 Everyone has to start somewhere. And my dream of a high rise city center lifestyle begins here. My new apartment is second floor, not penthouse. The park I look out over is popular with people who like to start their day sharing a bottle of fortified wine rather than one populated by beautiful joggers and my commute into the center is a 20 minute walk and then two hours on the subway. Or it would be if I had the up and coming executive job I'm trying for. Like I say though, early days, I was still unpacking my possessions, a bunch of old DVDs and deciding which I would rewatch first when the power went. I sighed, put the three DVDs I was holding where I hoped the table was. It was well into November and though not late, dust could fall in an hour ago. My eyes slowly adjusting to the dark, I made my way over to the window. A new bottle was being passed around by the light of the park's single rusty street lamp. So, just me then, and maybe my fellow tenants in the apartment block were affected. I started to hunt around in my collection of boxes for the camping torch that my ever practical father had insisted I take with me to the big city. Last time we spoke, I'd apologize for laughing at this idea. I didn't find the torch before the power came back on and I'd return to considering my home entertainment choices, probably a horror movie. I love a classic Fright Fest when someone knocked on the door. I was new enough to the urban lifestyle to automatically just open the door rather than looking through the spyhole first. I didn't even have the chain on. It was the building supervisor. I'd met him once before when I moved in and collected my keys and I heard his TV when I walked past the ground floor apartment from where he oversaw his shabby kingdom. He wore blue stained overalls and had only two teeth, I think. One in the center of his top gum, one directly below in the bottom gum. When I'd picked my keys up, I'd asked him. I couldn't help myself how he'd ended up with just the two teeth. He had replied that when they took his teeth out, the only treatment he could afford to stop the constant pain caused by long neglect. He asked them to leave that pair so he could chew food as it was meant to be chewed. Fair enough. Now, I stood in my doorway and listened as he asked me if I was growing marijuana. He pronounced it Marge-I-Rama, but I got the drift. I assured him I was not. The one time I tried a joint, I vomited straight away, so no, not me. He was, it turned out, convinced one of the tenants in the block had a Marge-I-Rama farm in their apartment and it was the heating and lights for this that had caused the power outage. Turns out, this was not the first time the power had gone and he had well and truly had enough, was going to knock on every damn door in the place if he had to. I wished him luck in finding out who the culprit was and that I thought was that. The next morning I just stepped out of my apartment when I saw a man at the end of the corridor. He seemed distressed and I saw why. It looked like he dropped his keys and wasn't able to reach them. One of the reasons I left my small town for a city was so my business was my own, but I was not and I hope I never will be. The type of person who doesn't try and be helpful. I called out a friendly greeting and headed over. The man looked to be in his late fifties and was holding his lower back. I've never suffered from a bad back, but understand how restricting it can be. I bent down and picked the keys up. I could see now that the door was open and I figured he was heading out like me and must have dropped them while he was locking up. I held the keys out to him and as I did so I saw through the open door a human head in a clear jar shaped container. It was so unexpected, so out of place that I just stood there dumbly until he asked me to give him a chance to explain. It's a fake, I thought, a prop for a horror movie. Perhaps he was a fan of them like me and had bought it. That would be it, something like that. Sure then, why not? I followed him into the apartment. There were a dozen jars each holding a head. The surfaces of the containers were streaked with dirt and the heads were floating in a liquid with a grayish tint. Running from the base of each were cables that connected into a metal box which took up one wall. An electronic hum filled the room, which explained the power outages I guessed, but that was all. I stared open mouth while he told me. He told me he'd worked at a facility that had been founded back in the 50s. It was devoted to a thing called cryogenics which had been all the rage. When death was on the immediate horizon, the rich were getting their bodies frozen in the belief that in the future, advances in medical science would enable them to be brought round and live extended, enhanced lives. Some only chose to have their heads preserved. A bit of whole body regeneration would surely be a piece of cake for those geniuses of the next millennium. His facility specialized in these. But there had been no new clients for years when he started work in the 80s. He was there simply to maintain and he did so with great pride and care until the facility was sold for land for a retail development. To his horror, he was told the heads would be disposed of. It was all about the economics. So one night, he took it on himself to move them out to save them. He installed them here, putting his back out in the process. His tail finished. He fixed me with his gaze. Told me I would be betraying not just him, but them as well. I looked around at the containers. There were the remains of men and women. Their expressions were serene. I felt a mix of fear and heartbreak. He was driven by a sense of loyalty, but driven too far. There was a sickly sweet smell in the room. And I began to notice swarms of tiny black flies around the edges of the containers. He needed medical help, compassion, I decided. And I was getting ready to back out of the room and phone 911 when I noticed a new container. It sat in a corner. Its surface was clean and there inside was a freshly severed head. Its two yellowed teeth exposed in a rictus grin.