Figures it would start pouring down right before I take off.
It was unfair. Unfair that her mother selfishly refused to give up her genes. Fran was left with her father's thin hair, pinched nose, and protruding belly. It was unfair that the same woman would torment her about those looks until Fran wanted her to hurry up and die just so she could get some relief.
It was unfair that Michael McDonald was the perfect specimen of a man.
But life was like that. Unfair. She looked at the clock. Almost time. In just a few minutes Michael would walk in. He would smile, and ask how she was doing. He'd make her laugh at something silly, something only made funny because he was so charming…
Immolation
The flourmill squatted in the middle of nowhere, a wilderness sparsely broken by sprawled, battered homes; ramshackle remnants of a forgotten time. It was a crude, leering stack of hastily poured concrete, a testament to the lack of imagination that infected contractors whose only aim was to squeeze in under a heavily slashed budget without a major disaster. Towers housing raw wheat loomed twelve stories high, a roosting place for pigeons to defecate and molt their filthy feathers.
Guy exited the confines of his Mustang, frowning. The sensation of being watched caused his shoulders to clench uncomfortably. He kept his face casual as he yawned and stretched, scanning the surrounding area.
Ghost fingers tickled the back of his head. He turned around slowly. Nothing was visible save for a solitary raven, perched on the railing of the truck ramp.
The bird cocked its head; its obsidian eyes gleamed with arcane answers missing only the question to liberate them. There were others — ravens on the lawn, the wires leading to the building, the tops of the freight trucks. They scarcely moved, scarcely seemed alive as they peppered the landscape. They were… expectant. The air almost crackled with their anticipation.
They waited.
He slowly looked around, scanning the nearby woods and then the sky. Dark thunderclouds massed in the far distance. Quickly. The wind picked up, carrying unintelligible whispers.
Guy’s brow darkened. He hesitated for only a moment before slowly opening his car door again. He removed the duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder, taking another wary look around. The ravens had not moved. They stared his direction as if petrified, onyx statues placed around the building to ward it from evil spirits.
Guy turned back to the building and saw the body right before it hit the ground like an overripe melon, fanning blood ten feet in all directions.
~*~
“Suicide…” Michael rubbed the back of his head, grimacing. The rest of the employees were either gathered in the front office or out in the parking lot, talking in subdued tones. The police had questioned everyone about their whereabouts when the event had occurred.
No one had been with Reese Campbell, the recently deceased.
The parking lot was crammed with police cars, along with a fire truck and an ambulance. For what reason Guy couldn’t imagine. There was nothing for them to do except clean up the remains.
“Looks that way. He had no reason to be up on the roof at shift change.”
“Maybe he fell off. Slipped or something.”
Guy knew that Michael didn’t believe that, but shrugged anyway. “Maybe.”
“I mean, Reese was an outgoing guy. Happy most times. Didn’t seem the type, you know?”
Guy gazed out the window at the policemen who conferred among themselves, looking downward just outside the office door. It was impossible to see from where he and Michael stood inside, but he knew that what was left of Reese lay there, nearly unrecognizable. A freefall from ten stories up onto the concrete…
“No one seems the type, Michael.”
“There you two are. I was, uh, looking for you.”
Rob was a bit jittery even on a good day, so it was no surprise that the mill supervisor was even more uptight right then.
“The police are letting the day shift leave. They’ve gotten all the info they need from them.”
“So they’re shutting the place down?” Michael brightened somewhat with the prospect.
Rob adjusted his glasses. “Uh, no. They’re going to curtail this section off for forensics and everything, but the rest of the mill is ok. We plan to keep running. The question is uh, whether you’re able to function or not. You know. Traumatic experience and all that.”
“Yeah, I’d say a fellow employee jumping from ten stories qualifies as pretty traumatic, Rob.”
Rob held up his hands defensively. “And I understand that. If you feel like you need to take the night off, it’s uh, perfectly permissible in this type of situation. That’s what I need to know. I’ll just have to call someone in to take your place.”
Michael looked at Guy. “What are you going to do?”
Guy kept his gaze on the emergency crews outside. “If I were you, I’d shut this place down, Rob. Right now. At least until we get some answers.”
“Uh… what? Why? I told you that the police cleared us to keep running.”
“Call it a hunch.” Guy frowned. “Something’s going on. I don’t think Reese killed himself.”
Michael stared. “You think he was killed? But everyone was cleared. They were all accounted for.”
“Doesn’t mean someone else didn’t do it.”
Rob ran his fingers through his hair. “The cops went through the building. There’s no one here but us. Like I said, if you feel as though you need the night off, just say so. It’s understandable.”
“And have someone else come in to all this mess? No. If you’re going to run, then I’m staying. But I think you should reconsider.”
“I already called the district manager. We keep running.”
“Fine.” Guy took another look outside. They sky was darker, smothered by cloud cover. He slung the duffel bag over his shoulder. “I guess I’m staying then.”
“I’m… I’m staying too,” Michael said. “Guy’s right. No need to bring someone else into all of this.”
“I appreciate it, both of you. Just take it easy and let the mill uh, run itself. All you need to do is make it through the night.”
Susurrus of Disquiet
"What are you still doing here, Fran?" Michael said as he walked in with the lab sample. "The police cleared everyone to leave."
Her answer was high-pitched laugh, almost a nervous squeal." I know, I know. While I was waiting I got caught up on all this paperwork. It just never ends, you know, with this SQF audit coming up…"
He reduced her droning to the corner of his mind as he ran the tests on the flour. It was clear that she hadn’t left because she didn’t have much else to do. He almost pitied her, spending most of her time at the job instead of doing… whatever normal women did in their free time. She definitely wasn't much to look at with her wildly askew sandy hair, equine face and protruding teeth. He was pretty sure she didn't have a boyfriend or anything.
She quickly looked down when he raised his eyes. He finished the sample and recorded his numbers. "So. Reese. Pretty crazy, huh?"
“I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “I guess I’m still in shock. I mean, he was just in here, laughing…” She shook her head. “It’s unreal. He just didn’t seem to be the type…”
“I know.” Michael sighed. “Look, there’s no point in hanging around here. Unlike us, you can go home.”
“I can’t believe Rob is making you guys work.”
“Well, it’s either us or someone else. We’re already here, so…”
“It wouldn’t hurt to shut this place down for one night. What an ass.”