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"The Hole"

    There's very little we understand about this world. Why people do what they do is one of them. It's hard to process what is going on in someone's head unless they let you in to their little world. But when they inevitably do, make sure it's something you're prepared for...

    I stood before the door to yet another apartment. What was it, the third one today I'd been to? I wasn't sure. All I knew was I was ready to call it a night.
    I grabbed my keys and flipped through the mass of jangling metal until I found the one I needed. They numbers on the key matched the door number, so these had to be it. I unlocked the door and turned the knob, letting myself inside. I wasn't quite prepared to be greeted with the waft of fresh paint. This place wasn't properly ventilated, was it? I went to open a window and dropped my toolbox on the floor.
    First thing's first, I need to check and make sure the wiring is working right. I went from room to room and flipped the light switches on. They all seemed to work just fine. No faulty wiring that I could see, no bulbs that need switched out. This was going to be easier than I expected.
    Thankfully, I got here after they cleaned the apartment out, otherwise I'd be tripping over a bunch of useless junk to get where I need to go. Next, I checked to make sure all the faucets were working. I tried the kitchen, then the bathroom. The sinks and bathtub seemed to have good water pressure. That's another check off my list. I'm just waiting for the one check that I do that doesn't work as intended. Maybe some screws might be loose in the cabinets, or the HVAC unit might be faulty. I had to desperately hope not.
    After doing a couple more meaningless checks on things around the apartment, I reached the point of checking the walls and floors for any damage. I started with the floors, since it would be faster.
    Walking across a couple floorboards, I found a few of them to be squeaky but not really loose. I jotted that down. Then, it was on to the walls. the bland, plain white walls.
    I ran my hand along the bedroom wall and stopped when I noticed something. My fingers ran across something loose. I turned to look, dreading it might be something I'd have to fix. My gaze fixed on the wall, where I spotted a piece of string. It was a lot thicker than string, maybe yarn? I tugged at it a bit and a large strand raised from the wall, pealing away some of the paint as it went. I tugged more and more, trying to track where it lead.
    The yard seemed to trail on for quite a bit. As I pulled, I noticed it was starting to reach the floor. I tugged and pulled until eventually, I felt it stop. It felt like it was caught on something in the wall. Something tough. I didn't want to tug too hard, as it might break the yarn. Instead, I dropped the string and ran for my toolbox. I fumbled around, trying to fin something sharp. My eyes landed on the putty knife. I grabbed it and ran back to the bedroom. I went to the wall and found what it was caught it. It was a piece of square felt that was stuck to the wall and painted over.
    I dug a part of the blade of my putty knife under the felt until it started to come up. I soon realized what this was as I saw a hole in the wall emerging. This was to cover something up. My question now was, did the previous tenants do this, or was it the clean up crew that came in after? I shrugged and continued to tear the rest of the fabric off the wall. I mean, I can always patch it back up. It's my job after all.
    After peeling the last of the fabric off, I saw the cutout in the shape of an oval. Almost like a head shape. In the center of it I could see a bit of light. What was this?
    I leaned in, pushing my head into the hole. The hole itself was a little tight. I had to maneuver my head a bit, but eventually I got it to fit. And when I finally got in there, I noticed my eye was almost perfectly aligned with whatever that light source was, which happened to be looking directly into the bedroom of another apartment.
    "What the hell?" I muttered. The bedroom was pink and strewn with lights and posters. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement. It was a woman. She was short with black hair, styled as if she had just crawled out of bed. She wore a form-fitting grey tank top and a pair of black basketball shorts. She was looking around her room until I saw her grab something from far away. This felt wrong. What was this hole even for? To spy on this woman? That thought made me nauseous.
    I was about to back out and close the thing up, when she turned to face me. Her face twisted into a rageful one. She walked in my direction, muttering a few things. I tried to back out, but my head was caught. The hole was too tight. I tried to wiggle my head free but it did very little. Looking at the woman, she had something in her hand. Was that a screwdriver?!
    I fought as hard as I could against the drywall to escape but I couldn't. I couldn't break free. Pain suddenly shot through my skull when I felt the screwdriver she was holding plunge directly through my eye.
***
    "Yes, officer, I reported the neighbors multiple times to the landlords," I said, looking back at my wall that had a screwdriver stuck in it. "I was told they moved out, but then I saw them spying on me again."
    "How were they spying on you exactly?" asked the man on the other line.
    "I guess they drilled through the wall or something and made a peephole," I replied. "I'd always hear someone talking or something shiny on the other side. I didn't know if it was a camera on their eye, but I never really felt safe. But after I was told they were kicked out, I moved back in here."
    "And then it happened again?" the man on the other end interrupted.
    "Yeah," I said. "And I told myself, if someone ever tries doing that again, they'll regret it."
    "Are they still there?" he asked. "We can send some of our guys out there and lock him up for a bit."
    "Oh yeah," I replied mischievously as I toyed with the screwdriver in the wall. "They aren't going anywhere..."

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