Chapter 1

It was late at night, and the baby in 404 wouldn't stop crying. Our building's group chat was blowing up. Then, a message from the owner of 404 popped up:

"I'll strangle him right away. Promise it won't bother you guys anymore."

...

1

Silence. Dead silence. And then, just as suddenly, the crying stopped.

A few minutes later, hesitant messages trickled in.

302: "Dude, seriously? Don't joke about stuff like that, it's creepy AF."

504: "Yeah, just soothe the baby, no need to get all worked up."

601, concerned: "@404, you okay, neighbor? Need any help?"

402, sounding panicked: "It really did just go quiet. I can't hear anything. Did something actually happen? How can a baby just stop crying like that?"

More silence. My heart was pounding. I lived in 401, right next door to 404.

I vaguely remembered the family in 404 ― a weird trio. The dad was this tall, skinny, quiet guy. Even when he politely said hi and mentioned his wife and baby, it felt forced and awkward. I’d never seen the mom. Maybe she was just constantly busy with the baby.

It was a strange family, and thinking about it, the dad could be capable of something extreme…

Thankfully, 504 broke the silence:

"@404, don't scare us like that and then go to sleep! Explain yourself or I'm calling the cops."

404 finally replied:

"Just kidding. Wife got up to feed and soothe him. He's quiet now."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. But the group remained silent. Everyone was probably still freaked out.

Just as I was about to put my phone down, a notification popped up from another group chat ― the one we used to organize a furniture group buy when we all moved in. 404 wasn't in this group. It was 504 again:

"Guys, something's not right with 404."

402: "What do you mean?"

504 fired off several messages:

"The baby cried for half an hour, and the mom didn't feed him?

Babies don't just stop crying abruptly like that. They usually quiet down gradually, even when they’re eating.

Something feels off."