MC's Whispers

Whispering Silences

Archive for the tag “mystery”

The thrill of a parcel

http://www.chopra.com/sites/default/files/field/image/8giftsthatfosterkindnessandcompassion.jpgThere is something inexplicably intriguing with finding a parcel in the post addressed to you. Even if you know what is in it and you’re expecting it, you’re always filled with excitement at the mere sight of it. But when it comes as a surprise, a flood of enthusiasm fills your inside.

Tina found the parcel around noon. She had just returned from work and was looking forward to lying on the couch for the next couple of hours doing nothing, perhaps even dozing off a little. It was a medium-sized brown box. It could contain pretty much anything. But what was in it? And who was it from?

Tina examined it from all sides, but she couldn’t find an answer.

She took it into her flat and began to investigate how she could open it the fastest without causing too much damage to it. She took a scissors and ripped the packing tape holding the two box sides together. Inside was another package. This time in the form of a black-and-white paper envelope. She ripped it open to find a pair of purple woollen mittens.

Tina could barely contain her delight. Mittens for her meant one thing: snow. And as a December child, she loved this delicate white blanket that made everything seem all so magical.

In between the mittens was a small handwritten festive card. Tina read it and began to jump up and down with exhilaration. It was clear whom it was from and she couldn’t wait.

The card said, “are you ready!?

 

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The box under the nightstand

https://i.pinimg.com/originals/2f/fc/0f/2ffc0f66ff6daa65af6bdfdd9de45066.jpgThere was a box she had in the open space under her nightstand. It was a usual cardboard box that seemed to be made out of wood and was beautifully decorated with colours and abstract figures. She treasured the box because inside she kept her happiness.

She had never shown the box to others. Sometimes, there are things you don’t share. Things you keep for yourself.

Those closest to her, who had the honour and privilege of entering her bedroom, always found that box under the nightstand to be a mystery. Because even when asked about it, she would simply smile, her eyes lighting up, gaze somewhere else, even blush a little, and respond with just a smile.

No-one ever tried to open the box. Because for some things you respect the other’s privacy. And often, a little mystery keeps your heart pounding a bit faster and your mind racing with all the possible scenarios of what it might contain.

The box under her nightstand was renewed often and she believed that as long as she would have something to put in it, life was good.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Mystery

The rain of fate

ted-struts-in-the-rain

©Ted Strutz

They had planned this trip for weeks and they were determined not to allow the weather to change anything. They had packed everything and filled up the car, persuading themselves that they would have the time of their lives.

The rain evolved from tiny drops to thunder and hail.

They were told to turn their lights on and be extra careful at the harbour, particularly when entering the ship.

The sea itself became restless.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea?” Matilda already began to worry. Perhaps destiny did not want them on that ship.

It’ll be fine,” he replied.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

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

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