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Authors: Malhar Patel
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in and out to dissipate his jangling nerves.
He lived in an open house, with no doors joining the lower rooms. Slowly walking in to the living room he saw a piece of dirty white paper sitting on the doormat. As he edged forward he could smell something rancid. It got stronger as he closed in on the note, until he was fighting his eyes from watering. On the paper, in a murky red and brown colour, was the message WE KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING. It was written in a vile paste of excrement and blood.
He covered his mouth with one hand and picked up the sheet from the corner using the other. Hurriedly walking across to his study, he yanked at the ivory handle and opened the desk drawer to reveal a heap of other notes. WE KNOW YOUR SECRET, THE TRUTH WILL COME OUT, MURDERER, WE KNOW, and many more. He slipped in the latest to the collection and wiggled the drawer shut with a heavy breath.
The desk had a plush antique style with an ivory finish and it left him with an odd sense of guilt, storing something so disgusting inside something so perfect. Still it made no sense reporting it. It would only draw unwanted attention. Leaving his office, Green headed for the kitchen sink to wash his hands. For today, he would have to cut breakfast short.
The rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain woke up Jack; now resting on Anisha's plush blue sofa. She was in her room and Gina quietly lay on Pete's bed. Looking at the clock across the hallway he gasped as he saw it was almost noon. He had already wasted half of his day. On the other hand, with the last two nights free of sleep, perhaps a lie in this morning was justified.
From the hush it seemed like the girls were also sleeping off their fatigue. He twisted a bit and shuffled down the couch to get more comfortable. His stomach felt hollow and yearned for a good meal. Maybe he'd cook something today, to apologise to Anisha for putting her in this position with Pete.
The pressure seemed to be off him a little today. He hadn't received a suitcase or shoebox or any other creepy messages in the night and for the first time in his vacation - if you could still call it that - he seemed to have some control over what was going on. He had some sort of a game plan and it felt like he understood properly what was at stake.
Concluding that sleep was a lost cause, he stretched and took in a long yawn. With the minimum of effort, Jack hauled himself off the couch. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes to clear up his vision. His body was athletic and well toned but right now it felt tired and beaten. Walking across the room to where his jacket lay slumped, he pulled out the small booklet on using a knife, and wandered into the kitchen to get one.
The floor was covered in linoleum, patterned to match the wood grain of the rest of the flooring. Searching the drawers slowly to make the minimum of noise, he finally found one and tiptoed back to the living room. Checking to see that no one was around, he began to read the booklet, and at the same time practise.
Kim's bloodshot eyes softly focused on the huge queue for the coffee machine. Everyone in the lab looked like the living dead. She shuffled into line, not too happy at having to spend her lunch break waiting for coffee when she could be draped on a couch in the staff lounge. But she, like half the lab, desperately needed the caffeine.
All of a sudden, even though she couldn't see anything, she sensed someone behind her. She could feel their body heat radiating as they slowly crept up. What if Adam had blabbed about their conversation? It could be her bosses telling her she's fired, or worse…. terminated. She gulped and took a deep breath, but remained anxious. Out of nowhere she felt a sharp stab at her left shoulder.
Almost yelping out, she just managed to contain herself and jerked around by reflex.
“Hey Kim. Great night yesterday.” She let out a slow, relieved breath.
“Yeah Imran, it was fun. Today's not so great though.”
He
He lived in an open house, with no doors joining the lower rooms. Slowly walking in to the living room he saw a piece of dirty white paper sitting on the doormat. As he edged forward he could smell something rancid. It got stronger as he closed in on the note, until he was fighting his eyes from watering. On the paper, in a murky red and brown colour, was the message WE KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING. It was written in a vile paste of excrement and blood.
He covered his mouth with one hand and picked up the sheet from the corner using the other. Hurriedly walking across to his study, he yanked at the ivory handle and opened the desk drawer to reveal a heap of other notes. WE KNOW YOUR SECRET, THE TRUTH WILL COME OUT, MURDERER, WE KNOW, and many more. He slipped in the latest to the collection and wiggled the drawer shut with a heavy breath.
The desk had a plush antique style with an ivory finish and it left him with an odd sense of guilt, storing something so disgusting inside something so perfect. Still it made no sense reporting it. It would only draw unwanted attention. Leaving his office, Green headed for the kitchen sink to wash his hands. For today, he would have to cut breakfast short.
The rhythmic pitter-patter of the rain woke up Jack; now resting on Anisha's plush blue sofa. She was in her room and Gina quietly lay on Pete's bed. Looking at the clock across the hallway he gasped as he saw it was almost noon. He had already wasted half of his day. On the other hand, with the last two nights free of sleep, perhaps a lie in this morning was justified.
From the hush it seemed like the girls were also sleeping off their fatigue. He twisted a bit and shuffled down the couch to get more comfortable. His stomach felt hollow and yearned for a good meal. Maybe he'd cook something today, to apologise to Anisha for putting her in this position with Pete.
The pressure seemed to be off him a little today. He hadn't received a suitcase or shoebox or any other creepy messages in the night and for the first time in his vacation - if you could still call it that - he seemed to have some control over what was going on. He had some sort of a game plan and it felt like he understood properly what was at stake.
Concluding that sleep was a lost cause, he stretched and took in a long yawn. With the minimum of effort, Jack hauled himself off the couch. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes to clear up his vision. His body was athletic and well toned but right now it felt tired and beaten. Walking across the room to where his jacket lay slumped, he pulled out the small booklet on using a knife, and wandered into the kitchen to get one.
The floor was covered in linoleum, patterned to match the wood grain of the rest of the flooring. Searching the drawers slowly to make the minimum of noise, he finally found one and tiptoed back to the living room. Checking to see that no one was around, he began to read the booklet, and at the same time practise.
Kim's bloodshot eyes softly focused on the huge queue for the coffee machine. Everyone in the lab looked like the living dead. She shuffled into line, not too happy at having to spend her lunch break waiting for coffee when she could be draped on a couch in the staff lounge. But she, like half the lab, desperately needed the caffeine.
All of a sudden, even though she couldn't see anything, she sensed someone behind her. She could feel their body heat radiating as they slowly crept up. What if Adam had blabbed about their conversation? It could be her bosses telling her she's fired, or worse…. terminated. She gulped and took a deep breath, but remained anxious. Out of nowhere she felt a sharp stab at her left shoulder.
Almost yelping out, she just managed to contain herself and jerked around by reflex.
“Hey Kim. Great night yesterday.” She let out a slow, relieved breath.
“Yeah Imran, it was fun. Today's not so great though.”
He
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