Apartment 7B

A narrow, deserted apartment hallway. Buzzing fluorescent lights. A single EMERGENCY EXIT SIGN casts a red spill across peeling paint and old carpet. Distant pipes groan inside the walls.

RAVI KUMAR, 38, building superintendent, stands outside APARTMENT 7B. He wears work boots, a faded polo, a utility belt, and carries a clipboard. His haircut is practical. His eyes are watchful. He looks slightly greasy from a long shift.

Only one person is present in the entire film.

Apartment 7B. Water damage complaint. Let’s see kya scene hai.

He checks a MASTER KEY RING, then looks at the locked door.

Tenant ko weeks se kisi ne dekha nahi. Mail bhi jam hai. Aur yeh hallway… isme kuch theek nahi lag raha.

He flips open the MAINTENANCE LOG on his clipboard.

Inspection note. Apartment 7B. No response from occupant. Repeated moisture reports from exterior threshold.

A faint TAP-TAP comes from behind the door.

RAVI pauses.

Sunaa? Yeh plumbing jaisa sound nahi hai.

He steps closer, flashlight in hand, and sweeps the beam over the door frame and floor.

Yahan paint ke neeche brown line hai. Water stain nahi… aur kuch.

He kneels, inspecting the bottom of the door.

Gap bhi hai. Bohot chhota, but enough.

He notices a faint drag mark on the carpet.

Koi heavy cheez yahan se ghisi gayi thi. Ya andar kheench ke le jaayi gayi.

He stands, pulls out a TAPE MEASURE, and measures the distance from wall to door.

Door frame intact. No forced entry visible. But floor marking suggests repeated movement of heavy objects.

He opens the MAINTENANCE LOG and turns pages.

Delivery notes… groceries, laundry, package return… par tenant ka naam? Abhi tak kisi ne sign-off nahi kiya.

Another TAP… TAP-TAP… from inside.

Kaun hai andar?

Silence.

RAVI lowers his flashlight and notices a folded PAPER SCRAP stuck in the gap under the door. He uses a flat tool from his utility belt to pull it out.

Haan… yeh toh interesting hai.

He unfolds the paper. It is a grocery receipt.

Nails. Plastic sheeting. Bleach. Duct tape. Industrial bags.

He looks up, unsettled.

Yeh shopping list nahi hai. Yeh cleanup list hai.

The fluorescent lights BUZZ louder for a beat.

Possible concealed activity. Unusual supply pattern. Repeated deliveries.

He shines the flashlight across the door and adjacent wall. A freshly painted rectangular patch is visible.

Wall recently opened thi.

He steps back, processing the evidence.

Aur phir close ki gayi. Bahar se.

He grips the clipboard tighter.

Main superintendent hoon. Leaks, bulbs, clogged drains — yeh mera kaam hai.

Beat.

Par 7B mein leak nahi, cover-up hai.

He looks at the locked door again.

Tenant weeks se missing nahi… tenant kab ka gayab ho chuka hai.

He writes fast on the clipboard.

Suspected concealed crime scene. Door secured from inside. Evidence of repeated deliveries and cleanup materials. Immediate police response required.

He closes the maintenance log.

Apartment 7B… ab yeh maintenance issue nahi raha.

He stands still in the red spill of the exit sign, listening to the pipes.

Aur jo bhi andar hai… ya tha… ab main uska naam report mein likh raha hoon.

A long, eerie silence.