All his life, Hubert Foster had a pathological fear of machines. At the same time, he was wildly attracted to them, and the mere mention of them in any conversation would make him shiver and twitch. For five days every week, for forty years, he would catch the local train at precisely one o clock in the afternoon, reach the newspaper building, walk down seven blocks to a warehouse at the edge of a pier. It was an old abandoned warehouse, and no one really knew what happened inside it, for it would stay locked most of the time. Although no one dared to venture within ten metres of the warehouse, the local sailors and fish-catchers could swear that they would hear all sorts of sounds coming from inside, whenever they would pass by on their steamboats and motorboats. All they were able to see was a group of men coming out every day at five sharp, making their way to the station. They couldn't make out anything out of this group, either. They were perfectly ordinary looking men, with straight faces, tweed coats and grey fedoras. But the fact that they came out of a warehouse, of all places, seemed odd. The sailors and the fishermen, however, decided that that it was in their best interests to mind their own business, without having to wonder what those men were doing in that rickety old warehouse.
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Nyctophilia
Mystery / ThrillerHubert's son is sick. He's about to die. But Hubert does not want to lose him. So he does something that leaves his wife, Mary, speechless with horror. What does he do? Find out in this short thriller on life after death.
