He wasn't in his apartment. He was in the carriage from the recording.
Elias hit play. At first, there was only the rhythmic clack-clack of a subway car moving at high speed. Then, a low, wet breathing started right next to the microphone. Train Molester.m4a - Google Drive
The door at the end of the car creaked open. Something tall, draped in a conductor’s uniform that hung off a frame of rusted rebar and wire, stepped into the light. It didn't have a face—just a speaker grill where a mouth should be. He wasn't in his apartment
He pressed play again. The sound of the train shifted. The mechanical grinding turned into a sound like teeth gnashing against bone. The "breather" began to sob, but the sobs turned into a rhythmic, mechanical whistle. At first, there was only the rhythmic clack-clack