The man was fed up, he didn't even bother hiding his irritation.
"Listen Miss...ehn..."
He was waiting for me to chip in my name but I won't. I give him a blank stare waiting for him to tell me whatever he is about to say. He gets the hint and clears his throat,
"Look. We have questioned everyone there and there is no suspicious activity."
"But you read the note. You saw the blood." My tone is even. I don't bother trying to convince him. The moment he ignored me, pretending not to have heard me yelling his name as he moved towards the Police department with such a rush you'd think his pants were on fire, I knew that I may have to visit NighFey on my own.
"Yes. Forensics came back and it was indeed blood. But accidents happen and that is a factory miss. Could have been a silly prank."
I open my mouth to counter but think better of it and nod, turning on my heels and exiting without so much as a thank you.
Photo by Pavel Danilyuk from Pexels
A week ago, I had purchased - for the first time in decades - a whole pack of my favorite coffee brand. NighFey. Their processing plant was only a few blocks away which made it easier to get it at a wholesale price value.
My stomach lurches when I remember the note that I discovered when my coffee packet tumbled and its content spilled. I was grateful that the powder had been sealed in packets but that feeling quickly dissipated at the note. Crumpled and tainted with strokes of blood, I did not even have a stomach for my morning bliss.
”Help! I have been stuck in this factory for a decade!”
My legs move as my brain tries to catch up. The sun is setting and with every second, the nausea I feel escalates. I hope I don't have a panic attack. I quickly strip my clothes in the comfort of my house and put on far less attractive clothing; baggy jean shorts, a plain looking top that falls a little of my shoulder and crocs, my hair pulled in a ponytail.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I take my flashlight and head out. The walkway leading up to the factory is lonely and the air gets chillier the farther I walk. The shadows of the trees stretch as the sun goes down, a shiver runs down my spine and my mind screams for me turn around and just let it go. I pause but then that note flashes in my memory and out of curiosity - or plain stupidity - I forge on.
The large "Do Not Trespass" sign weaved around the barbed fence looks menacing now that the sun is no where to be the found. The wind whistles, a prickle to my neck makes me turn. The walkway is lonely and dark...
Photo by Juan Pablo Serrano Arenas from Pexels
I walk a little bit around the barbed fence, hoping for a way to climb in and hope to the high heavens that there are no guard dogs. To my surprise - or horror - there is a large opening just as I look down, either cut or...
I drop on all fours and crawl in. My flashlight with me. Contrary to what I believed, the lights in the building are on and from the sound of machinery I hear all the way from here, it is all the tell tale that there are overnight workers.
Carefully I proceed, my eyes and senses on high alert. Loud laughter has me stopping in my tracks. I follow the sound, switching off my flashlight, blending with the shadows.
“Did you see her face? Almost like she couldn’t believe it.” A male says
“I feel bad. That was a stupid prank Leo. What if she decided to push? Oh God! I nearly had a heart attack when the police showed up.”
My ears must be pointing towards the sky because I can feel the blood rushing through them. All my attention zoned on the two in the shadows.
“Olivia. Stop being so scared.”
“I have every reason to. Toby would kill you if he finds out you used his blood from the knife accident to pull this shit.”
“Glad he hasn’t then.” More laughter from the male, “I finally had some action here after decades! We should do this more often.”
“Count me out!” The lady snapped followed by retreating footsteps. The man continues to laugh, his steps receding few moments after hers.
I bristle. It was a prank after all! I should report them but what evidence do I have? I didn’t record and they could just deny it.
Or I can find out more about the knife incident, get testimonies and go to the police… I shake my head. My erratic heart thumping hard against the cage of my flesh. I look towards the dark walkway I have to go through before I get home and I let out a heavy sigh. The police, for once, where not dumb. I think I watch too many thrillers.
Photo by Ketut Subiyanto from Pexels
The first thing I long for the moment I get inside my house, after watching over my shoulders countless times and squealing like a mice at the slightest rustling in the bushes, is a hot cup of coffee and some show. Maybe something romantic this time.
As my kettle whistles, I dial Ramona, my best friend.
“Sup girl!” Her cheery voice is like a balm to my sore soul.
“It was a prank.” I say with controlled breathing.
“What was?”
“The note.”
There’s silence and then, “On my way.”
I sit on the couch nursing my steaming cup wondering if I should switch brands…
