The Vanishing Tenant
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CHAPTER 5
INT. OAKWOOD APARTMENTS – NIGHT
Lena sat on her couch, staring at her laptop screen.
She wasn't working. She wasn't even scrolling through job listings anymore.
Instead, she had spent the last hour searching for any information about Oakwood Apartments.
Something wasn't right about this place.
She typed quickly: "Oakwood Apartments history."
Several irrelevant results popped up—rental listings, outdated city records—until one headline caught her eye.
MISSING PERSON: RYAN THOMAS LAST SEEN AT OAKWOOD APARTMENTS.
Lena clicked.
A blurry photo of a young man, early twenties, stared back at her. According to the article, Ryan had lived in Apartment 3B.
Her stomach twisted.
The same apartment below hers.
The one that was completely empty.
Except… it hadn't always been.
Ryan had vanished without a trace six months ago. The case remained open, but there were no leads, no evidence of forced entry.
Lena's hands trembled slightly as she scrolled further. A quote from the article made her heart stop.
"Neighbors reported hearing strange noises from the apartment in the nights leading up to his disappearance. Scratching sounds. Whispering. But no one ever saw anything."
A sharp knock on her door made her jump.
Her pulse spiked.
She hesitated, then slowly walked toward the door. Through the peephole—
Damien.
Her stomach clenched.
---
Lena cracked the door open.
Damien's expression was unreadable. "You were in Apartment 3B."
Not a question. A statement.
Lena's grip on the doorknob tightened. "How do you know that?"
"I know a lot of things," he said, tilting his head slightly.
Something in his tone made her skin prickle.
Lena exhaled, trying to steady herself. "Did you know Ryan Thomas?"
Damien didn't blink. "Why are you asking?"
She hesitated. "Because he used to live there. And now he's gone."
For a second, there was a flicker of something—recognition?—in Damien's gaze.
Then, his lips curved into that infuriating smirk.
"Maybe he just got tired of this place."
Lena's frustration flared. "Or maybe something happened to him."
Damien leaned in slightly, voice barely above a whisper.
"You ask a lot of questions."
Her pulse quickened.
Before she could say anything, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out.
A small, silver key.
He held it between his fingers, letting it dangle for a second—before placing it on the table beside her door.
Then, without another word, he walked away.
Lena stared after him, heart pounding.
She looked down at the key. It wasn't hers.
Then she saw the number engraved on it.
3B.
---
Later that night, Lena sat on the floor, staring at the key to Apartment 3B.
It sat exactly where Damien had left it—a small, silver object that felt heavier than it should.
Why had he given it to her?
Was this a test? A warning? A trap?
Her gut screamed don't go down there.
But her mind whispered, You have to know.
The cursor on her laptop screen blinked beside Ryan Thomas's name.
Six months ago, he vanished without a trace.
And now she had the key to the last place he was seen.
---
For nearly an hour, Lena sat there, debating.
Her apartment felt suffocating—the walls too close, the silence too loud.
Outside, the hallway was quiet.
Finally, she grabbed her phone and slipped the key into her pocket.
She had to do this.
---
Every step creaked beneath her weight.
The third floor was just as eerie as before—dimly lit, the air thick with something Lena couldn't name.
She reached Apartment 3B.
A chill ran down her spine.
Her fingers trembled as she fit the key into the lock.
A deep breath.
A twist.
The door swung open with a soft click.
---
Lena stepped inside.
Her shoes stirred up a layer of dust, the air stale with the scent of old wood and something faintly metallic.
The apartment was bare.
No furniture. No belongings. Just empty space.
Except…
A single wooden chair sat in the center of the room.
Facing the wall.
Lena's stomach dropped.
A fresh set of footprints led from the chair to the doorway—her footprints.
Except she hadn't walked inside yet.
Her breath hitched.
Someone was just here.
---
Lena turned, heart hammering, about to bolt—
Click.
The door swung shut behind her.
A breath of cold air brushed against her ear.
Then—
A whisper.
Low. Faint. Almost inhuman.
"Why did you come?"
Lena spun around—
The apartment was empty.
But she wasn't alone.
She could feel it.
Her pulse slammed against her ribs as she stumbled back toward the door, hands shaking as she fumbled for the key.
The whisper came again, closer this time.
"He was just like you."
Lena's fingers closed around the doorknob—
A sharp knock echoed from the other side.
She froze.
A pause.
Then—Damien's voice.
"Lena."
She had never been so relieved and so terrified at the same time.
She wrenched the door open, stumbling into the hallway.
Damien stood there, gaze dark and unreadable.
His eyes flickered past her to the empty room.
Then back to her.
"You shouldn't have gone in," he murmured.
Lena couldn't breathe.
Because when she turned back—
The chair was gone.
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