Feeling brave and optimistic, I slowly pushed the forsaken door open. There wasn't a sight of anybody's presence. No one stood behind the door.

The white fluorescent lights were flickering all of a sudden. I could've sworn that the lights were all OK when I had last seen them.

Then I noticed the presence of something else. Something that I had been dreading all my life - loneliness.

All the apartment doors along this corridor were open, wide open. But no light entered and no light escaped. Every door on the 2nd floor corridor - including Catalie's - was ajar, though they all shared a similar emptiness. Black portals. Black holes. Was it a nightmare being streamed in my head? I couldn't tell.

I decided to hastily head to the lobby for my guns. There were elevators docked at one end of the corridor, and also stairs. But on the way along the corridor, I stepped on something shapeless and sticky. A gooey substance. Without warning, a drop of blood dripped onto my forehead. This chance, I glanced up. But I wished I hadn't.

I saw Catalie. Catalie's body. Stuck to the ceiling by the weird, gooey adhesive stuff. Her eyes had gone dark like the waitress's. Blood streamed from holes in her neck, and from her mouth (or what remained of it). Sorry....too many gross details. I had to run. I had to hide.

My fear was killing me, consuming me like addiction, ripping me apart from the inside. Why was my luck so awful?

When I set my focus at the door of the elevator, my eyes met the goddamn waitress from that café. Where the hell did she spawn from? Why was she here anyway? Seriously....had she been tracking me?

Her appearance in the eerie silence sent an iron nail through my nervous system. Damn.

Her eyes were dark (obviously), her face displayed a set of small bizarre tattoos, and her fingernails were scissors riddled with specks of blood. By any chance, she didn't look like a friendly neighbor who's just come here to borrow a packet of sugar.

Her facial expression was indecipherable; it hid so many emotions all at once. No doubt that even the (considered) world's best emotion and mind readers, i.e. satyrs, would be cowering in fear at the sight of her malicious aura.

"No....don't....don't try to," the words were lost in my throat. My legs automatically backed away....upto a point.

My legs didn't budge. It must've been the gooey substance preventing me from walking away any further. Oh, come on! I needed my damn pistols atleast. How frustrating it was to realize that I left them back at my chamber. Damn the universal laws! Damn gravity and friction. Screw you, Isaac Newton!

The waitress slowly paced towards me. As for my legs, they were drunk and had fallen asleep due to that mysterious lucid substance. Oh great!

She innocently blinked her dark eyes, and in those black bottomless pools, I saw myself. I saw my own reflection, trying to deceive me.

While I was distracted, the waitress pounced forwards, and sank her scissor-like fingers into my neck. I met the gaze of her sweet, sentimental elfin face mixed in with and continuously switching to the current demonic one. I wondered how she must've felt living here. She must be lonely, too. But also very violent.

She cleaved through my jugular vein, blood spilling out from cuts in my neck. Blood flooded the floors with red - the color of hatred, the color of love.

Kindness blinded my mind so much that I hardly felt an ounce of pain. Everything blurred in bokeh and blacked out, and all was clear.

*****

The morning sunshine streaming through the window shutters burned my eye lids. I awoke panting, my heart playing drums, my breath running low, and my adrenaline pumping.

It might've only been a dream. A nasty illusion of a nightmare. A delusion.

But I began to think otherwise, when I found the same photo resting on the bedside table. My M9 pistols were gone; not a trace left.

What was I observing? What was I thinking? Was I just imagining all of these? I deserved to know.

A knock at the door distracted my thoughts. Wow, another knock....for the 'third' time! I didn't want to scare the shit out of myself by taking a moment to inspect the photo on the table.

I headed for the door, instead. Bracing myself for a fight, I jerked it open - too fast.

The person on the other side was knocked to the floor. I took a slight peek from the edge. Well, I hadn't expected it to be Catalie.

"Oh....sorry, sorry, sorry!" I apologized as I helped her back to her feet. "Deeply I apologize, ma'am. Are you hurt? I thought it was someone else."

"That's fine....I'm okay," she used her hand to brush away the dust from her garments. "I understand. Thank you for the apology, mister...uh...."

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"You can call me Jucas. I'm Adam Jucas, desk operative at NYPD. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Leanut."

"Pleasure to meet you too, Adam," she giggled. "Are you feeling unwell? Gripped by a sense of nausea, is it? I know a place where you can be relieved from your pain. Why not pay a visit there?"

"Sure. Sounds good to me. What's the place's address?"

"Oh, the place? You mean the café?"

For a moment's pause, I felt a breeze slice through the corridor air. Catalie hardly seemed to notice, before continuing. "Well....I suppose you're new here. So you aren't familiar with most of the local addresses, I assume. Take me with you, show me your car, and I can guide you to your destination. "

"Um....okay....?" I didn't know what to tell her or how to reply. Could I trust her? She seemed alright. This was the first time experience where I was about to go somewhere with my car, with a girl. "Okay."

"Okay. See you at the lobby in five minutes, then."

She gracefully walked back into her apartment. Somehow I felt attached to that girl. She was a woman to the world, and an angel to my eyes. Flowers bloomed and blossomed in the garden of my soul whenever I stood close by.

Suddenly, I wasn't feeling lonely anymore.

*****

"That's the place?" I made the Bentley halt beside a roadside café. It appeared to be the one I had been to, last night. But doubts were piled up in my mind, waiting for an opportunity to kickstart a rush of adrenaline and shock.

"Yep. This is it," Catalie examined the exterior view from a seat parallel to mine (i.e. the backseat)."A wonder palace, where tonnes of stress can be removed by a few sips of the distinct quality coffee."

Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee....

The word rang like a row of monastery bells, in my ears. The familiar feeling of elusive creepiness was tracing back to my memory. I wished I had never come here. Worse, I wished I hadn't brought her along with me. If I turned back now, she might be upset. Upset and disappointed because I didn't heed her advice. Girls' minds are really fragile. A single negative impact could shatter whole ideas of friendship, relationship, and dreams.

There was no choice but to agree to her conditions.

"Hmm....okay then, let's-let's go," I got out of the car just in time to help her out in the process of opening the car door, like a real gentleman. (First impressions always count, dear male readers!) This was my first-ever quality time with a woman, so I needed a premium impression to impress her. She was cute.

A foreshadowing sense of dé jâ vü hit me. The café double doors were exactly matching those of last night's crucible. No doubt, it's the same café. But this instance, I could hear some mumbling voices wafting from within. What if the place was roaring wild with zombies? What if the waitress was waiting in there, blade in hand? I didn't give a shit if I fell into a trap. Catalie's presence granted me confidence plus courage.

But as I pushed through the doors and anxiously peeked in, I found my eyes tricking me. Was I seeing things? Was I dreaming in daylight? Or was it true that the entire café was now bustling with customers?!

People - so many of them together. Nothing appeared to be out-of-place here. If I narrated my tale if what I had experienced here last night, people would mark me off as a lunatic, a madman.

Me and Catalie took two empty seats by the window. These suburbs were totally awkward. A regular residence by day; a paranormal wasteland by nightfall. I knew something was up.

Finally! I've got my hands on an investigation case which I might actually 'enjoy' decoding, I thought.

Whatever was the cause behind these occurrences, I couldn't stop till I had found that out.

*****

The evening was late and the world was painted in yellowish-orange lighting. After escorting Catalie, safe and sound, back to her apartment, I guessed it was 'show time'.

I retrieved my Remington 870 shotgun from the lobby, claiming it to be part of a 'police duty' I had been assigned to. Catalie didn't seem fooled.

"Well....there have been no thugs in these parts for like....ages. The little population who live here are all gentle folk, so I see no need for violent acts," she said. "Have a good night, anyways."

I simply pretended not to notice her and shrugged my shoulders. What I was bound for hunting tonight was far far worse than any ordinary street gangster.

I set out with my Bentley, back to that devilish café. The location was merely a couple of blocks away eastwards.

When I arrived, I parked my car across the street. Calm weather, so no trouble with rain.

I approached the doors again. Boldly, I thrust the doors open - just wide enough to let me peek in, narrow enough to conceal myself.

The sight unlocked confusion for me. There were people still drinking coffee, dining and having a chat. Strange as that!

I turned back and was about to leave with my car, when a suggestion hit me. Since I had come this far, why not have a sip of some Espresso, instead?

On the second time in opening the doors, though, revealed a complete change of scenario. I knew I had made a big mistake. In an instant, the entire café was now deserted. Just those flickering lights. Damn!

I closed the doors, then opened them again. No change. Still the same as last night. How did this happen? And why was it happening?

I realized that the sun had almost set. The final rays faded in the horizon.

I shut the doors again, and reopened them. The breath was knocked out of me by the abrupt change : the lights were out. Complete darkness settled inside.

I closed the doors. Before I even opened them wide again, my reflexes were stunned. I shut them tight in a fraction of a second. The reason : I just spotted the demonic waitress standing there, the same textures and appearance as I had experienced in my dream. Or was it even a dream? I didn't believe so.

I literally dived towards my ride, my car, my exit ticket. I snuck in through the door, landing on my seat and grabbing hold of my shotgun.

That was so frighteningly close!

I could've sworn I had arrived here alone. But I felt a hand touch my shoulder from the back. From the backseat.