Darkness fell as the evening approached. The corridors and staircases lay deserted. A woman moved across the garden, almost gliding. A holding on to a small fist curled around her hand. 

She gently let go of the child and looked up towards the east wing. She could almost hear the two boys chatting. 

“Just wait” she muttered. “You will pay” and then she wailed like a banshee and her scream echoed throughout the block. 

Henry and Jeremy were both quiet. Sitting and waiting patiently for their thoughts to settle. What they had witnessed was still unsaid between them. 

After a while, Henry spoke, “Was someone actually there? Or was the old man simply scaring us?”. Jeremy didn’t respond. He was already searching for the fire that had happened. The information was old and not much could be found on the Internet. He had expected that. Hardly anyone cared about a fire that had burnt more than a few decades ago. 

The search came up with only two results. The first one was from the official government archives. “The fire at the Remi west wing block resulted in no casualties, moreover it was quickly put out before spreading through the whole block”. Jeremy agreed that this was in line with what they had heard before. 

However, the second search link was from a private blog post. The first few paragraphs contained the same details as the page prior. Although it did add a crucial bit of new information. 

“In the morning hours of Thursday, the 15^th, a fire raged through one of the wings on the Remi block. Alarms sounded almost immediately and the whole area was evacuated. The fire officials were delayed in responding as they had to fight through the blizzard and ice-coated roads”. Jeremy continued reading. “The official cause of the fire was never disclosed but reputable sources from the scene confirmed that it was caused by a pair of delinquent teen boys playing with matchsticks near the electrical room”. 

Jeremy paused and thoughts flooded his mind. 

Focused on the screen it would have been hard for him to notice a woman standing opposite the glass window. She was staring at him intently. She had a slim figure. But that was all about her beauty. Her toenails were longer than a crow’s beak and bent like sharp claws. The feet were crooked and broken at the ankles. Her legs were burnt, charred tissue dangling in thin glowing red strips. The fingernails were too long and had brown dried mud in them. The arms looked as if they had been stabbed repeatedly by glass. Pieces of ruby red shards were jutting out from her forearms. And then the face. 

Someone had sprayed acid on it, eyelids melted off, dark patches of black tissue circling her hollow eyes, nasal bone glistening in city lights. The facial tissue scared like it had been torn apart by a shredder and put back with glue. 

She intently stared, fingernails almost scratching the glass. She slowly reached down with her one hand and placed it on the latch. Slowly she began to turn it upwards. 

BANG! From the street below. The woman disappeared with blinding speed. Jeremy and Henry jumped down and ran towards the window. A truck had collided with a fire hydrant. Its owner, dazed, swaggered onto the road a slumped into a foetal position. He was immediately surrounded by people. “Should we go down!?” screeched Henry. But it was evident that the driver was already being assisted to his feet. The boys sat there for a brief moment staring at the ruckus. After a while, they slumped off from the glass and returned to their usual place. 

“I never thought of entering the west wing,” said Jeremy after a while. Henry looked up in alarm. “Why in hell would you like to go in there?” he asked looking aghast. “I just want to know what happened, don’t you? I have been living in this complex my whole life and I have never once ventured into that place” replied Jeremy. “Well, there is a good reason why we won’t,” said Henry. The discussion was settled. Henry knew that he had no reason to step foot into that infernal place. 

After a while, Henry left for his house and Jeremy continued working on his soundtrack. 

Both boys slept uneasily that night. 

Early next morning they awoke to sirens ringing all over the block. Still half asleep they worked their way out of their homes into the corridor. Down in the garden a couple of paramedics stood over a small stretcher. The woman next to it was howling with grief.  

Henry and Jeremy ran down at breakneck speed and skidded to a halt at the entrance of Everknot. The old man from before stood leaning on the tree with his head looking down. 

 “What happened!?” shouted Henry. The old man looked up at them, gazed hard and said “She did it”

The boys worked their way through the crowd and reached the centre. The woman from before was wailing and banging her head on the gurney. On it was the corpse of a young child. He must have been six or so. The senior paramedic covered the body while the younger one was trying to comfort the mother. 

Jeremy quickly gathered his wits and asked the old man “How did this happen”. “The young boy, while playing had gone up to the west wing. The paramedics say that he must scaled the corridor wall somehow” replied the man grimly.

“But you doubt that theory” muttered Henry under his breath. The old man had heard him. He only looked up at the corridor from where the boy had fallen and stared intently. 

“It’s no point now. What’s done is done” he gathered himself up, shifting the wait on his walking stick he strode past the boys without saying another word. 

Nothing much happened for the next few weeks, the whole block seemed to be in mourning. A small makeshift monument was erected in the garden. 

But life went on, once again Everknot was full of kids enjoying the slightly warmer weather. Snow had stopped, but heaps of it still lay on the ground. Muddy puddles were aplenty. There had been no other unfortunate events. 

Early on a Sunday, Jeremy and Henry sat working in their respective rooms. Jeremy was writing a new draft for his upcoming essay. Henry was working on a new song on his guitar. 

On the sixth-floor west wing corridor, the old man walked calmly shifting his weight from one foot to another. He walked up to the spot where the child had apparently fallen off. He searched for markings but there weren’t any. He stood there bent, examining the floor. There was a low rasping noise from a few meters behind him. He stood up suddenly, almost cracking his back. Eyes focused forward he continued walking straight ahead not daring to look back. The rasping noises were closer now. The old man abandoned his walking stick and started stumbling hurriedly towards the exit. Placing his foot on the first step, he looked back. No one was there. Hastily he walked down at a quickening pace and disappeared around the second landing. 

He quickly reached his apartment, entered, and locked the door. Peering out of the eyehole he scanned the surroundings. No one. He was calm now. He cursed at himself for panicking and for losing his stick. But all was good now. 

He turned away from the door and- She was standing right in front of him. 

Jeremy was walking around the block, his headphones on, not a care in the world. He passed the bookshops, the cafes, and the hair saloon all while humming to his music. Soon he rounded the corner and entered the Remi block. Everknot lay straight ahead. He turned left and started climbing the stairs two at a time. His animatronic doll project was almost finished, just a few final touches and it’ll be mega. On the fourth floor just outside his door, he bumped into Henry. “Man, I was just coming in to see ya,” said Henry. They entered the house and made their way to Jeremy’s room. Henry plopped down on a beanbag while Jeremy pulled out a stool and sat next to the foldable table. The doll stood proudly, fitted with new attire. “What you gonna name it?” asked Henry. “Haven’t come up with anything yet” replied Jeremy. They stayed in the room till late evening. Both then decided to head out for a smoke. They reached their usual spot on the sixth-floor corridor. 

As Jeremy was about to pull out a cigarette, he noticed a small child-like figure leaning on the opposite corridor. Throwing off caution he raced towards the other hallway, Henry hot on his heels behind him. They soon reached the corridor. It was empty. Then they heard a child’s laughter coming from the shadowed corner. Pensively, they made their way towards the source of the noise. It was coming from behind a half-open door. 

Jeremy, out of thrill and less concern slowly approached the door and peered inside the room. There were no signs of a child or any laughter. The icy air held still inside the room. 

A small shadow zipped across the main halfway. Both the boys entered the house with feather-like feet. They continued down the hallway. Then giggling noise mixed with laughter came again this time from a door on the left. Jeremy dared to open the door. There was bright light inside. A beautiful young woman sat in the corner. A small child, six or seven was playing with a toy train. She looked up at them and smiled. It was warm and welcoming. She showed no signs of surprise as the two boys entered her house without an invitation. 

She beckoned them towards the sofa. Both Jeremy and Henry sat down, transfixed by the woman’s grace and beauty. “I am sorry, but have you just moved in?” asked Jeremy. “No, I have been here for a while now” replied the woman. “Sorry about barging in, we thought the child was in trouble. He was leaning too close to the wall and you what eh…… happened recently,” said Henry. Her smile faltered down slightly. “Yes, I heard, quite tragic” she muttered. “My son has been known to get into dangerous situations, but nothing really happens to him. My love always protects him” she added. “My name is Jeremy, and this is Henry,” said Jeremy as a form of informal introduction, “What’s yours?. “Martha” she replied simply. “And your sons?” asked Henry. “Remi, we named him after this block you see, it was our first home after the war. “The war?” asked Jeremy, his finger going numb. “Yes, you see, my husband and I moved in here during the unrest”. “The war…” mumbled Henry. That was decades ago, and this young woman seemed hardly 20. His heart beating faster now, he looked at Jeremy who was sweating. The woman looked at them and smiled. 

The smile stretched from ear to ear, lips split open revealing sharp serrated teeth. “We lived in this west wing before the fire and continued living in it afterwards” she added with all the gracefulness of a rabid wolf.

The young boy turned to face them now. It was just ash, no nose, no mouth just black tar-coated ash. The woman stood up; seven feet tall she walked towards them. “You boys are just like those who played with matchsticks and burned us all” “YOU NEVER LEARN DO YOU” she screamed. Jeremy and Henry suddenly found back their drained energy and bolted for the door. The woman calmly walked behind them leaving one ash print after another. On reaching the corridor, the boys looked back. “My child and I lived here and always will. It’s our home, but you can always come back if you want a cup of tea or a chat” with that she shut the door with such force that the wind knocked both the boys down. Jeremy got up quickly and pulled Henry up and they rushed out, down the stairs into the Everknot. 

The beautiful woman glided back towards her chair and placed the toy back into her son’s arms. 

“Papa will be home soon. I’ll put on the kettle” and she pulled out the silver metal pouch and lit a cigarette.