Unknown
By: Riku Adler
Tags: Horror Fiction, Writing Challenge, Thriller, Writing Prompts, Horror

Photo by Markus Spiske on Unsplash

I was walking along my favorite park like I usually do at this hour. For many years, I passed by this street on my way to work. This park, and for this reason alone, is why settled at a small nearby flat. The view is extraordinary. The shops aplenty. The commute to work — a mere 20 minute walk.

Although it was an unexciting morning to some, I generally enjoy the early part of the day. Regardless of how gloomy, dreary, rainy the morning is, my feelings do not depend on the weather. I firmly believe that mornings give everyone a hope for a new beginning, a promise of something better.

My recurring soliloquy halted when I accidentally bumped into a gentleman with a briefcase. The forceful encounter led him to lose grip on the handle and drop his briefcase on the wet cobblestone floor.

“Bollocks” the gentleman hissed as he picked his briefcase from the floor.

“Sorry Sir, my bad” I said apologetically.

The gentleman moved on and brushed off my apology. He didn’t even looked at me.

I shrugged my shoulders and continued to walk towards my office. The rain is getting heavier and I have to get to a shade quickly.

Walking briskly, I adjusted my red beret with matching plaid scarf closely. I may have to make a run for it sooner.

BAAAAM!

Two women running towards my direction collided with me. The collision was so strong that one of the women fell backwards, bum first.

“What the heck?” the other one shouted as she pulled her friend off the wet, cold ground.

I walked towards her and offered her my hand. “Are you okay, miss?” I asked.

The woman who fell got up and dusted her coat with a quizzical look on her face. “What was that?”

“I’m sorry, I must have not paid proper attention. I sincerely apologize, do you need something? Tissue perhaps?” I babbled.

“I don’t know..” The other woman said, equally baffled.

“May I offer you something else? I’m really sorry.. Coffee perhaps?” I inquired further.

“Let’s just go.” Quipped the woman.

“I’m sorry again!” I shouted to their already retreating figures.

The rain was already falling hard and fast.

Groaning, I look around the street, the nearby café caught my eye. It is where I spend most of my weekends reading and writing. The staff know me, so staying there for a bit while waiting for the rain to stop would be fine.

When I entered the café, a somber atmosphere welcomed me. It is certainly weird. They are usually bright and cheery when I come by.

I asked Annie, the barista on duty, for an espresso.

She didn’t talked to me, nor acknowledge me. She just stood there- leaning on the wall looking gloomy.

“Hey Annie! Could I get an espresso please!” I said with a firmer, louder voice.

Nothing.

Suddenly, flashbacks of what happened to day run through my mind — the man with the briefcase, the two women in the street, and Annie. What is happening?

A chill slowly creeps on my spine, and the hairs on my arms began standing.

Something is definitely wrong around here. Before my head started spinning, I slumped over to the bar top counter and rested for a bit, trying to get my bearing.

In the counter was today’s newspaper. The caption reads: Top Exec died on apparent murder.

The article came with a picture of a woman with a familiar red beret and a matching plaid scarf.