The door to the apartment loomed before Iris, its massive frame carved with strange, almost ancient symbols. The wood was weathered, the paint peeling, and the brass knocker seemed almost alive in the dim hallway light. Taking a deep breath, she knocked.
The sound echoed like a whisper through the hall, and after a long pause, the door creaked open. Standing in the doorway was an old woman who seemed as much a part of the apartment as the door itself.
“Iris?” the woman asked, her voice a mix of warmth and weariness.
“Yes, that’s me. And you are…?” Iris replied, her eyes darting to the woman’s unusual appearance.
“Call me Granny Rowena, or just Granny Ro. Everyone does,” the woman said with a crooked smile. “And no, I’m not too old for a laugh, though I’m sure my jokes might be.” She chuckled softly.
Granny Ro was striking in an unsettling way. Her silver hair cascaded down her back in thick, untamed waves, giving her a wild, almost otherworldly look. Her face, marked with deep lines and creases, told stories of a long, complicated life. She wore a flowing black dress that seemed a little too formal for someone answering the door, and a thin silver chain with a small, unrecognizable pendant hung around her neck. But it was her eyes that held Iris captive—dark, deep, and haunting, as if they carried secrets far too heavy for words.
“Come in, child,” Granny Ro said, stepping aside to let Iris enter.
The apartment was a curious blend of elegance and decay. The furniture was old, but not in a shabby way—more like relics from another time. Velvet armchairs sat near a fireplace that looked as though it hadn’t been used in decades, and an ornate chandelier hung from the ceiling, though several of its crystals were missing. Dust coated everything, catching the dim light from a few flickering lamps.
As they walked down the long hallway, Iris’s gaze was drawn to a large, broken clock in the center of the room. Its intricate frame, covered in cobwebs and etched with strange patterns, seemed like a centerpiece. The clock’s hands were frozen at 3:15, and a faint, almost imperceptible ticking sound emanated from it, even though it was clearly not functioning.
“You like it?” Granny Ro asked, noticing Iris’s lingering stare.
“It’s… fascinating,” Iris replied cautiously. “How old is it?”
“Older than you can imagine,” Granny Ro said with a chuckle, her voice dipping into an eerie tone. “But don’t worry about that old thing. It’s just for decoration now.”
They continued down the hallway, passing several closed doors, each with a number carved into its wood. The air grew colder as they went deeper into the apartment, and Iris couldn’t help but feel as though unseen eyes were watching her.
---
When they reached Iris’s room, Granny Ro handed her a key with a tag labeled "303."
“Here we are,” she said. “Take a seat, dear.”
Iris hesitated before sitting in the antique armchair near the window. The chair creaked under her weight, and she ran her fingers along the worn armrest.
“Thank you, Granny,” Iris said, her voice steady despite the unease creeping into her chest.
Granny Ro sat across from her, folding her hands neatly in her lap. Her eyes fixed on Iris, unwavering and intense. “You’re very pretty, you know,” Granny Ro said, her voice soft but unsettling. “Especially your eyes and hair. They remind me of someone… someone from long ago.”
Iris forced a smile. “Oh, thank you, Granny. But I think you’re much prettier than I am.”
Granny Ro let out a sharp laugh, her bony fingers clutching the armrests of her chair. “Liar,” she said, though her tone was playful. “But I like you already.”
A soft knock interrupted their exchange. Granny Ro stood and opened the door to reveal a girl with fiery red hair standing in the hallway.
“Ah, here she is!” Granny Ro exclaimed. “Iris, meet your roommate, Avelia.”
Avelia stepped inside with an easy confidence, her presence immediately filling the room with warmth. Her curly red hair framed her freckled face, and her bright green eyes sparkled with curiosity. She wore a casual outfit—a leather jacket, a graphic T-shirt, and faded jeans that hugged her tall, athletic frame. Her demeanor was friendly, yet there was an edge to her that made her seem more grounded than most.
“Hi, you must be Iris,” Avelia said, flashing a wide smile.
“Yes, that’s me,” Iris replied, standing to shake her hand. “And you’re Avelia?”
“Yep, that’s me. Nice to meet you!”
Granny Ro smiled approvingly. “Well, I’ll leave you two to settle in. Enjoy your first night, girls. And remember…” she paused, her voice lowering ominously, “…always lock your door.”
With that, Granny Ro turned and left, her footsteps fading into the hallway.
---
The two girls unpacked and quickly bonded over their shared excitement for university life. They laughed and joked, though Iris couldn’t shake the lingering unease from her earlier encounter with Granny Ro.
As the night deepened, the conversation turned to the apartment and its oddities.
“Hey, Avelia,” Iris began hesitantly. “Do you know anything about that broken clock in the hallway? It seems… strange.”
“Oh, that thing?” Avelia said, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, it creeped me out too when I first moved in. But Granny Ro said it’s just an old family heirloom. She won’t let anyone touch it.”
Iris nodded, though the explanation didn’t ease her curiosity. “And Granny Ro? Don’t you think she’s a little… odd?”
Avelia laughed. “Oh, definitely. But she’s harmless. Just don’t let her stare too long. It’s like she can read your mind or something.”
The two girls talked late into the night, their laughter echoing softly in the room. But as Iris finally drifted to sleep, her dreams were filled with shadows—of Granny Ro’s piercing eyes, of the unmoving clock, and of whispers she couldn’t quite make out.
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