I groaned, a tightness building in my chest as I tried to focus. The surreal feelings from the nightmare flooded back. Was that really just a dream? My eyes darted to the source of the glint, something pulling at my attention like a magnet. My thoughts scattered like marbles, racing off in different directions, none of them making any sense.
Should I ignore it and go to work? Will it find me at work? Should I see what this sparkle is? Was it a dream? Is this still a dream? Could it be... one of the brass casings?
Slowly, I turned my head toward the shine, my feet moving before I could stop them, drawn closer one step at a time. The air thickened, each breath heavier than the last. Something told me that whatever lay ahead could change everything. No. It will change everything.
Except it didn't.
The world tilted just for a moment, the mental fog lifting enough for me to recognize the object for what it was. My wife's necklace.
A heart-shaped pendant, delicate and familiar, dangled from a thin silver chain. I'd seen it countless times, a souvenir from a cruise trip long ago, but I couldn't shake the feeling that finding it on the living room floor felt wrong. Deeply wrong. A chill crept over me, made worse by my phone's sudden alarm. I looked down.6:45 AM / GonnaBL8GetGoin.
"I guess I should just get going," I said to no one in particular, trying to sound normal. It came out too flat, like I didn't believe it either.
The hour-and-a-half drive to the site was a blur, my mind snagging on fragments of the nightmare, especially the creature wearing my face. I could still feel the phantom pain of its teeth in my neck. I can feel part of my neck missing, even though every caress proves me wrong. At every red light, my hand instinctively reaches for Selene's pendant.
"I'm probably just really startled," I mumbled to myself, but something about it felt off. The necklace was too pristine, too shiny. Especially since Selene always kept her jewelry neatly tucked away in that little wooden box. The one she jokingly called her "dragon hoard."
But here I was, clutching it like a relic found on the floor of an ancient pyramid.
I was being dramatic.
A blaring horn yanked me from my daze.
"Move it, asshole! Green light!" a man shouted, his voice angry as a chorus of honking followed.
I gripped the wheel too tightly, the pendant cold in my grasp as I hit the gas and lurched forward.
I parked in a dingy garage on the corner of 18th, grabbed my survey bag, iPad, and took a good look at my neck in my window's reflection before staring again at the pendant.
Everything felt off, but it would have to wait.
"Better leave that here," I muttered, setting it in the center console, away from prying eyes.Hey, this is Philly after all.
I made my way toward the building, an empty apartment complex being converted into offices with a coffee bar on the first floor. God, I must be getting old, but I can't help but hate on this new-age gentrification. The security guards barely acknowledged me as I signed in and made my way into the musty building. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, casting a dim, flickering glow across the deserted lobby. The space had an uneasy stillness.
"First one here. I guess I'm early... Time to be an engineer," I said to myself, like I was the main character in a hero flick. Then I cringed at my own corniness.It was a thin defense. Humor, to fill the silence.
I walked through the different apartment units, marking locations of panels and devices, noting areas where demolition had begun. Honestly, it's going to be an easy project, but the clientele love knowing they have someone on site.
"Where are Matt and Klara? I'm usually the one who's late to the party," I muttered, continuing my work. About twenty minutes in and already running out of things to do without their presence.
I gave them both a call. Nothing.
Half an hour passed. Still no sign of them.
The silence pressed in, and my thoughts wandered back to the pendant in the car... and the nightmare. Chills ran through my neck. I didn't want to be alone anymore. I headed toward the lobby area, feeling more comfortable being closer to the security guards. Safety in numbers. Even if it's just two tired guards and a vending machine.
I considered calling Tommy. I hated the idea of tattling, but I couldn't finish the survey without them anyway.
I sat in a dusty office chair left by the lobby desk. It squished. I realized my pants had started to soak up some musty liquid.
"Of course," I groaned, my luck holding strong. I dialed Tommy, hoping I wouldn't smell like a mop for the rest of the day.
Cassian: "Hey, Tommy... So, um, Matt and Klara didn't show up yet. I can keep going without them, but it's been like an hour."My voice was shakier than expected. A few seconds passed before I continued."So... Um... Are they still coming down?"
After a pause, Tommy finally chimed in.
Thomas (laughing): "Told you to ride with them! Could've saved miles on the company car."
Cassian: "Ha. Ha. Yeah, hindsight's 20/20."The joke eased some of the tension.
Thomas: "Let me give them a call. Hold on a sec..."
The line went quiet.I played with my pen, sent my wife an I love you text, started doing anything to pass the time.
Finally, my phone buzzed."They didn't pick up. Tell you what, give them both another call in a few and let me know what happens. You don't need them to wrap up. You can go home if they don't hurry up."
"Yeah... Sounds good," I said through the phone, less confident than I had hoped.The pit in my stomach grew again. I rubbed the back of my neck, almost expecting to find a hole there.
Thomas: "You don't sound so good, Cass. Everything alright?"
Cassian: "Didn't sleep well, you could say."
Thomas: "Ahh. Well, if they're not there in thirty minutes, you have my permission to leave them in the dust. Keep me in the loop an—"
A scratchy, chilling scream echoed down the hall.
Thomas: "Uh... What the hell was that, Cassian?"
Cassian: "I... I don't know. I think it came from the hallway near the rear entrance."Cassian's voice trembled.
Thomas: "Is everything okay? Call the police if you have to. Don't be a hero. You know Philly's got its fair share of weirdos."
Thomas heard a shuffle. The sound was strange, like a gritty cassette tape being rewound.
Thomas: "Cassian?"
Thomas heard a loud clacking sound, like the phone hit the floor. A few more thuds followed.
Thomas: "Uh... Cassian?"
A burst of chaotic noise, then silence. No end call sound. Just... gone.
Thomas stared at his phone. He tried calling back several times. Each call went straight to voicemail.
"Shit," he whispered, dialing 9-1-1 with trembling hands.
Operator: "9-1-1, how may I help you?"
Thomas: "Yes, hello. My name is Thomas Hertz. I'm calling about my employee, Cassian Rivera. He's at the old Ritz-Linitz Complex in Philadelphia. We were on the phone, there was a scream, a tuffle, and then the line went dead. I can't reach him."
Operator: "Okay, sir, first what is your na-"
A sharp click cut through the line. A new voice, calm and cold, spoke:
Voice: "Hello, Mr. Hertz. I wasn't expecting you."
Thomas froze, every hair on the back of his neck rising.
Voice: "Consider this your only warning."
Click.
Thomas stared at his phone, then opened his laptop. He pulled up the news. No alerts. No incidents. Just traffic updates. He googled Cassian's name, but couldn't find anything but fictional characters.
He thought of calling 9-1-1 again, but the threat lingered.
He dialed Matt. Straight to voicemail.
Then Klara. Same.
A new idea crossed his mind.
Thomas: "Maybe I should call his wife..."
Selene: "Hello, Selene Estrada speaking."
Thomas: "Hi Selene, this is your husband Cassian's boss, Tommy Hertz. Nice to speak with you."
Selene: "Oh, uh, hi Mr. Hertz. What can I do for you?"
Thomas: "Have you heard from Cassian today?"
Selene: "No, he usually sends a text by now but he's been pretty silent, why do you ask?"
Thomas: "Could you give Cassian a call? We were on the phone, but it cut out suddenly. I haven't been able to reach him."
Selene: "Uhhh... Sure? I'll call him and let you know if I hear anything."
She dialed his number. It went straight to voicemail.
She tried three more times, then sent him a text:
Selene: Hey, pick up. Your boss called for you.
Selene: He's worried about you.
One more call. Still nothing.
Selene: Is everything okay?
Cassian: Stop calling me.
Selene: Just pick up.
Cassian: Stop.
Selene: What do you mean, "Stop"? Just pick up, is everything okay?
Cassian: You know exactly what I mean, bitch.
Selene froze. He never called her that. Ever. This wasn't Cassian on the phone.
Selene: You never call me a bitch.
Selene: What the hell is wrong with you?
Selene: Don't you ever dare call me that again, bitch.
Selene: Fuck you.
Selene: I'm calling the cops.
Selene hoped her threat to call the cops would spur who ever stole Cassian's phone into a phone call or something.
Cassian: Drop it now, or you'll regret it.
She began angrily typing, her fingers fumbling:
"Cassian, I don't konw what teh fuck is up wit you but if you don't talk to me with some goddam respect I swear I"
Cassian (interrupting): I'll talk to you however I damn well please.
Cassian: Drop it, or regret it.
Cassian: Choice is yours, bitch.
Cassian: And stop calling. It's for your own good.
She didn't reply. Her fear replaced her anger.
She deleted her message and dialed Thomas.
Selene: "Hello, Mr. Hertz," she said quickly, her voice shaky.
Thomas: "Hey, Selene. Did you manage to get through to him?"
Selene: "I did... sort of."
Thomas: "That's goo-"
Selene (cutting him off): "It's not him texting me."
Silence.
Selene: "He called me a bitch. He's texting really out of character. And... it's like he's psychic. Like he knew what I was texting before I texted it. I'm really worried. Is everything okay?"
She already knew it wasn't.
Thomas: "To be honest, Selene, I have no idea." He paused. "He called me earlier, asked about Matt and Klara not showing up. Then I heard screaming. Something that sounded like an explosion... or maybe a lot of movement. Then the line died. And..." He hesitated.
Selene: "And?"
Thomas: "Well the call ended, and I decided to call 9-1-1 but then a voice came on the line. Creepy, metallic. It threatened me."
Another long silence.
Thomas: "Actually... I just had an idea. And Selene, I'm sorry."
Selene: "Sorry? For what?"
Thomas: "I don't know yet."
He hung up.
Thomas's hands shook as he dialed both Matt and Klara again. Still voicemail. He called the project manager next.
Tony: "Anthony Maggiliccio speaking."
Thomas: "Hey Tony. Quick question did any of my team show up today?"
Tony: "Let me call the guard shack."
Thomas took this chance to look up the news again to see if anything was reported yet. Nothing.
Tony: "Cassian Rivera signed in. That's it. Nobody else, even though the meeting invite listed three."
Thomas: "Yeah. I was on the phone with Cassian when something happened. There was a scream. Can you have one of the guards check on him?"
Tony: "Sure, bub. I'll get Desean on it. If anything's weird, I'll call the cops."
Thomas: "Thanks. Oh and let me know if the rest of my team show up."
Tony: "You got it, Tommy."
Tammy was just finishing her break when she heard someone shout.
"Yo, Tams! Tony wants one of us to check on that short guy."
She sighed. Can't even piss in peace.
Tammy: "The construction dude from earlier? Why?"
Desean: "Yeah. Just go check on him. Tony said to keep the walkie-talkie on and check the other doors too."
Tammy rolled her eyes. She flicked on her flashlight as she walked through the dark entrance.
Tammy (grumbling): "That's wild. Lights are off. How he gonna see anything?"
She flipped a switch - nothing.
Tammy: "Got me up in here in the dark. I should make him do this. Place probably gonna be some lawyer's office or something..."
Her voice echoed softly as she kicked a toppled rolling chair.
Tammy: "Man, you'd think they'd clean up in here. Smells too... clean?"
She sniffed again.
Tammy: "Smells like Lysol. What is this, a doctor's office?"
She kept walking.
Tammy (calling out): "Cass-see-ann? You 'round here?"
No response.
Tammy: "Cash-shennnnnnn... come on, man, it's dark in here. What you doin' in the dark?"
Silence. Her keys jingled. She reached for her walkie.
Tammy: "Hey, Desean, ain't nobody in-"
A scraping sound interrupted her. She froze. The sound came from down the hall.
Desean: "You were sayin', Tams?"
Tammy: "One sec. It's dark as shit in here..."
She turned the corner. Her flashlight beam caught a pale face.
Eyes, glowing icy blue, stared back at her, unblinking.
It was him... but not.
That was the guy from earlier, but wrong. Too still. Too clean. Too...
She backed away. Her flashlight flicked across the scene. Tools lay scattered. A survey bag sat nearby. The iPad was halfway across the floor.
Tammy: "Sir?" Her voice barely rose above a whisper.
Nothing.
The air vent hummed louder. Why were the lights off, but the ventilation on?
Desean (over walkie): "Watchu mean dark? Lights should be on, Tams."
Her walkie crackled in her hand as she backed away. The figure stared, eyes fixed, pupils swelling but never blinking.
Tammy: "Desean... call the police. And get Tony. Now."
She blinked.
The man was gone.
The lights were on.
And the smell was no longer Lysol, just old, musty air.
Desean: "Watchu say, Tams? I didn't catch that."
She stood alone in the hallway. No figure. No iPad. No Cassian.
Nothing.