>The Greentext Archive

>place is spotless
>like unnervingly spotless
>modem minimalist furniture, staged like a magazine spread
>no clutter, no dishes, nothing personal at all
>not even a jacket by the door or shoes tucked away
>felt more like a fake model unit than someone's home
>start doing a sweep, calling out to announce myself
>nobody answers
>about to call it in when I spot it
>small black GoPro sitting right in the middle of the coffee table
still recording
>battery light flashing red
>pick it up carefully, i's warm like it had just been used
>stop the recording, set it back down
>keep sweeping the apartment
>in the bedroom is a bed made with hospital comers
>the closet is nearly empty
>only three outfits inside
>they are all identical
>black slacks and white button-ups as far as the eye can see
>in the bathroom toothbrush still in its wrapper
>no other toiletries
>in the kitchen the fridge is totally empty except for one unopened gallon of water
>no junk drawers, no mail, no keys, no wallet
>even the WIFI wasn't set up yet
>ereepiest part was how perfect it all looked
>>like someone tried to imitate how an apartment should look but didn't know how real people live
>report everything to the front office
>mark the unit for follow-up, thinking maybe the tenant ghosted
>happens sometimes, people gat a job offer elsewhere or have personal emergencies
>very occasionally you get the fuckers who dip out before they have to pay the rent
>but the smell never really left my nose
>metallic, sharp, stuck in my sinuses
>that night can't stop thinking about the GoPro
next day, curiosity wins
>take the SD card home and plug it into my laptop
>only one video file on it
>about 40 minutes long
open the file
>video starts with a guy sitting stiff on the couch
>early 30s, clean cut, same white shirt and black slacks from the closet
>blank expression, staring dead into the lens
>just sits there not speaking for like two minutes,
>finally says, calm and flat