Chapter 2: When the Screaming Starts
Suddenly, a scream rang out in the hallway, and the delivery guy’s phone went straight to voicemail.
The scream was sharp and real—no mistaking it for a joke. My hands froze on the doorknob, and I felt a chill run down my spine.
A moment later, I saw what looked like a foot slowly disappearing through my peephole.
I pressed my eye to the peephole, heart pounding. The hallway was empty except for a scuffed sneaker, vanishing around the corner. The silence that followed was worse than any noise.
I pressed my ear to the door. That’s when I heard it—clear as day.
Hiss hiss.
The sound was low and drawn out, like something huge dragging itself across the tile. My skin prickled, and I pressed my back against the door, barely breathing.
No snake? Then what’s in the hallway right now?
I kept replaying the manager’s words in my head, feeling angrier by the second. I wasn’t making this up. Not for a second.
That delivery guy was probably in serious trouble.
I thought about his friendly smile from the app profile, the way he always waved at the security camera. Now, I couldn’t shake the image of him being dragged away.
No way a garter snake could do that. This thing was a monster. For something to take down a grown man that fast, the snake had to be seriously dangerous.
I pictured the size of that skin—longer than my couch, easily. This wasn’t some garter snake. This was something out of a nightmare.
I called 911 and told everyone in the group chat not to go out until the professionals arrived.
My fingers shook as I dialed. The dispatcher sounded skeptical, but promised to send animal control and the police. I posted a warning in the chat, my words coming out more desperate than before.
The guy from 1008 teased: "Is this a prank? Maybe the delivery guy’s just messing with you."
Someone else replied with a laughing face, like this was all some elaborate setup. I wanted to scream.
707 chimed in: "Not going out? I still have to pick up a package."
I could almost hear him shuffling around his apartment, more worried about his Amazon box than the monster outside.
Mrs. Ramirez added, "My baby needs to go down for some sun every day."
I rolled my eyes. Did she really think a little sunlight was worth the risk? People’s priorities never cease to amaze me.
You can’t help people who won’t listen. If something happens, that’s on them.
I sat down on the floor, back against the door, phone clutched in my hand. I’d done my part. The rest was up to them.
All I could do was lock my doors and windows and wait for the professionals.
I checked every latch, pulled the curtains tight, and sat there, watching the hallway through the peephole every few minutes.













