Babysitter Cougar [COMPLETE]

Chapter 18 page 2 - Team Night Shift

After hand in the decision to him, I save my work and exiting the word processor when a sudden eerie screeching sound coming from outside catches my attention. It is short and discrete, resembling a squeaking movement of a rusted garden swing swaying lightly. I try to make any further deductions to the source of the sound, could be a draft, could be someone out there. But the security had cordoned this floor at 6.00 pm and no one else in this area except the both of us.

I gingerly turn and ask Saint who's busy perusing the documents, "What the hell was that?"

"What is it?" he asks back, eyes still glued to the paper.

"That sound," I point out of the room.

"Oh, allow it. It's 'the night shift team'," Saint answers in a deadpan tone.

"What 'night shift team'? There is no one out there," my voice lowers into whispers.

"Oh, they're imperceptible lot but I doubt you'd want to meet them," he grins insolently. "I've encountered some; scratcher, floater and screecher."

"What do you mean?"

"Scratcher loves clawing on Zakiya's door, you can hear it from afar. Floater sometimes passed through these walls," Saint motions at the walls around us causing me to spring up from the chair. "Fret not. You don't see floater today. It's the screecher's turn."

Knowing his explanations best describe ghosts or apparition, I resign from the desk and walk towards him.

"Okay, we should go," I suggest. "I'm not into seeing any demonic creatures or pontianak (ghost) tonight, not ever."

Saint hushes me, tapping his index finger against his lips. "Have you been living abroad long enough to forgo your superstitious belief? You don't explicitly say their names in their presence unless you want to attract it."

"But you start it first," I pant frantically. "You call them 'night shift team', 'screechers' and all."

"They're names for hints, there's a difference. But apparently, you've summoned one behind you," Saint's sly grin is a re-enactment of Bill Skarsgård's 'IT' creepy smile that stirs me to panic.

"Fuck! Saint! Let me out!" I yell and throw my punches at him, frisking for his staff ID card. "Let me out, you prick!"

"Stop!" he chortles, fending off my groping hands. "Stop or I'll file for another harassment."

My overwhelming exhausted self is unamused by his mischievous act. Instead, it roils me up that I unleash my wrath by inadvertently fire a couple of F-missiles at him, "Call the fucking cops for all I care. You fucking refrained me from going home and forced me to work past 10. Not only I'm fucking tired, but I'm also fucking traumatised. It's me who deserves justice!"

"Alright, makcik (auntie). I'm letting you out," he giggles, propping himself up from the sofa and leads me to the entrance. He taps his staff ID card on the security panel to unlock the door and pushes it open, gesturing me out.

"No," I shake my head. "You're coming down with me."

"No, you want to leave so I'm letting you out. That's the deal," he reminds.

"I'm not going to level 6 alone. You need to accompany me," I reason. "Besides, we both should be heading home by now."

"I don't take insolent requests. I'll be leaving in 10 minutes' tops."

"Are you gonna stay here 'till scrawler scrapes on your door?" I raise my authoritative voice. "Go and pack your backpack, then walk me to level 6."

"You don't get to tell me what to do, Sofia," he bickers in defiance. "My position in the Bank is more significant than yours. Know your place."

"I know my place, but you should know what to prioritise," I debate. "The Bank won't suffer outages without you. So, stopping rotting yourself in this hell hole, give yourself a break and go home."

"Bite me!"

"Don't make me call your after-hour friends to wheel you out from level 20!" I shout at him.

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