Despite the thuds, the pounds at the door; throughout the rest of the apartment there was an eerie silence. The type that'd make the hairs on a long dead body stand up and in through the window blasted frigid gusts of wind, capable of snap freezing any drops of perspiration, be they nervous, anxious, or terrified. A feat, that was rather odd for St. Louis in late April, however was something that no one with any half functioning mind would concern themselves with when the possibility of their own mortality lie in wait just outside their only real exit.

Effectively, Kendall was trapped like a rat, backed against a corner with no real chance of escape. Unfortunately for her, she wasn't a rat. She had no advantage with her back against the wall, so as the pounding on the door continued, she cowered. Fell to the ground and curled herself into a pathetic little ball and rocked back and forth whispering hopelessly to herself: "I don't wanna die." Desperately she repeated that over and over, trying to instill into herself some sense of security; that she would die on her own terms and whatever was there would stop if she just convinced herself of that one life assuring lie. However, she was much too smart to fall for her own nonsense and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't persuade herself into a false sense of safety. Some could say that was for the best. Then again, the saying ignorance is bliss exists for a reason.

Funny how being faced with the prospect of death reveals someone's true colors, isn't it? Just a few moments ago, this was the same woman who was so quick to kick another living, breathing human being out of a window, sending them plummeting to their demise. All for naught as now, she's curled up in a little ball and crying out for mama. Like a scared child. The wind continues to blast through the open window, its frigid air nipping at the back of her neck and forcing her hair to scatter about, though no amount of hair could cover her face well enough to mask the tears dribbling down her face. If she were facing the window, surely she'd have icicles on her cheeks. However, as it stands she's facing the door. The door from which the pounding is coming from. The door that's rattling, trying its hardest to come off the hinges and fall forward.

However, it doesn't. It never does fall off the hinges.

No matter how forceful the thing on the other end is; no matter how much the door rattles and shakes; no matter how close it is to giving in; it doesn't. That fact alone was enough to give Kendall; dear crying, alone, and afraid Kendall hope. However, this hope proved itself to be a double edged sword for as soon as she settled into a state of acceptance that whatever's behind the door wouldn't be able to get inside for the time being and her fear shifted from imminent death, those same restless feelings found themselves nestled into a brand new phobia that didn't even cross her mind before; what exactly it was behind the door.

She gulped hard for whatever saliva she had left in her mouth to go down her throat and made her way closer to the window, where she pulled as hard as she could to get the pane to lower back down all the way; to block out the unyielding winds. To no avail as she found the window to be stuck; possibly frozen by the windstorm. All she got for her troubles were gusts of dry ice cold wind and a face now full of frozen tears. Without any more struggle on the window, she shuffled her feet across the carpeted floor, trying her hardest to make it seem like no one was home. This plan constructed as an attempt to fool whatever was waiting for her. This plan, that much like her others failed because instead of faltering and disappearing, the knocks grew louder, stronger. The door rattled more violently as the hinges struggled to keep it in place.

Still, whatever it was, it was still trapped outside.

Kendall's mind raced, coming up with question after question in regards to the dreadful situation she found herself in. Who could blame her? After all, being faced with something that might not even be human, judging solely from the knocks on the door, was something that would be enough to pique anyone's curiosity. Especially when said possibly nonhuman was very obviously hostile. So, instead of formulating a possible defense strategy should the creature break through the door, she busied herself with odd questions and the possible answers she could think of for her own inquiries.

The first and foremost being: what does it look like?

Oh, the many different possibilities she pondered:

At first, she pictured a gargantuan, amphibian like in nature creature. Standing bipedal, with webbed hands the size of kettle bells, the mass of which being more than her entire body. Its facial structure resembling a fish. Not a fish's facial structure alone; the entirety of a fish's anatomy atop the massive body. Scaly, with bulging, solid red eyes. With each subsequent strike at the door since she envisioned it, the monstrosity grew larger, more twisted and demented.

Soon, the eyes were red, with black irises. The scales on the face became more prominent, sticking out and even off the rest of the body, held on loosely. The beast grew in size until it was large enough to realistically burst through the ceiling. Its hands thicker, larger, with long claws growing from the fingers. The facial scales spreading to the body, though bloodstained.

This vision of her impending doom forced a sick feeling into her stomach; as if she wasn't already uneasy at this situation.

Struggling, she choked down a mouthful of vomit and returned to her heavy, agonized breaths as the thought of the monster in her head facing her in the real world became more and more of a reality in her mind. However, it wasn't so much the creature's alleged appearance that frightened her the most; it was what it wanted with her that did that.

Ah, the second question she begged of herself, that was. And did she have an answer.

That thing, whatever it was; her self imposed monster or otherwise, was the danger Jessie had warned about. She reasoned with herself that she had figured out just how honest the sure corpse was and now it was coming back to haunt her. There was something else at work here that she wasn't even aware of, yet the continued falling back on not heeding Diaz's warnings remained her answer as to why she didn't actually know what the beast's intentions were. However, she figured that if Jessie had taken it upon herself to save her from it; its intentions were to maim and/or kill her. That was all the information she needed; the only thing that got her to obey her potential savior's post humorous words.

Now, the third question that she tortured herself with: why?

Why was the beast doing this? Why was it coming after her?

She thought back, to what she dreamed of during her stay in the hospital; how only one dream plagued her sleep throughout her entire stay. The image of a man named Samuel Klein being the Devil in disguise and no matter how many times she tried to deny it, it always came back. No matter how many times she awoke in the middle of the night; kicking, screaming, crying out for someone to make it stop though every time she closed her eyes his face stared back at her's with a wide eyed smile. Acceptance. Pride.

What for?

This was the question she spent the longest amount of time on. Oblivious to the poundings of the beast, she sat, fallen to the ground once more running through her thoughts to isolate whatever caused this fear. The answers were obvious at first: Klein was of course, the man who kidnapped her and despite his charming enough exterior, he was and still is a cold blooded psychopath, capable of doing anything. It wasn't so much a wonder as to why he haunted her dreams, no. The oddity was the sick sense of pride in his eyes while doing it.

Not pride for his own accomplishment however. No.

His pride always seemed to be directed towards his victim. The one kicking, screaming, and crying every time she saw his face.

The one who sent a woman falling to her death.

Jessie was right; there was something dangerous lurking around this apartment. However, she wasn't very clear with what she meant. The thudding at the door ceases, nothing. Finally, Kendall releases the air caught in her lungs and lulls herself back into a state of security as it appears whatever was tormenting her has stopped.

For, did it ever really exist?

There's something lurking around this apartment.

And that something is me.

And that something will continue lurking around until she finds the missing piece of the puzzle. The thing connecting all of this together. The reason why though she kicked the body of Jessie Diaz out her window, she didn't find her body splattered against the pavement below.

This leaves me with one question:

Who would've thought a simple five letter word would unlock so much?