0 comments

Creative Nonfiction Horror Mystery

Dave held the remote control and turned the volume up

Way past the normal threshold of human tolerance.

“We are experiencing a white-out and severe blizzard conditions

 across the viewing area. Please be advised...don’t venture out

 at this time.” The weather man reminded me of an oversized Ralphie

 from a Christmas Story, all bundled up, and barely able to stand,

 let alone walk unassisted. 

 “That’s that. We’re not going anywhere for the next couple of hours. Don’t worry, though. There’s plenty of food and water in the fridge.” Dave exclaimed. No one seemed thrilled. There were day old deli sandwiches, potato chips, fruit salad, pasta salad, and mystery dessert squares. Dave pushed his glasses up on his face and ran his fingers through his rust colored hair. He stood about 6 feet tall, and was unassuming, someone you could easily forget.

Dave was not a bad guy. No one ever thought he would be promoted to office manager. He and leadership seemed innately opposed to one another.

He was typically uninterested, unbothered, unexcited about anything that happened

in our department. What was it David did, no one could ever say with any certainty.

He seemed to always be there. He was the first to arrive and the last to leave, day in and day out. Whatever he lacked in zeal, he made up for it in dedication.

No one was hungry, at least not at the moment. Kim and Mark started making calls to

their significant others, who we all assumed were safe at home with the kids. Kim and two boys. Mark had a three year old girl and new born baby boy. Lizzie and I looked at each other and shrugged. Lizzie had an olive brown complexion. She kept her black tufts of thick hair cut in a modern bob that framed her round face. She was tall for a lady and quite curvy, then. And yes, she had been single for a while. Neither of us had anyone to call. It 

may sound strange, but I always wondered how it would feel to have someone at home waiting for me, concerned about me, asking where I am, and when I am going to be home, maybe even preparing a hot meal, like spaghetti & meatballs, greens beans, and garlic bread. “I’ll keep your plate warm.” She would say. Whoever “She” is.

“Hey.” Lizzie whispered. “We should...you know...”. She and I made sure Dave and the others were busy. Dave was enthralled with watching “Ralphie” explain the horrible conditions for the umpteenth time. Kim and Mark were on their phones. Lizzie and I snuck off to the one spot on our floor we gravitated towards, the Off Limits Room. The room remained locked at all times and read “No One Is Allowed Beyond This Point.” We walked down the hallway, turned left, scurried past the board room, and stood on either side of the door. Lizzie held up her hands, as if holding a government issued fire arm, turned her head to look both ways, and motioned for me to proceed with caution. She was the quirkiest and yet the cutest thing. I pulled out my old Costco card and held it up. With the flick of my wrist, and a couple of slight nudges, we were inside the O. L. R. 

The darkness surrounded us. I held up my cell phone, as a beacon. The room was extremely clean, as far as we could tell. There were no Cobb webs, no old dusty files, no tattered employee manuals. A couple of mahogany desks sat on the left side of the room and one mid-sized vault was stuck in the corner on the right side of the room. “I bet there is a stack of cash, bonds, and jewels in the vault,” I said. “No. No. No. I am guessing there are a stack of highly personal, personnel files, that include all of our information, dating back to our sketchy stint in Kindergarten and elementary school.” Lizzie chuckled. “Let’s open it!” Why on earth did I say that? This could be a fireable offense. No a state penitentiary offense, but I didn’t want my apprehension to ooze out. I stoically thought of every possible combination known to man. Lizzie looked up at the ceiling. When she was really deep in thought she stared upward and put her right hand on the back of her neck. “What about the year the company was founded, 01/18/74?” Lizzie asked. I cracked my fingers and punched in the numbers, slowly, carefully. We both looked at each other with our mouths wide open. It clicked. It clicked! “Let me do the honors,” Lizzie smiled. She cracked the vault door open. The old door moaned. We soon realized, it wasn’t the door that moaned. I shined my cell phone light inside the darkness of the vault. Tiny feet curled, inching away from the light. The small, pale figure sat huddled in the back. Her arms tightened around her legs. She peaked one clear brown eye out from her lap. “Oh my God!” Lizzie gasped.

I had no words, no words at all. I just fell back, as I covered my mouth. “What the hell is this?” Lizzie searched my eyes. She got down on all fours and spoke softly.

“It’s okay sweetheart. You can come out.” The girl buried her head back into her lap and wrapped her arms around herself. “What are we going to do? We can’t parade her out there for them to see. We don’t know who put her here. Let’s call the police.” I said firmly. I dialed 9-1-1. There was no service. I stepped outside of the room, while Lizzie continued to try to coax the girl out of the vault. 

My call to 9-1-1 finally went through!

“What seems to be your emergency, sir?” The operator said in her monotone voice.

I looked up to find Dave barreling down the hall towards me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing Mike?!” Dave boomed. “Close the door and lock it behind you, Lizzie!” I screamed to the top of my lungs. The door slammed shut. I ran down the hall and down the first flight of stairs. Dave’s steps grew louder and louder. I quickly decided to go down to the third floor, HR. A few people sat at their stations, their backs turned to me. I quietly made my way to the supply closet, locked the door behind me, and waited...

January 18, 2021 18:10

You must sign up or log in to submit a comment.

0 comments

RBE | Illustrated Short Stories | 2024-06

Bring your short stories to life

Fuse character, story, and conflict with tools in Reedsy Studio. 100% free.