[Ongoing] A collection of unsettling or unusual short stories. Some have monsters, some have humor, some draw tears, some make you think, and some have artwork. Each is a revealing glance of someone's life.
Every writer has their own methods of comi...
I'm afraid I may've done something horrible last night.
I really needed a job, and a fancy student residence really needed a new night guard after theirs died of old age, so I applied and was hired right away. The previous guy had worked there since the residence first opened fifty years ago and I was afraid management wouldn't be welcoming, but everyone was super nice as they showed me around.
My first day was yesterday and everything seemed easy enough at first. All I had to do was patrol the ten floors from 9pm until 6am and make sure the students were okay and weren't setting the shared kitchen on fire or breaking any rules.
I'd decided to organize my rounds every hour, starting from the top and making my way down, and at 9pm, I adjusted my uniform, took a deep breath, and made my way to the tenth floor. A few students in the hall welcomed me, and I smiled as I introduced myself. They told me the previous guy, Mac, was cool and they hoped I'd be cool too, and I offered my condolences and said I'd try to live up to his legacy.
I made my way down each floor, meeting the students and checking off my tasks, and I was pleased by how polite and relatively behaved everyone was. My 10 and 11pm rounds were just as pleasant, but then midnight rolled around.
At 12am, I made my way to the tenth floor again, and I frowned. Every dorm door was propped open with a desk chair, and any students not loitering outside their rooms were sitting on those chairs with their books and notes on their laps, studying right there facing the hall.
They chuckled at my confusion and told me it was tradition at this residence to keep the doors wide open from midnight until 3am. It was weird, but student traditions usually were so I chuckled along and didn't really think much of it at the time.
I made my way down, and when I got to the second floor (the first with dorm rooms), I did a double take when I saw a kitchen chair propping the fire escape door open, and right on top of the chair was a lit table lamp.
I stood there dumbfounded for a few seconds because nothing made sense. Blocking the fire escape was dangerous and against the rules! At first, I thought perhaps someone was carrying something with two hands and needed the door propped open, but why the lamp? Why was it even plugged in? The fire escape was brighter than the halls and the wire was a tripping hazard!
After taking a picture to show the manager in the morning, I looked up the stairs to the third floor and down the stairs to the back alley. There was no one there so I turned towards the hall, and a brunette in the room across the fire escape was looking at me. She was studying in front of her open door but she looked nervous.
I asked if she knew who blocked the fire escape, and she just blinked in silence. I asked again, and her roommate showed up and glared at me like I was bothering them. I asked her if she knew who blocked the fire escape and she pointed to herself and narrowed her eyes like she was challenging me.
I couldn't believe it! That was a fire hazard all students should be aware of! It was residence rules! I asked her why she did it and she stared at me like I was a moron who didn't know anything. I asked again but she wouldn't reply and it frustrated me. I yelled that I was responsible for the building's safety and that I was going to tell the manager everything tomorrow.
The brunette got tears in her eyes but her roommate kept glaring and waved her hand like she was cleaning a table or something. A few other students walked over and told me to mind my own business, and I said this building's safety was my damned business.
More students surrounded us and some even came from other floors to see what was going on. They all told me that this was part of the tradition and that I should turn a blind eye like Mac used to, and I told them he was a bad guard if he let them get away with dangerous behavior like this.
That really upset them and they raised their voices, calling me a stuffy old coot who wasn't cool, and I told them I was super cool with anything that didn't cross the line into danger. You don't block fire escapes!
They said it'd always been like this ever since the residence opened and nothing bad had ever happened. Everyone just had to keep their doors open and the person in the room across the second floor fire escape had to set up the chair and lamp every day from midnight until 3am.
I asked who started this tradition, and no one knew. I asked what would happen if they didn't follow the tradition, and no one knew. I told them nothing would happen, that's what.
The brunette's roommate went back inside the room in a huff, and the brunette started crying as she begged me to let them continue the tradition because she was afraid. I told her nothing was going to happen because I was right there to make sure they were all safe.
I reached for the lamp, and I gasped as the students began pulling me away. They were physically restraining me! I began to yell as I struggled against them, and in the commotion I knocked over the lamp, its bulb shattering on the floor.
The students cursed as they pulled me away, angry but definitely not afraid. At least, not until the brunette collapsed on the floor. A few students screamed and I shook myself free and immediately crouched down to check her pulse.
She had none.
Before I could even blink in shock, the brunette's roommate ran out of the room in panicked urgency. She beckoned the nearest student, and he ran inside with her in terrified confusion as another girl collapsed. He returned with a desk lamp, his hands shaking as he placed it on the chair and struggled to plug it in, the rising hysteria around us deafening as students yelled at him to hurry up.
The bulb glowed just after a third kid crumpled to the ground, and everyone stood frozen in silence, breaths held in fearful anticipation. Everyone except me. I was checking pulses and calling ambulances, my heart rioting in my chest. I didn't understand what happened, and I was afraid I was responsible.
No one else collapsed after the lamp was replaced, but the mood before the police and paramedics arrived was excruciating, a mixture of terror, hatred, grief, and blame. The students were hugging, crying, and cursing, and the brunette's roommate was glaring at me from her door, venomous disgust in her eyes.
I spent an entire day at the station, but despite all the students blaming me, I was deemed innocent and sent home. I asked about the three casualties and was told their cause of death had yet to be identified.
I sat on my bed, shaking, my heart wringing as I wondered if I was responsible for three kids' deaths. It was impossible. Breaking silly traditions didn't result in deaths. Right? It was just a coincidence. Right?
I remembered the picture I took and pulled out my phone, gulping with inexplicable dread. I tapped open my gallery, and I frowned. The photo's quality was abysmal, and the colors were off. A green glow could be seen from the lower stairs, but there were no green lights anywhere in the fire escape.
A shudder rippled down my spine and I closed my phone, rubbing the goose bumps on my arms. Please, please someone explain last night to me. Please ...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
