Though he felt it was almost self-serving to think so, Ian felt this case was going to be nothing like any he had worked before. As he mounted the staircase and followed Morgan to the second floor he could feel something different than he’d ever felt before. A sense of foreboding began to fill his body, almost as if the house itself was trying to force him to leave, to let the secrets it held lie still. The landing split off to the left and the right with the staircase continuing on to the 3rd floor. The stairs extended up from both sides to another landing facing the front of the building and merged into a final single staircase to the third floor, giving Michaels the top-down view of the three-story foyer that he had first witnessed from below.
“Her apartment is just down this hallway,” said the detective, gesturing for Michaels to follow him. Turning away from the banister and the amazing view, he followed the detective about halfway down the hallway to an ornate door on the left. The door was made of solid wood, probably oak, with intricate carvings in both the door and the surrounding trim. He could tell there was some sort of pattern to the carvings, and something about them sparked a memory, but he couldn’t quite grasp it. The requisite crime scene tape was stretched across the doorway, not so much blocking the way as serving as a warning and reminder of the gruesome event. Michaels could feel something akin to a warm breeze spreading out from the door, washing over him and causing his eyes to dry out even though there was no actual movement in the air.
Turning to the detective, Michaels fought to keep his composure as the feelings he had only hints of before slowly intensified. “Thanks for your help, Detective. If you don’t mind, I’d like to look around on my own from this point.”
The detective smiled nervously at him and said, “No problem. I’ve been in and out of that place enough times to last me.” Reaching out he pulled the tape aside and unlocked the door. “I’ll be outside if you need anything; just give me a shout.” Morgan turned and walked back down the hallway, giving Ian the space he somehow knew was needed, moving quickly towards and down the stairs, as if he were afraid he’d catch something if he waited around too long.
Michaels stood in front of the door for a moment, catching his breath and trying to clear his head. He slowly gripped the doorknob and turned it, pushing on the door as the mechanism gave way. The door opened silently on its hinges, no squeaks in the metal, no creaks in the wood; not a whisper of sound came from the room now exposed in front of him, but the warm breath of air, imagined or not, still moved over him.