Uptown Village Apartments

Uptown Village Apartments
Before I start, I want to make it clear that this happened. I’m not in a hospital bed with a headache writing some campfire mumbo jumbo. My Name Is Calvin Coller. I’m only 24, and I just finished college. I was looking for a house in Colorado, and I found a cheap apartment building called uptown village on E. Ave. in Denver. A hundred bucks a month was pleasing to my salary of only one hundred every week.

After a couple of days, I noticed some problems in the place. There were trash chutes next to my closet in the spare, so I had to put air fresheners in so I didn't suffocate. No air conditioner, which was a huge problem. The only doorman, who was scruffy and a guy you'd want to avoid, always found a way to slip in some kind of insult whenever you came in and out of the lobby. There were no built-in lights in any part of the apartment. I had to make it rain to get enough to buy lamps at the nearby Walmart. My neighbor, who was a friendly old lady, was telling me how her car was permanently damaged by the fire, and the leaking ceilings.

When she told management, they replied, “It’s not my problem.” And the siren. You could hear night ambulance and police sirens them almost every night. The gym and pool were nice, though, and the bathroom plumbing was perfect.

I just called my friend, Kevin, over to come and see a movie that just came out. He seemed fine with it, and came over 20 minutes later. I locked my door, and we went down the stairs. The movie was going to be 2 hours long, and we were going to go to a Buffalo Wild Wings to watch football afterwards. We were having a great time, but Kevin told me he had to go home and work on a resume for a job at a car mechanic shop. Once I got home and typed the garage code in with the impossible jammed keys, I walked into the lobby and noticed the doorman wasn’t in his usual spot, eying us like prison escapees.

I made my way up the stairs and opened the apartment doors. Once I turned on the lights, I found a nasty surprise. Clothes were thrown everywhere, couches were flipped over, and my laptop was missing. I complained to management, and they replied slowly, as if they were covering something up. “It’s not my problem,” they said.

That night, I sat in the closet, mortified that the thief would come back. I wouldn’t have slept that night anyway, due to the sirens. I tapped a bat in my hand, breathing slowly. I tried to block out the sirens to listen for thumps. At 11:47, the sirens came to a stop. Everything was quiet, and dark. Nothing happened for about 2 hours, and I drifted of to sleep at 1:14.

I dreamt of a man who I have never met before, and I have never seen anybody who looked like him. I have seen him in many of my dreams before, so I didn’t mind it. Suddenly, I awoke. I heard a loud thump, as if someone smashed something with a blunt object. I hid behind some blankets, trying to avoid the thief. I awoke to sunlight seeping in through the crack of the closet door. I bolted out and looked around the house.

I was surprised to see my laptop sitting on top of the table. I turn it on to see what the thief did to it. Everything was exactly the same as 2 days ago. I kept wondering how the thief manage to get into the apartment with the electronic lock system. I’m guessing that the thief had a master lock, which reminded me of the doorman. I ran down the stairs and started screaming before I touched the floor:

“I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE GOING INTO MY HOUSE! I'M CALLING THE POLICE ON YOU! DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

“…What? Why would I break into some loser’s sorry mistake of a house?” Then, without caring, I walked away from him.

I sit on my bed that night with the bat thinking it over. I decided to wait by the door and smash the intruder's head in once he breaks in. It’s 12:42 now, and I’m getting sleepy when I hear thump...thump...thump across the floor. It doesn't sound human. It sounds different. I ready my bat, and back away a few steps. Suddenly, I see a shadowy glint coming through the door. The sirens come to a halt. The glint moves in and sways about. I break into a run and I hear a sort of low growl. I watch the figure move toward me, then disappear.

I break into a run, down the stairs. I am run as fast as I can, but then I look back and see a more recognizable outline of a wolf or dog. Then, I trip. I hit my head hard, and vision gets blurry. The wolf-like figure moves atop of me, and starts dragging me into the basement. I feel blood on my forehead pouring down my face. I can barely see anything, but I was taken behind the washing machines, and the ghost thing started feeding. I don’t remember much, but I woke with blood stains covering my entire body, and my right leg ripped off. I saw no sign of the wolf. I knew I was dead, but I managed to pull out my phone and dial 911.

So here I am in the Cross St. local hospital typing the last few days of my life. The doctor told me I may have to spend my life in a wheelchair, and that I'm going to have recurring migraines due to my fall. I don't want to live in Uptown Village anymore. I’m going to spend 3 years in the hospital, and I’ll have the choice of living with my parents, or in a rest home. I don’t want to live anywhere anymore. I can’t get that creature out of my head. I can’t erase these memories.