What a cliche

There were very few jobs in Lindow, so no-one was picky about what jobs were available. You didn’t complain, you didn’t ask questions and you didn’t look too closely at the things that didn’t make sense.

So when I found myself in a darkened factory, snowed in thanks to an unpredicted blizzard I resolved myself to be patient and wait until I was rescued. The factory was on the outskirts of Lindow and canned a variety of different vegetables and fruits from nearby towns. 

During the day it was a hive of activity with people bustling around almost constantly. At night there was a schedule of security guards, like yours truly. Normally I would have at least my coworkers to help me while away the hours but they hadn’t been able to reach the factory before the storm hit.

So it was me, alone, in a dark empty factory with no other companion than my flashlight and an old paperback novel, The Eleven Million Mile High Dancer by Carol Hill. There were a great many old paperback novels stockpiled in one of the unused rooms. I had discovered this room on my first day at the factory before I was told that exploring was dangerous for my health.

I started whistling to myself to break the deep silence. It didn’t help, the strange echoing made me feel like I was surrounded by something. Instead, I decided to start my rounds and explore more of the factory. My place of work was arranged as a large imposing cube with each of the four sides focused on a different kind of canning. 

In the very centre sat the administrative buildings, the offices of the upper management as well as storage and utility rooms. It was in this area which I found the mysterious room of science fiction paperbacks. According to the regulations of my position I made my way around the outside of the factory, slowly working my way in towards the centre.

Some ‘fun facts’ as I go. The factory was built late last century by the richest family in town the Kirwin’s. They were not natives of the area, but they moved across from the old country with mysterious pasts and more mysterious wealth. Previously, the main industry of the area was slate mining before the industry lost its shine. They were met with suspicion and glee, as they rejuvenated the area and brought in much-needed money so people didn’t ask questions and those who did were shunned. 

So when some people disappeared and others were struck by a sudden and unexplained illness no questions were asked. It became something of a tradition to not ask questions but curiosity is a powerful thing, one which I am not immune to. This could be my only opportunity to have my questions answered, and I couldn’t let it pass me by. 

Completely alone and utterly bored I could think of no reason not to explore more of the hidden rooms. The power, and therefore the alarms were off, and there was minimal risk for me. The first room sat down the hallway from the manager’s office, it was locked but something of a misspent youth ensured that that wasn’t much of a barrier. At this point, you must be certain that there was something truly gruesome within this room, a collection of preserved human body parts or a collection of unique and disturbing sex toys.

However, it wasn’t nearly as exciting as all that.

It was, in fact, filled top to bottom in random order loose balls of all kinds. Baseballs, basketballs, golf balls, and several which I didn’t recognise. It was something of an anti-climax, to be honest. It felt like working yourself up for a trip to a theme park or a surprise birthday party, and how those imagined experiences never meet up with reality. 

I kept making my way through the rooms, and in each room, I discovered the following: a collection of historically accurate (but ill-kempt) medieval armour, pressed flowers and pinned insects, stacked blankets and other haberdashery, and lastly the aforementioned science fiction paperbacks. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to these collections. It felt like someone was writing words on a dartboard and them collecting these items based on what words the darts hit. 

It felt like they gathered these items at random, I had no answers simply more questions. There was one last opportunity to have these questions answers. It took me some time before I figured out how to reach the central room. As per city ordinances, the head office of any company can only be accessed through a series of complicated animal-themed puzzle doors and at least one secret passage. 

As a security guard, I was trained to navigate these barriers in case of emergencies. It was a simple but lengthy matter of collecting different keys representing birds of prey and slotting them in the doors in the correct order. The corridor hidden behind a bookshelf was poorly lit, I made a mental note that that was in contravention of current OHS regulations. Then I disregarded that thought as I wasn’t allowed to be here in any case.

Almost as if it was summoned, I heard a distant crack of thunder outside. This town was many things, but to its credit, it was almost always thematically accurate. The pointlessness of this exercise had not escaped me and I wondered why I was making such an effort to assuage my curiosity. 

Boredom and opportunity I suppose.

I could see the central office up ahead, finally, all my questions would be answered. Not just about the strange rooms filled with seemingly random items. But the deeper questions of who the Kirwin family really were, what was happening to my town, the answers to life the universe and everything. 

I pushed my way through the heavy wooden doors and discovered the deep, dark secret. A handsome and well-groomed dog pressing buttons and carefully watching monitors.

Huh, I didn’t expect that…