They said the power outage was routine.
Old building. Flawed wiring. Nothing unusual.
But Maya knew something was off the moment the hallway light blinked out. It didn't flicker—it shuddered, like something had brushed against the bulb from the inside.
Room 209 had been empty for years. That's what the landlord said. "Used for storage," he claimed, but Maya had heard scratching behind the door every night since she moved into 210. Like fingernails—slow, deliberate, and hungry.
Tonight, the hallway was drowned in total darkness. No backup generator. No moonlight through the high window. Just black—thick, wet, suffocating black.
And then… the scratching started again.
But louder.
Faster.
From her side of the wall.
She tried to turn on her phone flashlight. Dead. No reason. Full battery before. Now—nothing.
A soft click echoed behind her.
The door to Room 209 had opened.
She never heard footsteps. Never saw movement.
But something stood there. Breathing.
Not heavy, but shallow. Like it had no lungs. Like it was trying to remember how to be human.
"Who's there?" she whispered.
The breathing stopped.
She took a step back. Her heel touched something soft on the floor—something that hadn't been there before.
She reached down and felt it.
Hair.
A wig? No—a scalp. Still warm.
Then the voice came.
Not from the room.
Not from the hallway.
From inside her own ears.
"Close the door. Don't let the light in. We only eat in the dark."
Maya turned and ran—blindly—down the pitch-black hallway. But every door she passed… was open. She could feel it. Feel the cold air spilling from each room. Hear the faint sound of chewing behind them.
She reached the stairs. Or thought she did.
There was no stairwell. Just a wall.
Had the building always been this shape?
And now… she hears footsteps behind her.
They're soft. Barefoot. But wrong.
They sound like they're walking on the walls.
She wants to scream, but something covers her mouth.
Not a hand.
Something boneless.
---
They found Maya's apartment weeks later.
Lights working. Doors all locked from the inside.
But the hallway outside Room 209 was sealed shut with boards.
Room 209 no longer exists on the blueprints.
And yet, if you walk past that part of the building after midnight,
you might hear a faint scratching.
Sometimes it's from the wall.
Sometimes it's from inside your head.