Apartment 415 was located on the fourth floor in a run-down tenement over on the west end of the city. It was in a horse shoe style set up at the end of the hall and on each side of that wooden door were apartments 416 and 414. Each door had a metal knocker and a little white card in a slot beside it with the words City Management. The detective was in the narrow confines of the corridor and he wondered how they managed to get furniture in these apartments.
He then knocked on the door using the available knocker and waited for a moment. The door he stood directly in front of opened and a short Arabic male rushed out, swinging a hammer at him towards his forehead. The hammer broke skin and pounded skull making the detective stagger back after the impact. The man swung the hammer again hitting the same spot, knocking the detective to the floor.
Through the blood spurting over his eyes, the detective still managed to see the man grab his legs and pull him into the apartment. He then hit the detective again on the head and a couple shots at his kneecaps. The detective released a thin screech and yanked his knees upward by reflex action.
The Arabic man stood in front of a mirror in the living area and began a long monotonous stream of obscenities. He was yelling at his reflection reminding himself of the religious war that was going on around him. He kept telling his reflection that if evil wins the war, the demons would run the human race.
The detective almost reached his gun, until a flying foot kicked him in his chin. The man picked up the gun and shot all the bullets into the sofa. He then slammed the empty gun onto the table swearing viciously and heaving his chest. The detective was on the carpet face down in agony. The flying foot caught him at full force which almost knocked him out cold.
The Arabic man was disturbed and needed mental help thought the detective. He wasn’t a killer, he just snapped. The man then began grabbing furniture and smashing it against the walls. He was agitated and he didn’t care who knew. He then heard police sirens outside his apartment. He was still breathing hard when he looked out the window.
The police captain, with several uniforms in tow, negotiated the cramp corridor in front of apartment 415. He pounded on the door identifying his status and the reason he was there. The Arabic man stood next to the window planning his next move. Around the room the fragments of shattered furniture laid about like firewood. It looked like a struggle had taken place, but that was not the case.
“The devil’s soldiers wait…”
“No,” the detective on the floor half whispered. “They’re police officers, and they want to help you.”
The Arabic man looked down at the enormous body on the floor and wondered how he remained lucid after the pounding he took. The detective was curled on the floor by the sofa, white faced, clutching his wrecked knees.
“Open up or we will break her down.”
The Arabic man just stood directly in front of the mirror awaiting instructions. After several more warnings the captain’s voice faded to nothing. He then turned to face the detective and then to the door. He looked as sorry as he could look.
“What are you thinking about there buddy?” asked the detective. Now he was less concerned about who was good or bad.
The Arabic man walked over to the window and opened it all the way up. He winced at the brightness of the sun, its light filtering through the high, narrow window. The detective tried to muster enough strength to rise from the floor. He used the sofa to gain more stability as he managed to lean.
“I cannot be taken alive,” shouted the Arabic man. The detective watched him move closer to the window hesitantly, but with a determined look on his face.
“Don’t do it,” pleaded the detective. “They’re just going to take you to the police station.”
Apparently the place where God’s soldier would be judged was located at the police station. He couldn’t let God down, and he couldn’t allow himself to be tortured by the one called “captain.”
The detective’s overriding concern was to get the captain into the apartment before the Arabic man could jump. “Captain break down the door!”
The captain and his men stormed apartment 415 with their guns drawn and they opened fire immediately killing the Arabic man before he was able to jump. After the commotion had settled the only sound that was fading was the detective’s voice finishing off the long winded noooooooo…”
If you enjoyed Apartment 415.. be sure to check out Mouths Open in Silent Screams
© 2013 Frank Atanacio
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