The Balcony Effigy Killer Chapter 1

I was on a work trip, but my neighbors were blowing up the group chat, tagging me in ALL CAPS, cursing me out for knocking on their window in the middle of the night, and threatening to come upstairs and kill me.

I stared at my phone screen, utterly confused. I was a thousand miles away in Nashville, munching on some Nashville hot chicken. There wasn’t even a roach in my apartment, let alone a person. Who the hell was knocking?

Operating under the principle that there are no such things as ghosts, I told my neighbor to go take a look.

The resulting video they sent showed a massive, homemade effigy hanging from my balcony, swinging back and forth with the draft from the HVAC unit, repeatedly striking the glass.

The effigy was human-sized.

It was headless and handless.

* * *

It was 2:30 a.m., and the condo group chat was detonating.

A resident named “Inkwell” was furious: [Is the moron upstairs high? KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK! It’s been an hour! What time do you think it is?!]

RyanCole302: [Maybe it’s just the wind? Who’s a big enough idiot to knock on a window at 2 AM for fun?]

Inkwell: [Bullshit! It’s not the wind! It’s got a rhythm, man, someone is deliberately knocking! Still going! I swear I’m coming up there to kick your ass!]

A girl named “SweetSpot” chimed in: [An hour of knocking? That’s kind of creepy. Does that unit have someone with a mental health issue or something?]

Seeing them argue, I felt compelled to step in as a good neighbor: [Hey, man, chill out. What building are you in? Don’t get worked up, just ask security to go check, right?]

The next message was Inkwell changing his screen name to “FinnMiller402.”

I froze.

402? That was the unit directly below mine.

He was yelling at my apartment?

But I was in Nashville on a consulting gig. Nobody was home. The place was locked up tighter than a drum.

I cautiously typed: [You’re 402? Are you sure you’ve got the right unit?]

FinnMiller402 (Inkwell): [QuestionMark.jpg. You think I don't know where I live, genius? You must be an idiot.]

My gut clenched.

A burglar?

But what kind of burglar breaks in, steals nothing, and spends an hour playing bongos on the window? It made no sense.

Two minutes later, Finn sent another message: [I called security and the building manager. They’re on their way up. The son of a bitch upstairs is going to apologize on his knees tonight!]

As a lifelong, meek consultant (the perpetual 'B' party), my first instinct was to de-escalate: [I am truly sorry. I’m the owner of 502. But I swear I’m not home right now, and there is absolutely no one else there!]

FinnMiller402: [???]

BrawnyBrock: [Holy crap, a horror story?]

SweetSpot: [Maybe your parents or a relative took your key and didn't tell you?]

HarveyReno: [Even a relative wouldn't be banging on a window in the middle of the night, would they?]

Pierce602: [It’s a break-in, then.]

BrawnyBrock: [What kind of thief is that cocky? Trying to get caught?]

The bizarre turn of events drew out every night owl in the chat.

Just as the speculation hit a fever pitch, Pierce602 posted a video: [@SeraKnight, is this your place?]

BrawnyBrock: [Oh, Momma! What the hell is that thing?!]

SweetSpot: [That looks familiar…]

I clicked the video with a trembling hand. One look, and the blood drained from my face, a chill shooting straight up to my scalp.

My living room curtain was partially open. Right in the center of the balcony, a huge, white object was hanging.

It looked like a human-sized rag doll.

The central air was blowing directly on it, and the thing was swinging back and forth with the draft, striking the floor-to-ceiling panoramic window with a rhythmic “Thud, thud, thud.”

That was the sound Finn downstairs had been hearing.

Pierce602: [Is that supposed to be one of those old-school weather dolls?]

HarveyReno: [Who makes a doll that big? It looks like a person. @SeraKnight, did you hang that?]

I quickly denied it: [Absolutely not! Why would I hang that creepy thing?!]

BrawnyBrock: [Wait… could that actually be a person?]

SweetSpot: [How long have you been gone?]

Me: [Two days. I was scheduled to be back next week.]

Just as we started arguing about what the thing was, Finn messaged again: [Security is here. I’m going in with them to check it out first.]