Page 109 of The Other Side
Slowly and cautiously, he entered the room first, with me right behind. He flipped the light switch on inside the door, bathing the room in a bright glow from the one overhead fixture in the middle of the room.
The room had the same layout as Chance’s apartment, which was a mirror image of my own. Although the room was empty, making the space feel quite cavernous, it had an odd sour smell that seemed to permeate the walls.
“Hello?” Chance called out, grabbing my hand to comfort me, or himself, or maybe both.
We stayed quiet for a moment; the only noise we could hear was that of our breath. Everything in the room was still and silent. Satisfied that we were alone, we made our way to the bathroom, and sure enough, just like in my room, there was a trapdoor in the ceiling. Except the cord had been cut, and all that remained was a frayed nub.
“Wait here,” I told Chance before marching back over to my apartment, returning a moment later with the fire poker and a chair, handing them both to Chance.
Without needing an explanation, he crawled up on the chair and used the poker to dig into the wood of the trapdoor, in order to carefully pry it open, gently releasing the folded stairs to the ground.
Instantly the sour smell became more noticeable. Taking out his cell phone, Chance turned on the flashlight before he began his ascent with me right on his heels. He took only a few steps up the ladder, and the moment he got a look into the attic space, he practically fell backwards.
“Are you okay?” I stumbled back, helping him stay on his feet. “What did you see? What’s up there?”
His blue-grey eyes had never been more fearful than when he looked over to me and said one word: “The bodies.”
