Addison Apartments had always carried a strange sort of stillness, like the building itself was holding its breath. Even in the daylight, shadows clung to the corners of the hallways like secrets too afraid to come out. The wallpaper on the second floor peeled slightly at the edges, and a faint odor of burnt coffee and something less pleasant—mildew, maybe—lingered in the air.

Despite the building’s age and poor financial state, it remained occupied by a curious mix of tenants, most of them with stories best left unspoken. The fifth floor, however, was a different matter entirely. Half-finished and long abandoned, the floor had been cordoned off for years, left to rot in eerie silence. No one went up there. At least, not officially.

That evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the lights inside flickered with their usual unreliable hum, something changed. A metallic clang echoed faintly from the stairwell—subtle, but distinct. A door creaked open where there shouldn’t have been one. And for a brief moment, the elevator display blinked to ‘5’ before quickly returning to ‘1.’

Sal stood in the dim hallway, mask catching the glow of the overhead light. He hadn’t pressed the elevator button, but he saw the numbers change. He felt the chill roll down the back of his neck.

Something was calling from the fifth floor again.