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Urban Fantasy Suspense Horror

At first it seemed normal. The job posting had been in the newspaper for a few weeks by the time I picked up the phone, and the man who answered had done a great job at sounding like the average uninterested boss interviewing someone he wasn’t going to call back.

Even after my first few days I thought it was fine, until I noticed the shuffling of feet behind me late one night. I ran, I’m not ashamed to say, and convinced myself that I was just spooked by the quiet darkness that I was growing to expect at the end of my shift.

When I closed the apartment door behind me, my breath heavy and loud, I realized I didn’t remember what I had done that day. Or any day I had gone into work, really.

I know the job was advertised as ‘customer service,’ a normal retail job that mostly amounted to standing and waiting. I know the man who answered the phone and interviewed me met me on the first day, and I know I signed a few papers before I left, but the rest of my work for the last week has eluded me entirely.

I’ve had days like that before at other jobs of course, my lack of focus the main reason I had to go to newspapers and job boards to make a living, but something was starting to feel existentially wrong in a way that was keeping me up at night as I tried to explain it to myself.

The day I ran home, the day there definitely weren’t shuffling noises coming from behind me as I made my way home, I told myself it was over. A low level replaceable job is just that, and I had enough scraps left in my savings to cut and run until I found my next paycheck. I was going to forget about the confusion and the answers I was missing and go about my life, but I soon found out that wasn’t a choice I was allowed to make anymore.

“Don’t… Don’t tell anyone.” I came to in the dingy break room at the back of the store, my own voice reaching my ears as I stood in front of the open door to the store I was supposed to be in charge of. Two teenagers were screaming in the way only two teenagers can, booking their way out of the store and across lanes of traffic as they pelted away from me.

The confusion took a long time to settle. The last thing I remembered was telling myself I wasn’t going to come back here before falling asleep. Did I even eat breakfast? What had I been doing for the last day?

My hands contracted painfully, my fingernails digging into my palms, much sharper than I remembered them being. The muscles relaxed before I could draw blood, but the shock and sudden pulse of adrenaline woke me up just enough to remember something.

Annoyingly I had no idea what that something was. One of those thoughts that come into your head so incredibly clearly only to instantly slip away, leaving you with a hollow sense of loss for the next few minutes. I looked down at my palms to see thick scars from wounds I didn’t remember receiving. Around the scars were new but already aged wrinkles and years of wear, my skin suddenly papery and soft in a way that scared me.

My face crumpled in that moment, and then my legs, and I had to catch myself on the open door frame in front of me to stop my aching knees from dropping me to the floor. My gaze fell to my chest, and I saw a streak of blood at the edges of a tear down the center of a knit sweater I didn’t recognize. More somethings flashed into my mind, distracting me from the questions I didn’t have answers to.

I was starting to remember some of them, old happy memories of helping my mom, no, my… The thoughts were always gone when I finally found them, but they were all dark, musty, and cold. A few rushes of trees, shovels, and midnight rainstorms flashed into my memory, all overshadowed by a sense of joy and contentment that faded just as fast as the memories themselves.

Some candy bars lay on the floor, knocked from their shelves as the teenagers had run from the store screaming, and I wandered over to pick them up out of habit. Not a habit I remembered habituating mind you, but the pain in my back made it clear I had done far too much bending over to pick up after other people over the years.

As I stood back up my mind shifted away from me again, just briefly this time.

I was standing next to the counter now, my head thick and fuzzy as I recovered from whatever had just taken over me. With both of my hands on the counter I closed my eyes, breathing heavily for a few moments as I tried to retrace my life.

Everything I’ve told you here is what I remember.

Realizing that sent me into a painful spiral of panic and loss that cut itself off before it began. I was willing it to happen almost, hoping for a euphoric outpouring of emotion to overtake my pure confusion and fear, but it waned quickly. I opened my eyes again, breathing deeply as the calm, confusing world came back to me. There was a note on the counter between my hands.

Had it been there before? Did I look at the counter before I closed my eyes? I didn’t remember, and I was sure that nobody had come in while I stood silent in contemplative fear, but it was there now. I squinted at it, habitually adjusting glasses I didn’t know I was wearing until that moment.

“It seems it’s time for our final meeting, old friend.” The note said, accompanied only by a squiggled signature in red ink.

Some time later I came to yet again. My feet were leading me down a crunching gravel road, and I heard the whistling of distant wind coming through the pine trees on either side of me. A rush of flapping and squeaking startled me, but was soon followed by a strange sense of elation and joy as a second set of footsteps crunched onto the gravel behind me.

I had to stop, bending down on one knee and looking at the ground.

“Sire.” I heard my withered and poorly aged voice creak from the back of my throat. I didn’t know why I said that, and the questions that kept slipping my mind didn’t stay around long enough for me to say anything else.

“Please, this isn’t necessary, I’m sorry It’s been so long.” His voice was deep and smooth, and it felt good to hear it again after decades of service. Decades? The thought slipped from my mind again as I felt his hand wrap around my incredibly skinny arm, helping me rise on shaking legs.

“Sire, where…” The question caught in my throat as I realized I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say next. “Where did you go?”

I wasn't sure where that came from, but it felt right.

He put both of his hands on my shoulders and smiled sweetly, looking down from his towering height above me. Clouds shifted and dappled his pale face with moonlight for a moment, and another wash of pleasant calm swept over me.

“Thank you.” He said, and he was being sincere. The compliment poured warmth into my body as he pulled me in for a tight hug. “For everything.”

A sharp pain stabbed into the side of my neck, followed quickly by a greater sense of comfort and hope than I’d ever felt. Every muscle in my body relaxed, and I sighed with nothing but happiness as the world around me faded.

“Goodbye old friend.” Was the last thing I heard, and I drifted off into the darkness happier and more content than I had ever been before.

October 23, 2024 05:29

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1 comment

Jennifer Addison
21:05 Nov 03, 2024

What an EERIE glimpse of a mind slipping away bit by bit. Without further indication that fantastical forces are a work, it tells like what I imagine the descent into dementia must feel like. There were a few spots where I felt like a bit more transition could be helpful (for example, from the first paragraph to the second- it took a minute to understand the protagonist actually got the job, and of course I didn't yet know what kind of holes were lurking in their memory). Same with the introduction of the teenagers- were they robbing the st...

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