The apartment was quiet, too quiet. For months, Meera had enjoyed the solitude of her fifth-floor unit, her only companions being her books and the occasional hum of the city outside. That peace, however, was shattered the day a moving van pulled up across the hall.
Boxes were carried in, one by one, by a tall, impeccably dressed man who seemed almost too perfect. His presence was magnetic—Meera felt a strange pull the moment their eyes met in the hallway. "Hi, I'm Meera," she said casually, trying to mask the curiosity in her voice.
"Alex," he replied, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Just moved in."
Days passed, and Meera noticed odd things. The scent of expensive cologne lingering in the air long after Alex returned to his apartment, faint music that never repeated the same tune, and shadows moving behind drawn curtains even when no one was home.
One evening, while Meera was returning from work, she saw a letter slid under her door. It was unsigned, but the words were chilling:
"Some things are better left unknown. Don't look out tonight."
Her curiosity battled with fear. That night, as she tried to sleep, faint tapping echoed from the walls. Tapping that spelled out a rhythm too deliberate to be random. Heart pounding, she approached her window, peering into the corridor below…
And froze.
Across the hall, Alex's apartment light flickered once, then went out. But a shadow lingered near her door—a shadow that wasn't hers.
A whisper seemed to crawl into her ear, though no one was there:
"I know you're watching, Meera…"
And just like that, the once-quiet apartment felt alive with secrets she wasn't ready to uncover.
Cliffhanger: As Meera pulled her blanket tighter, a soft knock echoed through her door. Slowly, almost trembling, she opened it… and found an envelope with her name on it—but no one in sight.