MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “mystery”

Destruction in the dark

dale-rogerson4

©Dale Rogerson

They had gone to the exotic island looking for calm, relaxation and an escape from everything. Instead, what they found there was far from it.

As the full moon rose behind the clouds, sirens were heard – police, firebrigades, ambulances, you couldn’t tell.

Natives said they never before had seen such a destruction. A fire raging in the centre of town, people screaming, panicking, not knowing what to do. Viewing the commotion alone was enough to make you agitated, even if you were just a bystander.

For days, stories of witnesses, of survivors, of victims’ relatives would haunt everyone’s TV screen.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

 

The off-course bus

http://ttvalueinvesting.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/route.jpgIt arrived on time and appeared just like any other of its type. It had four double doors symmetrically situated across one end, large windows, and an advertisement painted across both sides. From its exterior, it seemed like a normal bus. Even inside, it did not differ from others – it had enough space for passengers to be seated or standing and it was in great condition. Almost new. But there was something that made this bus special. You couldn’t tell at first. And most of all, you never expected what would come.

You would stop the bus at the stop and get on, maybe even find a seat. You presumed it would take you to your destination – the city centre – relatively quickly. But half way there, the bus would suddenly change course. If you were too distracted in your own thoughts it would take you a while to realise you were off course. Others would acknowledge it as soon as the bus took a “wrong” turn. Some passengers would react. Others would stress that they would be late for their appointments. Some others would simply remain silent, waiting to see what would happen. The driver would not respond to any.

After a while, you would realise the bus was not going to the city centre. The passengers that reacted intensely would soon tire and be quiet. And as the bus took an unknown route, almost all passengers would begin to plan scenarios in their head of where they would end up. These ranged from a serial killer bus driver that would throw them off a cliff, to a surprise destination where a millionaire would host a party to advertise a new acquisition. You would conjure in your head whatever you wanted, but you would be well aware that expectation was always the root of all disappointment. So you would try and pretend that you didn’t care where the bus was going.

After a long while, the bus would return to its course and, taking double time, would end up at the city centre, where it was supposed to be going in the first place. But, during that route, all passengers would have calmed down and, lost in their thoughts, dreams and mental to-do-lists, would not realise they had arrived. That was the point of this bus – to make you understand that what matters most is the route and how you get to your destination, not so much your final point of arrival.

The surprise bomb

https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0031/8592/products/Mystery-box-Black-closed-David-Blaine.jpg?v=1493223671Don’t touch that!” The fire chief yelled as he ran towards Levi. The latter raised his glance in fright and froze in place. Wasn’t this what he was trained to do? To prevent bombs from detonating?

The fire chief raced to Levi’s position, gasping for air as his glove-covered hands passed over the black box. His fingers barely came into contact with it, but he was already trembling as if the lives of thousands of people who worked in that building depended on it.

All residents and employees of the tower had been evacuated and for the past twenty minutes, it was only the fire fighters and bomb squad who were found within those walls. They could feel the time ticking menacingly away and with every second that fled, they felt their breath grow shorter.

This was the fire chief’s ultimate act. He was going into retirement the very next day. This was his last mission. But it was Levi’s first. As experienced and as calm as the chief was, Levi was exactly the contrary, trying to masque his anguish and fear through a calm demise.

The fire chief opened the box with fingers shaking and sweat dripping from his forehead. He didn’t know what to expect – it could be anything, from a ticking bomb to a mere post-it informing of a prank. He wished it would be the latter. But instead, inside the box he found a smaller black box, and inside that, another even smaller. His temperature began to rise as his cheeks flushed. Levi looked on with eyes wide open. He could feel his heart pumping eager to beat out of his chest.

The fire chief took the smallest box in his hand and with a move worthy of a surgeon carefully opened it. Inside was a cupcake. That’s right. A small muffin-sized cake with icing on top. He examined it on all sides and was assured that it was a harmless dessert. That is when he finally lifted his gaze.

His men were standing around him, giggling and waiting for his reaction. It took him a while to figure it out. They had surprised him with one last adrenaline-rush. But all this was, was a farewell party.

Levi smiled. If only all bomb detonation missions would be as easy and happy-ended as this one.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Detonate

The chain-locked door

ceayr-purple-door

©CEayr

They hadn’t walked too far when they reached a purple door. It was too modern to fit in with the rest of the historic edifice they had spent the past two hours exploring.

Why do you think it’s chain-locked?” she asked, curiosity mounting up inside her.

“Who knows, maybe they don’t want nosy-parkers trying to open it,” he replied playfully.

Now she was even more intrigued. What could be hidden behind such a door, almost indented on the outer castle periphery?

She stepped over the chain and pulled the door open.

I told you not to do that,” he squealed.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The secret within

from-amy-reese

©Amy Reese

As he hurried hastily down the white hallway, his mind wandered behind every tightly shut door he passed by. The corridor displayed a deceivingly innocent façade, emitting a hospital-like severity. The silence that swept through it made every movement reverberate at decibels ten times higher than normal. He found himself almost tiptoeing so as to minimise the noise. But he had to hurry. He was expected at the end of the line of doors.

As yet, he did not know what to anticipate. But the telephone call told him to arrive there and come alone.

He was forced to obey.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

Also part of Daily Prompt: Façade

The question

http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2DR09KdLUeA/UJzJNw_9YWI/AAAAAAAAGlA/7df7bqIK9kY/s1600/clouds-with-green-nature.jpgIt is truly strange how one question can affect your entire life in ways you can’t even predict. How it can not only change your present, but may alter your future and any expectations for it that you may have had. What is most astonishing is the fact that it may very well be a question that had never crossed your mind before.

Jeremy lay in a hospital bed for the past five hours. He was connected to a machine that helped him maintain a stable breathing rate, supplying him with enough oxygen. His right hand had a long needle taped into it through which serum dripped into his blood vessels. The room was as silent as a temple. Outside the window, a green forest was shielding the stress and clamour of the nearby city. He lay still, to the extent that if you didn’t notice his chest move up and down, you wouldn’t know if he was even breathing.

His body was frail, full of scars and burns. He was lucky to be alive, but he did not know it. His head was wrapped in layers of white bandage, giving him the appearance of an Egyptian mummy. Yet, Jeremy lay there still and calm, as if nothing of what he had just survived had ever happened.

What he did not know, however, was what exactly did happen.

He opened his eyes exactly five hours and twenty-two minutes after he was intubated in that sanatorium.

Standing above his bed was a man sporting a very noble appearance in an elegant grey suit, with a cleanly-cut brown beard, small round spectacles and short hair that betrayed a hint of gray if you looked hard enough. He was observing him, monitoring Jeremy’s every move and patiently waiting for something to happen.

Jeremy had never seen him before.

At least that was what he thought.

But he could be wrong.

Amnesia does that.

As the man spoke, his voice, coarse and deep, echoed across the room, reverberated against the empty white walls.

What are you doing here?

The Object

Wooden boxThe voice echoed in the room magnifying the emptiness of the space. He could hear the metal in his boots dominating the wooden floor. It made him feel so small, lost in that vast space.

He was captivated by a person whose face he could not see. All he saw was two round black circles where his eyes would be. He knew it was a man because his robust figure betrayed his gender and the sound of his voice was deeper and coarser than any he had ever heard.

The footsteps and the slamming of an apparently very heavy door betrayed that his captivator had left.

Silence fell over the room. Together with the darkness that already lay there, the atmosphere was creepy to say the least.

He could feel his feet chained to the ground and his hands were loosely tied, enough to make things difficult for him.

His eyes begun to become accustomed to the darkness and he saw that the knot that had him bound down could be easily untied with a few tugging moves. But not having your feet free to move around made escaping a bit more tricky.

He looked around, trying to remain ahead of the panic that was rapidly overwhelming him.

There was an object right in front of him. It was within an arm’s reach. A black rectangular box.

He got up and stretched as far as he could, grabbing it tight.

There were markings on it. Faded letters. If you stared hard enough and looked back, they together formed the word “key”.

He had to get the box opened immediately before that voice returned. He banged it with the chains on his legs. But it was useless. A code was required to break open the lock. He looked around. On each of the four walls in the room was a number counting down from “5”. He tried “5,4,3,2”, but the lock did not open. It resisted any other such combination too. He then began randomly placing numbers in the lock, hoping something would click.

It did when the code formed “1,1,1,1”.

Was it that easy?

The box had a key inside. Which opened the chains on his legs. And then the door.

It was too easy.

It was.

Because when he opened the door the voice returned, louder than ever sprouting from a black mask and holding a chainsaw in front of his black eyeholes.

That’s when everything completely blacked out.

And that is when he finally awoke from the coma he was in for three weeks.

He remembered nothing.

Apart from the box with the key.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Object

Evading time

hourglass @SandraCrookShe looked at the hourglass and could feel her panic turn into a cold stream of sweat running down her spine.

Stress would always get to her head. And stomach.

But time was something against she could never fight and win. Most of the time.

She couldn’t delay it anymore. He had to find out now. Later would be too…late.

She took a deep breath and began marching like a soldier into battle.

But the minute she extended her first step, a strong hand grabbed her shoulder and held her back.

He appeared right now.

Time had just run out.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers and Daily Prompt: Evasive Action

The door you choose

mysterious doorThere were three doors. One made of steel, one of wood and one of tainted glass. The timer was menacingly heading towards zero. You had to choose one door. The one you would go through not knowing what you would find. What do you choose?

Steel is reminiscent of some futuristic, science-fiction story that would evolve behind it. Not very much your style.

Wood is in a sense more romantic; more traditional in a way. But you would still not have picked that.

So you choose tainted glass. Maybe it would hide an adventure behind it, and, really, what is life if without any risks?

You open the door, careful of what would pop-out from behind. But there is nothing. At least nothing immediately obvious.

You walk into a dark cloud that engulfs you like a marshmallow.

A human figure appears out of seemingly nowhere. But you do know who they are. You’ve had a crush on them for so long. You’ve exchanged heated kisses one afternoon, and another after that, but they always said that “they were not at that place at that moment” so you could not start or even attempt a relationship. Yet, you remained stuck, thinking about them for months. Grief filled your heart. Why is it that we always want more of what we can’t have?

The figure dissolved into a poster. A white poster with three lines. They read “try to be remarkable”. The “try to” was crossed out. You instantly filled with ambition. With all the things you wanted to achieve. With all the dreams and plans that constantly swerved in your head.

As you move ahead, the cloud appears to disperse and it becomes clearer that you are in a mansion. One of the old types that used to be a castle or palace of some sort. Some wealthy estate you would guess. Pity you’re not dressed accordingly. But as soon as you look down, your jeans and t-shirt have transformed into an elegant gown, worthy of royalty. Could it be, that we could just wish things into existence?

Then you start feeling your shoes wet. You look down and see you’ve walked into a puddle. The palace dispersed into thin air and you are now outdoors, in a meadow, in the middle of a stream. You’re back in your casual outfit, and your snickers are soaking wet. You look again and they are drenched in blood. All around you lies a dark alley with aluminium dumpsters from which rats run out of. It is so dark you can hardly see anything. Your hands feel wet. But it is blood. Fear has overwhelmed you that you spin around, unwary of what will appear next. How can emotions change so rapidly? How can our own reality succumb to so many developments in an instant?

You turn and turn, until you finally roll off the bed.

You wake, still soaked in your own sweat and realise it was all a dream.

It only lasted for so much less than you thought, but it was so real, now you can’t go back to sleep without contemplating how much we miss out on by simply not seeing enough of our surroundings.

Also part of Daily Prompt: Just a Dream

How to disappear

Boat+and+Aegean SeaWhen she walked past, heads turned and whispers began to be heard louder than buzzing bees. Rebecca was the kind of woman who could not pass by unnoticed. It wasn’t just her beauty and decisive step that caused people to stop and stare. It was the fact that she was famous. And celebrities had that effect, no matter how much they sometimes wished they didn’t.

Rebecca had risen to fame quite suddenly. A quite afternoon reading session at a small town bistrot led to her being noticed by a hotshot producer who was out searching for his new (unknown) muse. She was offered a hefty remuneration and was promised “an experience of a lifetime”. Rebecca was the type of person who grabbed life by the horns and enjoyed every moment of it. So she decided to try it out. What did she have to lose anyway? Little could she expect then, that what she was giving up was life as she knew it.

The film was a huge success and Rebecca became a star overnight. She could no longer go anywhere alone as she could not fight back the stream of paparazzi following her every step. She was given a strict set of guidelines of what she could and could not do, what she should say, even what to wear and where to go. Soon, Rebecca grew tired of this new lifestyle. She wanted her independent existence back and was determined to get her way this time.

During her few days of forcefully obtained summer vacations, Rebecca managed to secure an hour for scuba diving off the coast of the little island where she was staying. She had everything prepared days before. Her oxygen was enough to last a couple of hours. She had stuffed some money inside her diving suit and had already planned the route she would follow so as to “drift away”. And thankfully it all went smoothly. Rebecca went scuba diving on a windy day when the underlying currents were too strong for an inexperienced diver to deal with. She was carried away and her body was never found. Her mysterious disappearance dominated the press for a couple of weeks, but, like so many other cases, was soon forgotten.

That was exactly what Rebecca wanted. To escape from the media spotlight.

She changed her name and thus identity and continued to live a “normal” life somewhere else. Somewhere where people recognized her need for privacy and respected it.

Because sometimes all it takes to truly disappear is the will to actually do so.

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