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Fiction Mystery Suspense

This story contains sensitive content

TW : Language

    It’s hard to focus, you’re tired, exhausted. You took the night shift security job expecting action and instead you’re set behind a desk forced to watch camera feeds. But at least you’re working for Laboratory Zhukov, so your paycheck is really the only incentive you have. The night is quiet, like it always is, as you watch scientists leave the facility slowly. Your night started at 10:00 PM and the main staff from the thirty-second to the twenty-fourth floor are all cleared out. You watch as the scientists leave, and cleaning staff make way. The slight shimmer and hum of the screens lull you as you watch. Droning, mechanical hums that ease you into a sense of boredom. You can switch cameras, and your boss makes sure you do. You can change feed for all monitors at once to the next series on that floor, or individually to a different one for each of the cameras.

    Ten minutes passes, and it's time to switch camera feeds. You set the series to change at once, and it switches to the front entrance of floor one. Large lobby made of marble, the camera is clearly above the front door so it’s hard to see if anyone enters. You see the receptionist desk, at least it’s in a dull, monochrome color, but it is hard to discern the details. It is a brown wood desk, sure, but you cannot make out the grain. You couldn’t even make out the marble’s distinct lines as being these geometric patterns from the geology of the rock. It just looks like a blurry black mess, like someone spilled tar on pristine white tiles, and even you don’t think the marble is pristine. 

    However, something catches your eye, someone, two people actually, enter the building. You watch, strange that two people would come in this late. One of them was wearing a black hoodie with khakis, the hood up, hiding their face. They were fairly tall, you take note, about five-foot nine maybe five-ten. Slender but you could tell they might be built or muscular, an athletic build is your best guess. Brown combat boots with a black backpack with gray accents. The other person is no older than twenty, but could be younger. Clearly energetic, moving and jittery, they’re short, and thin. Purple puffer jacket, jeans, and a black long sleeve shirt. Red hair, pale white skin, almost white like a corpse with just a little life in it. Maybe the wife of a scientist and his daughter, good enough guess, and so you decide to switch to another camera, watching as the CRTVs go to static before switching pictures. 

    You’re getting another view, but manually switch the first of the forty cameras back to the lobby in floor 1. However, to your dismay, the people who entered are gone. You’re curious now, and you lean back from your chair and put aside the bag of chips you were aimlessly munching on like a pig in a feed trough. Curiosity doesn’t hurt in this line of work, though you know the saying too damn well. So you flip through the first floor cameras. Camera Two shows the narrow hallway next to the janitor’s closet on the first floor lobby. Nothing, no one. You look at the offices and the windows, looking for reflections, but you only see staff. Some of them walk around, papers in hand, but they seem to be alert, scared even. Frightened and yet forced to work. You think to yourself, should you radio it in? They are acting strange. 

    So you get your radio, do what you’re supposed to do and radio your boss. 

“Yeah, the scientists on Floor One, Room 23A are acting strange?” You tell your boss as you keep watching, watching as they move around aimlessly, and you swear you see something moving around in the room with them. But dammit it is so hard to tell with the blurry screen and the lack of detail.

“What do you mean ‘strange’?” You get asked. You sigh, and keep watching.

“They’re moving around and they look like they’re scared but they’re still working.” 

“Eh, Zhukov might’ve threatened them if they left early. You know how he is with deadlines.” And your boss hangs up. You cuff your face in your hands in utter frustration. You look up, and they seem normal, like nothing was wrong. 

    You switch the series of cameras again, hoping to find that woman. You really wish the receptionist didn’t leave early, but you know there are guards who can help and so you decide to radio them.

“Hey, Charles, man, did you see two women come in?” You say firmly on channel 89, waiting.

“Nope. Why you ask?” 

“I saw two women walk in on Camera One and I'm not sure where they are.” You listen in, keep switching cameras while keeping Camera 1 on those scientists.

“Two women? Nah. Just stopped by Room 23A because the big man asked to check on the scientists, not seeing anything wrong. You said they were acting funny? I a’int seein’ it man.” 

    Not the response you want to hear. 

“Okay. I guess I’m just tired.”

“Being tired gets you fired from this job. Remember that.” You look back up to the screen, to Camera One, and notice that Charles isn’t on the feed.

“Hey Charles, can you move in front of the camera?” You ask rather politely.

“Pft? What kinda stupid question is that? Get back to work and stop bullshitting around.” You lean back in frustration, utter defeat almost. But this is how the job goes. Some people blow smoke up your ass, some people are good to you. 

    The camera’s do sort of show Zhukov’s executive floor, but no one has access to that floor. Only Zhukov and the two heads of security who are out on the floor, somewhere in this maze of a complex.

“Hey, buddy, you still awake?” You hear a woman say over the radio.

“Yeah, who is this?” You ask, a bit confused. There are a couple female security guards, so you don’t pay much mind to it.

“Looks like floors twenty-four down to twenty are leaving for the night. Just giving you a heads-up.” 

“Ten-four. You gonna do a sweep?” You ask.

“Yeah, I’ll sweep it, letcha know if anything is out of the ordinary.”

    So you switch over cameras two through twelve to different cameras on floors twenty-four through twenty, four for each floor, watching carefully. You see a female guard patrolling, but she looks familiar, something about her strikes your curiosity. You decide to not mind it, thinking it is an old fling from college. You keep watching the feeds and swear you see something moving on camera one. But as you look, the scientists are gone, no one is there, no one is walking around the room, and you swear on God’s name you see a bat hanging from the ceiling.

“Charles? You there?” You say as you tune your radio to Channel 89. Nothing, you get nothing, you hear nothing. 

    And yet subtly, as-if your mind is being manipulated, you pass it off, let it slide. It hits you though, hits you hard, but you have no desire to radio anyone. You barely even think about it, almost feeling guilty you thought that you’re being manipulated. This is reality, mind readers and telepaths don’t exist. But you’re curious about what a bat is doing here. Charles might be on break, his shift started at five and it is almost ten, and he only works a ten hour shift. You let it go, not too worried. You switch the feed again, and catch sight of the two women in the warehouse section, floor one still. You decide to watch what they do, observing as they move into the warehouse silently. They’re clearly avoiding the camera, and as they move between isles hiding them, you decide to radio Charlotte who works in the warehouse as security. So you tune your radio to Channel 23 and wait.

“You Cherry, you there?” You say waiting.

“Yeah I’m here, what is going on?” She says back.

“There are two women who entered the warehouse and they’re avoiding the camera. Just keep your eyes peeled. I saw them enter the facility.” 

“Ten-four.” Charlotte replies and your radio goes off, with you watching as two women, clearly not the same ones from before, dressed as scientists with completely different builds and hair, approach one of the shelves with an inventory gun.

    Frustrated, you grab the bag of chips that you were munching on and lean back, decide to relax. Maybe you’re pumped up, agitated. You’re not sure why you are, but maybe that is the reason. Should you even be worrying? You’re busy, you work all time, maybe things are just getting to you. So the monotony continues. You switch cameras, you watch, and you barely see anything change. You’re radioed that the remaining floors are cleared, and you watch those women walk out the warehouse, but oddly enough, there is a bat in the room. You see Charlotte step out of the control booth towards a series of large sliding doors in the rear of the room, looking up at the bat fluttering around. The bat flies directly towards Charlotte and she just stops in her tracks, and decides to leave. 

You immediately tune into Channel 23 and attempt to reach her. However, she doesn’t respond.

“Cherry? What is going on?” 

    You start thinking, thoughts racing. You grab your radio again and tune it to channel 89. 

“Charles! Are you there?” Nearly an hour has been by and he isn’t back, nor responding. And again, that feeling rushes over you, pacifies you, and you just let it be. Charlotte is going to lunch, and Charles is sick. That is the only thing that could be going on. And as your eyes focus on camera number one, you decide it is time to switch the feeds. So you switch over, paying attention to the main laboratory feeds on floor Thirteen through Fifteen. And there you see those two women again. Wandering through with a flashlight, but on this feed, you can see that clearly one of them is wearing a gas mask, and your suspicions on the other are true, she looks no more than sixteen. 

    And as you are startled, rushing to your radio, watching as the women remark on the camera you hear something beating in the air vent. You grab your gun, make sure it is loaded, and point it upwards.

“Who the fuck is there!” You shout out brazen and embolden, as-if your body has been rocked by fear. You twitch, you get jittery, you sweat, and you begin to panic as your heart begins to beat louder and louder, almost bursting from your chest. The vent flies open, and you watch as a creature comes crawling out of it, nearly nine foot tall, almost touching the ceiling, made of fur with four large eyes and four legs, and four arms. An almost arachnid-like beast with massive fangs oozing venom as it lunges at you, enveloping you in its arms as you collapse onto the ground screaming in agony as pain shoots through your body as your eyes shut and you fade to black. 

    You wake up. Puking your guts out, still terrified as the room is dark, only lit up by the cameras. You hear the door open, and you raise your gun and fire three shots! You hear someone familar shout, “Dammit! What the fuck!” As you panic, breathing heavily, feeling your body grow weak.

“Stay away from me! There…something….monster from…labs….something escaped the labs….monsters….fucking…spiders….giant…monsters….stay away!” You shout as your chest aches from your breathing.

“It is me, James! What is going on? What happened to you, Charles, and Charlotte? Boss, he ain’t fine, he is like the others!” You hear, setting your gun down and curling up. Images of that beast flash in your head as you shake your head in negation, frustrated.

“There is no God. What was that thing! It…it…” Your mouth is sour, acrid from the vomit. Your lungs hurt from your breathing, and your heart was bursting as it beat harder and harder.

“It a’int a monster you damn idiot!” Your boss shouts at you, grabbing you by your collar and tossing you to your seat. 

“It’s a bat.” 

    You watch the feed from your room, your tiny little security office. Watching as you panic at what was going on in the warehouse, you turn to the vents when nothing was there, your gun pointed at nothing. As you scream, panic, sweat and feel the fear of a man confronting the wrath of God, a bat throws the vent out, hovers in front of you, until you pass out. 

“Just like Charlotte and Charles.” James says to your boss.

“The fuck happened here?” You ask, wanting to throw up.

“Someone broke in, took some metal ingots Zhukov acquired. All samples were stolen, the scientists from lab 23A are still recovering but said that a woman in a checkered red shirt removed a backpack and a bat flew out, and they immediately began having nightmares. But one of them distinctly remembers the bat turning into what appeared to be a fifteen-year old girl. Could be a hallucination though, we’re still not sure of their claims. Now, get your ass to the medical lab at once!” 

    James and another guard grab hold of you, holding you up as you limp out of the office, seeing as Zhukov himself, his old, crooked self, stands there embittered. 

“You had one job, and you failed it.” He said in a sly tone as he walked into the room, his arms behind his geriatric back as he told your boss to review the footage.

“Don’t take it personal, he is on Charlotte and Charles ass and they've been here longer than you. Charlotte joined when she was only twenty, and she’s got three kids and a mortgage now.” 

“The fuck happened?” You mutter in frustration.

“What just happened?” You say again as the light fades from you and you black out once more.

October 08, 2023 20:09

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2 comments

Rose Lind
03:25 Oct 19, 2023

Written to Prompt. You caught me in.

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Vladimir 4757
18:46 Oct 20, 2023

Thanks! I appreciate it!

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