Hours later...

The police were dispatched to Charlotte's building on the night of October 31st.

Her last call had been to her friend, Loisa, who had reached out to check if she was alright. The horrifying scream that echoed in her ear—Charlotte's final, blood-curdling yell—was enough to send Loisa into a panic, prompting her to call the authorities for help.

The officers forced the door open, the hinges creaking under pressure. Neighbors gathered outside, their curious eyes peering into the dimly lit corridor.

Inside, the apartment was eerily vacant, as if no one had ever lived there.

The only object that remained was a bag of purple metallic material, emblazoned with a coffee logo, its presence almost mocking in the silence. It exuded a rich, intoxicating aroma of the finest coffee beans.

No one could explain what had happened that day. The bag was eventually taken to an antique horror museum after spending months in the evidence locker, part of a case that faded from everyone's memory, just as swiftly as Charlotte herself.

The end.