Inês Cortez
October 19, 2020
One of our mates appears from the kitchen holding a dark mug. “Relax, people! It’s me!”
One of our mates appears from the kitchen holding a dark mug. “Relax, people! It’s me!”
Inês Cortez
October 19, 2020
One of our mates appears from the kitchen holding a dark mug.
“Relax, people! It’s me!”
“Never do that again! You scared me!”
“Can’t a man be in the kitchen? Damn! And why are the lights out?”
“We don’t know, and the door won’t open.”
“Why? What’s up with the door?”
He tried to open it too without success, while I checked the distribution board. Everything seemed fine.
“Everything looks good. Maybe all the light bulbs fused”
“At the same time?”
There was light coming from the outside, so it couldn’t be a local electricity problem, could it? I don’t know, I don’t feel good.
At that moment, I’m thinking about how I can get us out of this room, and I have an idea: call someone. We have colleagues who had already left the office before the mysterious doorman came over, and they have a key.
I take my phone out of my pocket to call one of them, but there was a problem.
“Does anyone have signal on their phone?”
None of us did. One of us ran to the landline, only to find that its wires were cut.
“How is this possible?”
And then we listen: the sound of a child crying, coming from one of the cupboards. The box, still on my desk, starts shaking.
“Dude… what’s in the box?”
To be continued…
