At first, I thought I was imagining it.
The wall directly across from my door looked… different.
Smoother.
Cleaner.
As if it had been freshly painted.
But the building was old.Nothing here was ever freshly painted.
And that part of the hallway—across from Room 0B—had always been blank wall.
Until now.
I stared at it.
Then walked over.
Ran my hand along the surface.
Plaster.
Seamless.
But the air was cold.
Colder than the rest of the hallway.
Like something behind the wall was breathing inward.
I stepped back.
Counted the units.
Room 0A.
Room 0B.
Then this wall.
Then 1A.
There should not have been enough physical space for another room.
And yet, I could feel it.
A presence.
Watching from behind.
Waiting.
That night, I dreamed I was in the hallway.
But the wall across from my door was gone.
In its place: a doorless frame.
Inside: total darkness.
I leaned in.
Heard whispering.
Like dozens of voices all saying my name, out of sync:
"Elias…Elias…Elias…"
Then one louder voice:
"Come home."
I woke in a sweat.
The hallway outside my apartment was silent.
But light bled from under the base of that wall.
A thin strip of yellow.
Like the kind you'd see from under a locked door.
But there was no door.
I pounded on it.
Hard.
No hollow sound.
Just the dull thud of impact absorbed.
But then something knocked back.
Three times.
Matching my rhythm.
I backed away.
The lights in the hallway flickered.
My phone buzzed.
A new notification:
📥 ROOM 0C REQUESTS ENTRY APPROVAL
Approval?
There's no 0C.
I clicked deny.
Immediately, the wall groaned.
Like it was stretching.
Or… suffocating.
The next morning, my doorman wouldn't look at me.
I cornered him in the lobby.
Asked about 0C.
He muttered:
"It was never meant to open.But it has nowhere else to grow."
I grabbed his arm.
"What's in it?"
He looked up.
Eyes hollow.
"The ones who said no."
I ran.
Back upstairs.
Back to my hallway.
The wall was changing.
Bulging.
Slightly outward, as if something inside was pushing.
Like it wanted out.
The scroll had returned on my table.
New words inked in black:
"ROOM 0C – STATUS: FORMINGOCCUPANT: UNCLAIMEDREQUESTING HOST PROXY"
Below that, a checkbox:
[ ] ACCEPT[ ] DECLINE
And below that:
"Inaction is considered consent."
I stared at it.
Then burned it again.
It returned again.
Ink darker this time.
The checkbox now checked:
☑ ACCEPTED (DEFAULT SELECTION)
My phone buzzed.
New calendar event:
🗓️ "Welcome Reception: Room 0C Integration"Location: YOUR UNITTime: NOW
I heard footsteps in the hallway.
Heavy.
Slow.
I opened the door.
No one there.
Just a shadow stretching out from the wall across.
As if someone on the other side of the wall was casting it.
But no light source could explain it.
And the shadow was moving.
Pacing.
I leaned in close.
"Who are you?"
Silence.
Then a reply, faint but clear:
"Your exit plan."
The plaster cracked.
Hairline fractures spreading like a spiderweb.
And in the center, a peephole formed.
Like an eye opening.
Behind it: darkness.
Then movement.
Then… my own eye staring back.
But blinking out of sync.
I fell backward.
Scrambled into my apartment and slammed the door.
The mirror on the wall was fogged again.
A single line written in the condensation:
"You're being divided."
I didn't sleep.
I waited.
Sunrise came.
I opened the door again.
The wall was gone.
In its place: a black door.
No knob.
No peephole.
Just smooth obsidian.
At the center: a gold placard.
It read:
"0C – Claimed"
And below that:
"Welcome, Elias"
I reached out.
Touched the surface.
It was warm.
Familiar.
Then the door spoke—not aloud, but inside my head:
"We've been waiting for you."
"The rent is now memory."
"Payment begins at entry."