In and out.
That was all it was supposed to be, a quick dash and grab job. Manslaughter definitely hadn’t been on the agenda.
All he had to do was go in, find the broken remains of the now defunct mascot of an old business, send it to his source, and sell it online to collectors for an easy profit.
Yet here he was, standing over the old guard’s corpse. He was probably 10 years older than Murray, putting him in either his late 30s or early forties, and Murray had panicked and bashed his head in with a decent sized rock he had managed to find during his quick fumble for a weapon.
The old restaurant was run down, and was an obvious target for young kids and their destructive rock throwing habits.
Why didn’t my source mention the guard?
Murray hadn’t meant to kill the guard, but something about the place made him twitchier than normal, and Murray had kept swinging the rock after the first blow before he even realised the shape that had been slowly stalking him, apparently by accident, was another man, whose job was solely to wander around and be here in case of any issues.
Thinking about his source, Murray then recalled the other bit of advice he’d been given.
Don’t stay past 12am. His source had written.
If you do, say goodbye to the paycheck.
How will you know? Murray had replied.
I’ll know. His source had cryptically replied.
Murray looked at his watch’s digital LED display, the red light showing him he was past his deadline, but nothing had happened. Shrugging and picking up the dead guard’s flashlight and using it to light his way, he set off back towards the direction of the entrance.
When the exit was within sight, oddly mechanical howls of anguish and suffering echoed throughout the building, sounds no human could easily make, nor any animal that he was familiar with.
Then the skittering started, lightly at first, enough to creep Murray out after having heard the strange howls.
Then it seemed to head in his direction, to encompass and surround Murray, then stopped.
As Murray neared the entrance, his lance of light fell upon an odd site.
A small stuffed version of one of the less popular mascots, a bear with a top hat, was lying in his path, a bloody rock wedged deep into the back of its head.
skitter
Murray shined his flashlight to the left in the direction of the sound, and glimpsed a small shape quickly ducking out of the beam’s glare.
skitter
Behind him, Murray whirled as something quickly shoved him. He landed on his ass, hard enough to shock him at the strength of whatever had knocked him down