The apartment was dark, musty and acrid. The red carpet under their feet was worn and faded; the wallpaper had at one point been bright but had now faded to a musty yellow, peeling away from the walls. The whole place felt deserted. Jim was positive that they were the first ones to set foot in the building in years. That woman's story was beginning to have some major gaps.

Spock shone the flashlight around carefully, making sure to illuminate everything at least once and give the two humans a good view of what was around. His own night vision was above a human's level, but his practical nature made sure they were always focused on things they needed. The beam alighted on a map and they walked forward carefully, examining it critically.

Spock's finger trailed a path along the hallways, before Bones ripped it off. Spock gave him a look and Leonard rolled his eyes. "Who do you think is going to care? There's no one around. So, where do we need to go?"

Spock took it from his hands and trailed his finger along the original path he had made. "Along here. The exit to the back is here." He indicated it quietly.

"Well…let's go."

They moved to the door to the courtyard, beside a creaky, worn looking stairwell. Spock reached out, trying the handle. It was locked tight. Bones gave a soft curse, but then looked to Spock. "Can you break it open?"

Spock backed up a bit and examined it closely. They were shocked when he finally shook his head 'no'.

"What? Why the hell not?"

"Do you see the way this door is made, Doctor? These hinges here," he indicated them, "are made with a combination of titanium steel and a metal alloy that has been classified as unbreakable. The door itself…" he rapped on it and they were shocked when they heard the clang of metal, "is made of the same, just painted to resemble wood. This door, Doctor, is made for one of two purposes - either to stop something getting in, or to stop something getting out. If it is due to the former…"

"Crap."

"Indeed."

They looked at each other. "We need to get out; is there a way we can go around?"

"We should have tried that first…"

Spock looked at the door to the outside quietly; ever since he entered here there had been no whispering. He was not sure he could take the constant stream of words. But he would have to.

They shoved their way into the cold snow, looking around at the dark chain link fences and slowly moving around it. They tried the other door to the apartment and found it locked; McCoy grumbled quietly. But when they tried going around the building to the back end they found the gate was blocked, and the street beside and behind it was blocked by an impenetrable wall of concrete. The same thing happened on the other side, and they realized that the front doors were made of the exact same material.

There was no other choice. They had to go through.

They returned into the apartment, Spock moving to the desk, looking through the key holders, hoping to find something. Nothing but dust; there were no cobwebs, no signs of any life. "What kind of abandoned place is complete without cobwebs?" Bones asked softly. They gave up finding anything to get them out on this level and turned away, looking at the stairs, two gazes holding mild trepidation, one gaze holding nothing.

"Well…might as well get this over with."

The stairs groaned under their weight, dust wafting up with every step they took, the beam of light from the flashlight casting weird shadows until they reached the landing. Once they were up there, it became clear that there was only one door. Spock reached out, twisting the knob and shoving the door open. They took a step forward, their eyes shifting along the peeling wallpaper and the carpet that ran the entire length of the hallway as far as the beam of light stretched. There were dark stains on the floor and walls, none of them focused their gazes on them for long.

They tried every door, looking for one that was open. Surely one room would contain something that could get them out. Jim finally pushed a door open, Spock's flashlight immediately illuminating the interior. The state of disrepair was heightened in the room. The windows were grimy and filth encrusted so the only light that could get in was pale and weak. There was a table and a beaten-up armchair with its back facing them in front of an old device that they recognized as a television set out of Earth's history. The screen was on, the static running over the surface casting a stark glow on every object. They moved forward quietly, looking around at the interior.

There was a cloying sweet stench in the air, something familiar that they couldn't quite place, something that set their teeth on edge. Jim recognized the smell from his nightmares, his every step turning into an exercise in will. The flashlight aimed at the desk, moving over quietly they focused on the small book that was opened, a pencil resting on the top of it and a small note scrawled along the otherwise-blank page.

"Three men, tallest vertical, smallest horizontal, the medium inverted…" Bones summarized quietly. "What the hell?"

"A clock," Jim mumbled equally quietly. His mother had been interested in antiques; she had quite the collection of grandfather clocks. "Tallest is the minute hand, smallest the hour hand, the other is the second hand. Whoever wrote this wanted it to be at three o'clock with thirty seconds."

"What will that do?"

"When we find a clock, we'll know."

Spock's flashlight trailed away from the desk and alighted on the table. They blinked; there was a small key resting on the table. Jim walked forward, reaching out with his gloved hand and picking it up, looking at the tag that labeled the key for room 207. He turned to them with a wide smile and waved it in the air, and then froze. They watched his blue eyes widen in shock before he backed away. Bones' head whipped around to look at what was behind them and relaxed when he saw nothing; Spock immediately walked over and shined the light into the armchair.

A corpse lay there, its jaw hanging off at an angle, its chest ripped open and shining wetly with congealed blood. They had found the source of the smell.

But Spock didn't think that was what had shocked Jim. What had shocked Jim was the small box clock that was resting on its lap, and the trail of blood smeared along it proclaiming, 'Dare you, dare you, double double dare you'. Spock looked to Jim and then back, before reaching his hand out carefully and setting the hands how they were supposed to be set.

The corpse's bloody bone white hand grabbed Spock's wrist as soon as the numbers were set, the jaw widening further as a high pitched scream escaped its mouth, their communicators joining the squeal. The corpse tightened its grip and the other hand flew out to Spock's throat to the accompanying shout from Jim. But it didn't connect; Bones had taken a plywood beam and smashed it into its skull. The hand turned limp, falling from Spock's wrist to land on the clock.

Ignoring the episode, Spock took the clock away and examined it quietly before smashing it to the ground. It broke, splintering into tiny fragments, and Spock kneeled down, reaching out and picking up a small key. "Room 212."

"Sure, ignore the fact that I saved your ass," Bones grumbled quietly. Spock looked up at him.

"Doctor, is not the saving of a crewmember its own reward? Do you truly need me to thank you?"

"I saved you, ya pointy eared bastard; you bet I need more than that."

Jim snorted, and Spock rolled his eyes. "Of course; I should have known that the fact that you saved a member of an endangered species would not be enough."

Bones bristled.

"Look, both of you, shut up. You're arguing in front of a goddamn corpse. And Bones, he never thanks anyone anyway, or lets other people thank him. Stop antagonizing. Let's go; we'll try my key, and then we'll try Spock's; sound like a plan?"

"Agreed.

"Sorry Jim…" Bones finally grouched and the three of them left. The halls were empty, but the smell wouldn't leave their nostrils, even after they had left. Spock had plucked the pencil away from the book on the way out and took the map from Bones, crossing off the room they had just entered and placing a small check on rooms 207 and 212. That done they headed to room 207.

There were soft sounds that echoed from different hallways, sometimes sounding right next to them, but no matter how many times they turned their heads to look, they could see nothing. Spock, however, never turned his head; he could hear every sound as though it was echoing in his mind. The whispered words eating into his skin and mind.

Jim inserted the key and unlocked it, pushing the door open and revealing an empty flat. No tables, no chairs and no lamps, simply a wide empty space. Minus one small safe in the back, up against the wall. They looked at each other, two gazes holding exasperation before Spock moved forward to it quietly and handed the flashlight off to Jim. Jim shined the beam of light on the knob as Spock leaned his head down, pressing his ear onto the cool metal. They waited as Spock twisted it along, his eyes closed, waiting for the small clicks that indicated the tumblers falling into place. When the last click sounded Spock pulled away and opened the safe.

A severed head stared back at them, the words 'into its mouth, into its mouth' scrawled along the interior of the walls everywhere. They jerked back, but as Jim flinched and the flashlight beam shifted, a gleam of light from something in its mouth shined back. They froze, looking at that head and the gleam of metal in the mouth. Spock reached forward, quietly pushing the top of the head up so they could see into the mouth, seeing the small key lying under its tongue.

"Move over, Spock; if this thing bites, I'd rather have you holding its mouth open." That decided Spock shifted his grasp, holding it open as Jim reached forward, his gloves removed so he could reach his fingers into it. His body tensed as he tried to avoid touching the inner walls of the cheek, trying to avoid the gums and the teeth; the tongue he couldn't help but touch. The feel of it made him shudder. His entire body was a coiled spring of anticipation, waiting for the mouth to close, for it to try and bite, but it never happened. He pulled the key out carefully, and they relaxed. "Of course, it's just a head; it's only the full corpses that we have to worry about."

"Naturally, naturally…" Bones stated calmly, nodding his head. Spock shut the safe and they left.

"What's that key to?"

"Um…I don't know. It doesn't have a tag."

"Great. More work."

Spock took the key and began trying doors as they went, crossing off the ones that it didn't go to in a thinner stroke than the original cross. Finally they were left with a key that didn't seem to go to any of the doors inside the apartment they could get to, and three small coins. "Alright, we'll try that Corpse key. Maybe that leads to something interesting."

"I wish you hadn't said that, Bones…"

"I'm beginning to wish the same…" McCoy said softly, shuddering. He handed the flashlight back to Spock and took the key.

They kept moving, quietly intent on anything but the noises that were increasing in frequency. When they got to the room, McCoy shoved the key into the lock and opened the door, right when Spock's flashlight ran out of batteries.

McCoy swore loudly, but found his mouth covered by Spock's hand. Jim blinked when he felt Spock's hand on his wrist slowly tugging him away from the open doorway. There were noises coming from the room, harsh, grating panting noises, something sharper and louder echoing as well. "What…" That hand around his wrist snaked around and covered his mouth, and then Jim realized something strange in the half-light he was stuck with. He could just see the gleam of Spock's eyes, staring directly into the room, their look wide and terrified. Spock didn't say a word, his lips pressed together tightly, and he slowly began tugging them back the way they had come, desperately trying to make sure they didn't make a sound.

But as he watched, Spock's eyes widened further, and they heard a loud screeching deadened sound. Spock suddenly didn't seem to care about not making noise; he grabbed the both of them by the wrist and whispered, "Run," and then he was off, dragging the two behind him, that loud screeching continuing even as they ran. Bones' fingers flexed and he took a brief look behind him, but he couldn't see anything, just hear the heavy footsteps and the continued dragging metal, and then suddenly the sound of static that only got louder as they fled.

Jim didn't look behind him, his only concern on getting as far away from it as possible. If it scared Spock, he didn't want to be caught by it. They shoved the door to the stairs open and ran out; Jim stumbled and fell, rolling down the stairs. Bones leaned back with a loud, "JIM," but was shoved out the door by Spock before the half-Vulcan ran back in. Bones growled and ran in after him, only to draw up short at the terror at the top of the stairs.

Jim and Spock didn't move, the Captain staring up in horror from his position crumbled on the ground at the foot of the stairs. Spock stared up, unmoving, black eyes tracing the tall muscled form at the top. It was wearing something like a butcher's apron, bloodstains covering it; its head was hidden behind a large and heavy metallic cover that was shaped like a pyramid. But the main thing that had caught their attention was the long heavy sword that trailed from his grasp. The size was incredible, but what truly worried them was the fact that it didn't have trouble lifting it.

It slowly began its lumbering path down the stairs, Jim slowly inching backwards on his back. He was cocky, but he wasn't stupid. If that thing grabbed them, they would be done. Even Spock took slow step after step backwards, Bones moving as well. The thing walked faster, its size and the weight of its burdens not hampering its speed at all. Jim backed away, slowly forcing himself onto his hands and knees and scrambling backwards. Spock reached out and pulled him upright, and the three of them turned and ran. But just as they made it out the door Jim felt a large hand on his arm, and let out a shout before he was dragged back from Spock's grasp. The two of them stumbled forward, and turned, looking back to their captain as he was lifted in front of the giant, its pyramid-shaped head focused on Jim's wide eyes and the half-gurgle that came from his mouth.

The giant sword slowly rose but before it could do anything, Spock had launched himself forward, bringing the metal flashlight down on the metal covering its head. The loud 'CLANG' echoed, and the pyramid-headed thing dropped Jim to the ground, its hands instead coming up to cover the grating as Spock pulled Jim away, ignoring the vibrations trailing up his arm, dragging them both over to the other apartment building and slamming the unmarked key into the lock. He twisted it and shoved the both of them in, slamming the door behind them and locking it.

They backed up, staring at it with wide eyes, waiting for anything to happen, their breaths catching in their lungs, their hearts hammering in their chests.

That fear turned to hysterical laughter, Bones and Jim falling backwards on the floor. "My God, Spock! You hit him with a FLASHLIGHT!" They howled with laughter, and then their laughter stopped at the shriek of metal on metal. They crumbled, Spock's hands pressing over his ears as they tried to block out the sound in futile desperation. When it finally stopped they turned to look at the door, their eyes wide and their hearts pounding.

"We let it out… Oh God…we let it out…" Bones whispered. Jim and Bones traded a look, and then blinked when they heard the sound of Spock rooting through drawers in the desk. But when a beam of light emitted from the flashlight they relaxed.

"We must get out."

"What if it's waiting for us at the other end?"

"It is a risk we will have to take; we have no other choice."