Neighbors

Nothing ever happened to me. I'm a good guy, I don't interfere with anything, I don't play games with otherworldly forces, I wasn't even interested in all this nonsense. Maybe it's people like that who have these weird things.

Before moving to this city, I had a one-bedroom apartment in Ukraine, in a shitty town. I inherited it from my grandmother. Right after finishing my studies, I got a job there. I had a place to live, and I wanted a break from my parents. Everything was fine, but my neighbors turned out to be alcoholics, and what alcoholics they were.

A constant bad smell, shouting, arguments, piles of trash—everything, exactly as it should be. Typical alcoholics, but their daughter—my God, she was so beautiful! You couldn't take your eyes off her: long brown hair, huge green eyes; she didn't fit in with "that" family at all. A couple of times I smoked with her near the entrance, and it turns out she's smart, too. I felt sorry for the girl. I decided to hit on her. I courted her, but we never started dating.

And I remember one night, as if it were yesterday. It was after midnight, and I, a true lover of the night, couldn't sleep. I decided to go outside for a smoke. When I reached the entrance, I noticed that the lights were out on the entire floor. It crossed my mind that this was odd, since there had never been any problems with the electricity before.

I stood there smoking. It was so quiet, with a warm breeze, I couldn't resist lighting a second cigarette. When I got tired of it, I started heading back. I went up to my floor and saw that the door to my alcoholic neighbors' apartment was ajar, and strange sounds were coming from behind it.

Well, I'm not one to be shy, so I decided to pop in, in case they'd been poisoned by bootleg vodka and my daughter was asleep. So I quietly entered, and it was dark, and I heard something groaning. I called out:

"Anyone alive?"

Silence, I couldn't see anything in the darkness, so I started to light a lighter. I'd already gone a little further when suddenly something enormous began to rise from the middle of the room. I stood frozen, unable to move, even if someone shot me.

I stood there, frozen, my hand outstretched in front of me with the lighter, unable to bend it. Then, little by little, my strength began to return. I spun the lighter wheel once, but the lighter didn't light. A second time, the same effect. The third time, a light flickered, and in its light I saw something holding my alcoholic neighbor by the hair, so her feet weren't touching the floor.

At that point, my ability to function returned, and I stormed out of their apartment, simultaneously kicking open my own door. I locked the door and called the cops. Half an hour later, a squad of valiant law enforcement officers was at the entrance. They questioned me back and forth, but no one said anything.

Rumors spread quickly. Some said a maniac had slaughtered the entire family, while others insisted cannibals had eaten them. But the rumors remained just that: rumors. As it turned out later, my neighbors had one sane relative, whom I happened to cross paths with once. What he told me was the only ray of light that shed on the whole situation.

The police found only the daughter in the apartment, lying in a pool of blood in the middle of the room, which had come from her arm, or rather, from where her arm had once been. According to the man, it was as if the arm had been torn from her body. The man took the girl in, as she had no other relatives left, but after that, the girl stopped talking.

He hoped to learn the details of what had happened from me, but what could I tell him?