Shadow Echos
Pairing: none?
Word Count: 797
The hum of the fan harmonized with the monitors as you leaned back in your chair. The clock dragged on, the ticks becoming agonizing and too far in-between for your liking. Pushing yourself up in your chair, you lean towards the monitor with your hand resting on your chin, your elbow hitting the table. Your half empty, cold coffee trembles for a moment, the brown liquid lapping against the stained sides of the mug. Your warm breath fogs up your vision in the frozen room for just a moment before clearing up to reveal the screen only inches away. Your eyes jump as you clicked through the different cameras, waiting for absolutely nothing to happen.
“The longer I have to deal with this job, the better the idea of marrying someone for their money sounds,” you tiredly mumble to yourself as you click one more time.
The screen was in a fuzzy color, the camera so old that you were sure it must be from the 70′s at least. Just as your mind started to wonder why they haven’t replaced it, you saw some movement in the corner of lab 230. Leaning closer, you tried to watch for the movement again, but there was nothing. Your finger was quicker though, and started to click through the cameras. The movement was shown again, this time a little clearer and a lot bigger than you had seen the first time. Looking down at the corner of the monitor, you saw it was in lab 110.
Your eyes started to grow wide as you shook your head, “that’s only down the hall.” Your voice creepily echoed through within the room as you spoke your thoughts.
Slowly, you pushed out of your chair, reaching for the flashlight that sat on the corner of the desk. Pressing the button, the light flickered for a moment before becoming still. White fingers now gripping the dark metal, your other hand reaching out to push the door open.
The hallway was freezing as you stepped out of the small room. The gray walls and checkerboard tiles made you feel as if you were in a hospital and not the research section of the science building. You feet pulled you down the hallway and towards the dreaded room. You started to reach for the frozen handle when you stopped yourself. Shaking your head, you wondered out loud, “why the fuck am I doing this? I do not get paid enough for this.” You pushed away from the door, sense starting to fill your body when there was the sound of glass crashing against the floor. Curiosity and fear threw the door open, the flashlight gripped between your fingers like a bat as your feet carefully stepped within the room. Calling out, you warned, “do not mess with me. I am underpaid, not fed well enough and tired.”
A shadow whipped across the room, you quickly let your flashlight drop from your grip, rolling across the ground before lighting up the dark corner to reveal a girl with dark green hair and even darker eyes.
Slowly leaning down to pick up the flashlight, your eyes never leave the girl’s. Quieter now, you ask, “what are you doing here? This building is supposed to be closed.”
The girl now looks frightened as she rushes past you and out of the room.
You follow her into the hallway, “Wait! Where are you going?”
She’s down the hall and disappearing around the corner before you could even blink at the sight. Reaching the end of the hall, your eyes scanned the darkness around the corner before your body slumps over. The girls speed overtook your mind as you still continued to wonder how that happened. Then worry started to set in, the girl’s eyes flashing in your mind. Despite their darkness, there was a fear in them.
Hopeless, you hurry back to your station, flipping through the cameras again. For the rest of the night, you didn’t catch anything on the cameras and there was no sight of the girl.
The clock now started to tick faster and the morning sun was soon shining into the room to reveal a slouched form with deep, dark circles under their eyes. Pressing the mouse one more time, you switched the camera to find nothing once again.
Tired, drained, and confused, you sluggishly gather your stuff. Dumping the disgusting dark liquid into the unsuspecting trash can, you plop the now empty stained mug back onto the table. Leaving it, you pull your back over your shoulders and make your way out into the still empty halls lit by the early morning sun.
With your fingers circling around the exit door’s handle, the whisper, “see you tonight, Y/N,” echoes in a high-pitched, almost taunting voice.
