The Twilight Underworld

Chapter 1

    It has been two days since the incident at the office. I've seen him once or twice since then, or at least his car parked outside my job. Let me explain. I was working late on a report, seeing as I somehow always manage to get sucked in and lose my sense of time. I remember the last time that I checked it was 8:36pm, and by that time the custodial crew had already come and gone. I finished up my report, grabbed my purse and keys, and headed to my boss's office to drop off the folder. That's when I noticed a soft light inside the room and a shadow on the closed blinds.

   It was not normal for my boss, Jim, to stay late. Most days he was gone at 5 along with everyone else. My curiosity and a strange, twisting knot in my stomach rooted me to the spot.

   I bit my tongue, a pang of fear shooting through me, leaving electric tingles in my fingertips. Someone was in there, and I could hear soft voices. It wasn't until I pressed my ear up to the door softly that I could make out what the voices were saying. "What was that? Right outside the door. You said no one was here," a voice hissed. "That we wouldn't be bothered."

   "Please, just ignore them-'' Jim strained, but before he could utter another word, the door swung open. My heart leapt into my throat. Peering down at me was a tall, lanky man with tousled, chocolate brown hair. His skin was pale and he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks. His disheveled hair contrasted sharply with his classy suit and coat. He had bandages on his hands, and on one arm it seemed the bandages snaked up his forearm.

   "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean- I was just-" I stammered.

   "Christine," my boss said nonchalantly from behind the desk. The man in front of me made no movement, he only loomed over me with his hand on the doorframe, his gaze fixed on me. I peered under his arm to see my boss sitting behind his desk, his face pale at the realization of who was behind his door. Inside the office, two burly men in black suits with earpieces sat in chairs, silent and imposing.

   "It's okay. I appreciate you working on that report for me," he cut me off, forcing a smile. His eyes, though, pleaded for me to leave. I nodded, understanding the unspoken command, and turned to leave. The man's cold eyes followed me, making my skin crawl as I rushed to the elevator.

   On the drive home, I felt uneasy. Why was Jim there? Who were those men? And who was the guy at the door? Everything in my mind was screaming at me to forget about it, that maybe I can pretend like it didn't happen, that it wasn't real. That night I locked every window and door to my apartment. 

   The next day, Jim made no mention of what had transpired. Everyone filed into the conference room for the morning meeting, and he even congratulated me on my work from the folder I dropped off last night. My right eye twitched at the mention of it, but I smiled nonetheless. A while later while on my lunch break, I swear I could have seen the strange man among a group of pedestrians crossing the street. My blood ran cold but when I looked for him again, he was nowhere to be found.

   Today, as I walked back to work from the cafe with my lunch in hand, I noticed something strange. Across the street from my office was a sleek, black car parked neatly in between the other cars lined up on the side of the road. It gave me a strange feeling. The windows were so dark I couldn't see inside, but a chill ran down my spine. I rushed inside, stealing glances out the window all day. The car remained. It seemed ridiculous—maybe someone just bought a new car—but deep down, I knew it was his. It had to be. Now, anytime that I see someone out of the corner of my eye that even loosely resembles him I am quick to turn my head.

   As the day drags on, a soft knock at my door drags me out of whatever spreadsheet I was creating. I peer over the monitor to see none other than Rachel, one of the secretaries.

   She flashes me a smile as she walks in. "Hey Christine! Jamie and I found a club just a couple blocks over. Do you want to come hang out after work?"

   She can already see the apprehension in my face before I answer her. "I don't know Rachel, last time-" She rolls her eyes playfully before taking a seat in the chair across from me. "Girl, Jamie and I promise we won't do it again. Come on, it'll be fun!" She takes my hand and gives me her best puppy dog eyes, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout. "Please, Christine."

   I can't help but let the corners of my lips curl up in a small smile. Last time, Rachel and Jamie invited me and some other girls from the office to a bar where they proceeded to get black out drunk. The night ended with me taking them back to my apartment, the other girls piling into a cab, and both girls passed out in my living room. Rachel squeezes my hand, for my answer.

   I sigh deeply before asking, "What time?" She squeals in excitement, jumping up and letting my hand go. "Be there around eight. I'll text you the address. And wear that one dress! You know the one! I swear Christine, I don't even think you know how hot you look in that thing." She fans herself dramatically, laughing, before she flies out of my office to tell Jamie the news.

   As I turn back to my computer, my eyes drifted towards the window again. The sleek, black car was still there, its dark windows like eyes watching my every move. I shook my head, trying to dismiss the paranoia creeping into my thoughts. It's just a car, Christine. The rest of the afternoon flies by, my mind focused on the evening ahead. A night out with my friends seemed like a good idea to get my mind off of the unease that had settled in over the last few days. Still, as the clock ticked closer to 5, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Just as I go to shut off my computer, a message pops on the screen. It's from Jim: "Christine, can you come to my office before I leave?"

   My heart skips a beat. I gather my things and head to his office, the memory of that night playing in my mind. I knock softly on the door. "Come in," Jim's voice calls from the other side. I take a deep breath and push the door open. Jim is sitting behind his desk, but this time, the room is empty. No shadows, no strangers, just Jim. "Thanks for stopping by, Christine. I wanted to talk to you about that report," he begins, but his eyes flit to the door, as if he is expecting someone to enter.

   Before I could respond, a shadow passed by the window. My heart races as I turn to look, but no one is there. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Was it him again? Jim's voice pulls me back into the present moment, "I just wanted to say you've been doing an excellent job. Keep it up." His smile doesn't reach his eyes. The look he has on his face is one of understanding, as if to say, "We will not speak of the other night again." I smile weakly and mutter a thank you. As I leave his office, my mind is in overdrive. Tonight. Tonight, I am going to go out with Rachel and Jaime. A distraction is what I need. But even as I walk to my car, I can't help but look over my shoulder as if there are unseen eyes watching me.

   The car is now gone, but the unease remains.