It started as a faint hum. Maya could hear it when the building was at its quietest, like late at night when the residents were asleep, and the city outside was a muted murmur. The sound seemed to come from the walls themselves, a subtle vibration that made her skin prickle. 

She ignored it at first, chalking it up to her imagination or the quirks of an old building. But after a few nights, it became harder to dismiss. 

---

Maya was sitting cross-legged on her bed, her sketchbook open on her lap. She was working on a piece for the exhibition—a sprawling, abstract interpretation of the rooftop slide where she and Aiden had first met. The soft scratch of her pencil filled the room until she froze. 

That hum again. 

It wasn’t just a sound now. It felt alive, like it was resonating through her bones. Maya set her pencil down and got up, pressing her ear to the wall. 

“Okay, this is creepy,” she muttered. 

The sound was louder here, more distinct. It wasn’t just a hum—it was a low, guttural growl. She pulled away, her heart racing. 

---

The next morning, she brought it up casually over breakfast with Tessa. 

“Do you ever hear weird noises in the building?” Maya asked, stirring her coffee absently. 

Tessa paused, mid-bite of her toast. “What kind of noises?” 

“Like... a hum, or a growl. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s just strange.” 

Tessa shrugged. “Old buildings make weird noises. Probably just the pipes.” 

Maya nodded, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. 

---

Later that day, Maya met Aiden on the rooftop. He had brought sandwiches from their favorite deli, and they ate together, watching the clouds drift lazily across the sky. 

“Hey,” she said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Have you ever heard anything weird in the building? Like... noises?” 

Aiden frowned, considering her question. “No, not really. Why?” 

Maya hesitated. “I’ve been hearing this sound at night. It’s... unsettling.” 

Aiden’s expression softened. “Do you want me to come check it out? Maybe it’s something simple, like a loose vent or something.” 

Maya smiled at his concern. “You don’t have to do that. It’s probably nothing.” 

But the truth was, she didn’t believe that anymore. 

---

That evening, Maya found herself in the hallway, staring at the strange door near the building’s entrance. It was inconspicuous, tucked away beside the elevator and partially hidden by a staircase. She’d passed it countless times without a second thought, but now, something about it felt... wrong. 

The door had a thin crack running down its center, jagged and uneven. Maya crouched down to examine it closer, her curiosity outweighing her unease. 

The hum was stronger here. It vibrated through her fingers as she brushed them against the cold surface of the door. 

“Maya?” 

She jumped, spinning around to see Dante standing a few feet away, his sketchbook tucked under his arm. 

“You scared me!” she exclaimed, clutching her chest. 

“Sorry,” he said, looking genuinely apologetic. “I was just coming back from class and saw you here. What are you doing?” 

Maya hesitated, unsure how to explain. “This door... It’s weird, right? Do you know what’s behind it?” 

Dante glanced at the door, his brow furrowing. “No. I don’t think anyone does. It’s always locked.” 

“Have you ever heard noises coming from it?” 

Dante shook his head. “No, but now that you mention it...” He trailed off, his eyes narrowing. “Why are you asking?” 

Maya bit her lip. “It’s probably nothing. Forget I said anything.” 

Dante didn’t look convinced, but he nodded. “If something’s bothering you, let me know, okay?” 

“Okay,” Maya said softly, appreciating his concern. 

As Dante walked away, she turned back to the door. She felt a strange pull toward it, like it was silently beckoning her. For a fleeting moment, she thought she saw movement in the crack, a shadow shifting unnaturally. 

Her blood ran cold, and she stumbled back. 

“Nope,” she muttered, turning on her heel and walking away as quickly as she could. 

---

That night, the sound grew louder. It was no longer just a hum or a growl—it was a voice. Low and guttural, whispering words she couldn’t understand. 

Maya buried her head under her pillow, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know what was happening, but one thing was clear: something in the building was very, very wrong. 

And she couldn’t ignore it any longer.