A new twisted short story for my Morbid Ink Project (my paid subscribers get the first look at all my stories). The final chapter will publish on 2/25. The tale will also be available for subscribers to Medium in the near future.
Once a serene shoreline, the coast was now in chaos. Angry waves crashed onto the beach with a fierce determination, only to retreat back into the tumultuous ocean. The once-peaceful wooden boardwalks trembled and occasionally splintered under the powerful winds. The heavy rain flooded nearby streets, turning the area into a watery mess. As night fell, the storm continued its ruthless attack, causing even the sturdiest beachfront buildings to quake. The wind howled like a savage creature, showing no signs of slowing down.
As the raging storm battered the coast, whipping up a frenzy of rain and sea water, the currents ripped up a wreck buried deep beneath the bay’s surface. The force of the waves tore away parts of the decaying vessel, hurling them towards land. Pieces of rusted steel and broken cargo littered the shore as the storm raged on past sunset. However, most of the debris remained unnoticed amid the chaos and destruction of the Nor’easter. Only a few foolish souls braved the elements to witness nature’s spectacle. The remaining residents of the coastal town had already left or remained inside their homes and apartments to ride out the tempest.
Amid the storm, a dutiful lady continued her duties inside the lobby of The Neptune, a converted hotel turned into an apartment complex. The building was past its prime, but it was her home and office. The howling wind buffeted the windows and rattled the bronze front door, but Chastity paid little attention. Her focus remained on her smartphone. The historic building weathered many Nor’easters over the years, so the woman worried more about the steady drain on her phone battery. The power went down several hours before, leaving the residents of the city in the dark and Chastity stuck behind the desk.
Normally, she was the landlord and leasing agent. However, the storm warnings sent many of the older residents to disperse inland to weather out the storm in hotels. Chastity hunkered down to ride out the fury with the few remaining residents. She had little choice but to remain at the lobby desk since her night clerk failed to show up. Not that she was angry at the man’s choice. After all, it would take a heartless person to complain about an employee unwilling to put their life in jeopardy over a part-time job.
Over the course of the evening, several of the residents made their way down to the lobby. They wanted company after the power dropped. Amid the awkward discussions that centered on the storm, they invariably asked for updates on when the power would come back. Chastity smiled despite wanting to tell them to check their cellphones or call the power company.
One man kept showing up in front of the counter that night. Ben Truedell, who had an apartment overlooking the bay, was an ex-sailor. The jovial older man with thick gray hair and a scar along his cheek appeared worried despite his attempts to joke with Chastity. It was his habit. The man almost always came down from his apartment during the storms to chat with the people on duty. Sometimes he would stagger down before telling the staff wild tales of his adventure across the globe on nights like this. However, Ben would grow serious after a while. He once told Chastity to never sail during a Nor’easter. When she asked the reason, he only shook his head.
“These eyes have seen too many things. Remember that every vow you break will always come back to you. That’s why I stay on land now,” Ben said with an air of resignation.
A sudden gust of wind and rain struck the outside glass while she thought about the conversation. It gave her a chill for no reason. Chastity sighed. Out of habit, she looked up at the round metal wall clock, yellowed from the years of smoking inside the building. Below it sat the old switchboard, which became a display piece behind the marble front counter. Since the clock ran on electricity, it still showed the same time, seven forty-two. While she realized the chances that the power would come back soon were slim, the woman stayed in the lobby during the bulk of the storm.
She got out of the chair and stretched, tired of losing to the online game. Chastity let out another sigh as she checked the time on her wrist phone. It was almost one o’clock, and she debated going to her apartment. Except for her, the lobby remained deserted.
As she lifted her arms over her head to stretch, she frowned. Watching the cold wind-driven rain, blown in from the open sea as it beat steadily against the glass, the woman realized her predicament. She was reluctant to leave, knowing as soon as she did, one of the residents would call her or come by her apartment. The thought of running through the swirling gusts of water cascading among the buildings along Front Street to get to her car suddenly had an appeal. She smiled to herself at the insane thought.
If the lights come on, it won’t matter now!
With a yawn, the woman stepped away from the counter and went into a small nook where the coffee station rested on a tiny refrigerator. She grabbed a clay mug with the building’s name printed on it, then poured water from the coffee station tap. Fortunately, the water remained hot enough for tea. Dipping a tea bag into the mug, she debated staying in the building against the idea of going home that night. So absorbed in her thoughts, she did not look up when someone pushed open the front door of the hotel.
A gust of cool and damp air blowing into the lobby and sending marketing brochures across the counter and to the floor suddenly pulled her from her thoughts. Chastity looked up, surprised she saw no one by the front door. Annoyed, she left her mug on the table and hurriedly walked across the marble floor to close the door.
After she shut it, she turned, nearly slipping to the floor. Looking down at the watery, muddy tracks leading from outside into the lobby. Confused, since she had seen no one enter, the building landlord looked around curiously. For a moment, she didn’t see anyone in the lobby at all. Then she spotted someone standing near the elevator at the other end of the room.
The tall figure was leaning against the wall, appearing to wait for the elevator to come down, and the person seemed to struggle to stand upright. Wearing a shapeless black raincoat that hung heavily on their body, so long that it nearly touched the floor. With sleeves too long for their arms, the appearance immediately warned Chastity.
A vagrant!
Her thoughts went to the homeless encampment a few blocks away. She drove by it earlier that day, but the woman assumed the police had already forced them to a shelter before the storm. Staring at the figure, Chastity hesitated, unsure how to proceed. The mental illness of such people left her worried for her safety despite her belief in helping such a person. Worse for her, if something happened, the storm outside would delay any police response.
The weight of the situation settled heavily on her shoulders as she watched the person in the black raincoat turn to look at the stairwell. She guessed it was a man given his height, which made her even more worried. Her job was on the line if he went upstairs and started knocking on doors, but something inside her hesitated. It was a gut feeling, an indescribable reluctance to confront this stranger who seemed to hold power over her. The lobby around her felt suffocatingly still and silent, like the calm before a storm. Just behind her, Chastity heard the steady shower of rain pattering on the large window behind her, mocking her hesitation. With trembling hands, she pulled her keychain from her pants pocket, which contained a small bottle of pepper spray. Then she took a step forward, determined to do her job.
With a flash, the electricity suddenly restarted inside the building, causing her to jump. As she stood there, the elevator door suddenly opened. The old-fashioned wrought iron elevator door opened and the man leaning against the adjacent wall limped inside. As the door closed behind him, he didn’t turn around. Chastity finally spoke up.
“Hey, you! Wait a minute!”
Frustrated concern filled her face as she hurried across the floor, nearly slipping again on the muck leading to the elevator. When she got to the elevator shaft, the open iron design allowed her to see the swaying steel cables. The sound of the elevator motor down in the basement hummed. She stepped back, considering her options.
“He knows they’re waiting,” a hollow, guttural voice escaped from the elevator.
While it bothered her that the stranger walked through the lobby without being seen, Chastity was more worried about leaving her station. For her boss, rule number one for the late shift was to remain in the lobby area.
The elevator motor suddenly stopped, and she looked up to see the arrow on the dial pointed to the third floor. Chastity heard the steel doors far above her opening. Almost immediately, she heard a scream. A heart stopping wail that came through the elevator shaft sent shivers down Chastity’s neck. She immediately headed to the stairs.
Winded from the climb to the third floor, Chastity looked around as she got closer to the elevator. The doors were already closed, and the occupant continued his journey to the top floor. The woman hurriedly scanned the area and finally noticed movement by a large pot holding a fake plant. Chastity wanted to sigh in relief when she saw the pair of tennis shoes slowly moving, and she hurried over. She found a young, terrified woman in a fetal position behind the plant. She recognized the tenant, who was wearing a green jumpsuit.
“Miss Wallace, what happened? Did you see a man inside the elevator?”
The distraught woman stared at the landlord with wide eyes before she started rambling incoherently.
“I — was coming down to the lobby. When the elevator door — opened.” She suddenly looked over at the elevator.
“But — it — wasn’t a man. It — didn’t have any face!”