“I’m supposed to feel like it’s such a great apartment, but I don’t. It’s the right price, there are no bugs and it’s got a great view, but it’s the lair of Satan..”

― A.R. Braun, Horrorbook: twenty-two tales of terror

The rental agent was clear that both apartments were spacious, but unit 512 had an extra room compared to 511. “Just one more,” she said with an odd emphasis, “though some tenants claim they’ve found others.”

I took 511, the slightly smaller unit. The price was better, and I didn’t need the extra space. My neighbor in 512, Dr. Aldrich, was some kind of researcher. I never saw him, but I’d hear him counting rooms late at night, his voice growing more distant with each number.

The first strange thing I noticed was the light under my doorway. Sometimes it would flicker with shadows of feet walking past, even though the hallway ended at my door. Dr. Aldrich’s door was opposite mine, yet the footsteps always continued beyond where the wall should be.

Then came the sounds. Dr. Aldrich’s voice echoing through my vents, listing room numbers far beyond what should fit in his apartment. “Room seventeen… room twenty-three… room forty-nine…” Each number spoke with increasing wonder and desperation.

One morning, I found a journal page slipped under my door. Dr. Aldrich’s handwriting grew increasingly erratic as it described rooms that appeared overnight, doors that hadn’t existed the day before, windows that looked out onto impossible views. The final entry read: “The extra room keeps multiplying. Each new door leads to three more. I’ve been walking for days. Send help if you can find me.”

I called maintenance. They had no record of a Dr. Aldrich ever living in 512. When they opened his apartment, it appeared empty – just the standard layout plus that one extra room. But standing in his doorway, I heard distant footsteps and the faint sound of counting.

Last night, a door appeared in my apartment that shouldn’t be there. Through the keyhole, I saw Dr. Aldrich walking through an endless series of rooms, still counting, his voice hoarse from months of numbering new chambers. He turned and saw me watching. His face was gaunt, his eyes wild.

“Don’t open any new doors,” he called out. “The extra room… it’s breeding. Each one spawns more. I’ve been mapping them for years now, but they keep changing. I’m in room 2,749 now, or maybe it’s 2,750… I lost count somewhere after the first thousand.”

I’ve sealed the mysterious door with concrete, but I can still hear him counting through the walls. Sometimes I wake up to find new doorknobs growing like mushrooms on my walls. The apartment listing now shows 512 as “unlimited square footage, expanding floor plan.”

This morning, I found another door in my closet. It’s calling to me, promising just one extra room. But I know better now. In this building, one extra room is never enough, and some doors should stay closed.

With this map you get:

• grid & gridless variations
• PNG files, low (70 PPI) & high (140 PPI) resolutions
• splatter & abandoned variations
• floor plan
• dd2vtt files for FoundryVTT & Roll20
• High-resolution WebP files

2 Apartments – Day

2 Apartments – Night

2 Apartments – Splatter – Day

2 Apartments – Splatter – Night

2 Apartments – Abandoned – Day

2 Apartments – Abandoned – Night

2 Apartments – Floor plan

2 Apartments – Lobby – Day

2 Apartments – Lobby – Night

2 Apartments – Lobby – Splatter – Day

2 Apartments – Lobby – Splatter – Night

2 Apartments – Lobby – Abandoned – Day

2 Apartments – Lobby – Abandoned – Night