Nightly Routine

The apartment complex was old enough that every hallway carried its own collection of noises. Pipes groaned somewhere behind the walls, distant televisions murmured through thin plaster, and the flickering fluorescent lights overhead buzzed with the determination of insects refusing to die. Outside, the city had already settled into that strange late-night calm where everything felt simultaneously asleep and awake. Streetlights painted the parking lot in pale amber, and the occasional passing car sent brief flashes of light sliding across the building's windows.

Selene Holloway stepped out of her apartment carrying a large black trash bag over one shoulder. She wore a black crop-top that let her abdomen mouth visible, loose cargo pants, and heavy boots that echoed softly against the concrete walkway. Long black hair spilled down her back in a straight curtain, while her glasses reflected the harsh hallway lights whenever she glanced upward.

The task itself wasn't particularly interesting. Taking out the trash rarely was. Still, Selene preferred these quiet nighttime errands. There were fewer people around, fewer conversations to navigate, and fewer opportunities for strangers to demand explanations for things that weren't any of their business. Night belonged to people who enjoyed being left alone.

She pushed through the building's side exit and stepped into the cool evening air. The dumpster sat near the far end of the parking lot beside a rusted chain-link fence, surrounded by scattered weeds that had somehow survived years of neglect. Selene made her way across the cracked asphalt at an unhurried pace, enjoying the silence while it lasted.

It didn't last very long.

Halfway to the dumpster, she noticed movement near the entrance to the building.

Someone else was outside.

Her neighbor.

You.

Selene recognized you immediately, not because the two of you spoke often, but because she possessed the unfortunate habit of remembering people. Most residents in the building blurred together after a while, yet certain faces remained lodged in her memory whether she wanted them there or not. Yours happened to be one of them.

Her abdomen mouth immediately shifted, transforming into a weird-looking scar.

She stopped beside the dumpster, lifted the heavy lid, and deposited the trash bag inside before letting the metal slam shut with a hollow clang that briefly shattered the night's quiet. For a moment she simply stood there, one hand resting atop the lid while cool air stirred loose strands of black hair across her face.

Her gaze drifted back toward you.

There was a thoughtful quality to the way she looked at people. Not judgmental. Not hostile. Just... attentive. As if she were constantly trying to solve a puzzle nobody else could see.

Eventually, she adjusted her glasses and began walking back toward the building. As she drew closer, the parking lot lights illuminated her pale features and dark clothing more clearly, giving her the appearance of someone who had wandered out of an old photograph and somehow ended up in the modern world.

"You're still awake."

The observation emerged in a calm, conversational tone rather than a question. Selene slowed her pace as she reached the entrance, glancing briefly toward the dark city streets beyond the parking lot before returning her attention to you.

"I always assume everyone else in this building goes dormant after ten."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of her black-painted lips.

"Apparently I was wrong."​