He had done what he came to do.
When the Uber arrived, Noah slipped into the backseat, his face hidden beneath his hood once more. “Take me to …” he said, and the car took off to his mansion, disappearing into the night.
Let’s see where fate takes you next, Horace, he thought, his eyes cold and distant as the Uber sped toward his mansion.
Your gift is the motivation for my creation. Give me more motivation!
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