Closing Time...A Short Disturbing Story

"You know," Todd said to Amber as the two left work. "A guy died in this very building fifteen years ago."

Amber stopped at the restaurant's back door.

"No way," she said. The college junior had already endured two psych classes and an immersion German class before working a six-hour shift at the restaurant. "You're BS-ing me just to freak me out."

"No, really. His name was Jim--my brother even knew the guy. They were in high school together," Todd said, a smile Amber saw through the darkened hallway crossed his lips.

"Stop it," she said. "I'm not in the mood."

And she wasn't. A headache that had simmered just beneath her forehead all day decided at that moment to grow in strength. Hearing about how some guy died in the building where she worked was the last thing she needed. After all, Todd was always talking crazy. She knew her co-worker--ten years her senior--had a slight crush on her ever since she began at the restaurant three months earlier. 

Still, Todd had lived in the college town his whole life, and she'd only arrived three years earlier. If anyone knew about some guy dying, Todd would.

"Okay, just thought you'd like to know about what happened."

Todd followed Amber out of the door. It swung closed and the cool October air seemed to grow colder at the sound of the door's lock catching. Amber breathed in deep, the cold air slightly freezing her lungs.

"Where'd you park?" Todd asked.

"The lot was full when I pulled up, so I'm parked at the gym."

"I'll walk you to your car--"

"No," Amber said, even though she hated going to her car alone in the dark.

"It's okay," Todd said. "I want to."

"All right." The two set out for Amber's Subaru parked a half block away. They walked in silence, the only sound coming from their shoes on the recently rained-upon sidewalk. Finally, curiosity got the best of her.

"So, how'd the guy die?" Amber asked as they rounded the gym's building and her car came into view.

"What? Die?"

"Yeah, you were--"

"Oh, Jim at the restaurant. No, it's probably best you don't know about that."

"No way," Amber said and stopped. Todd walked two steps before he stopped, too. "You can't just blurt out that some guy died where I work--where I sometimes I have to be alone when I'm closing up--and then not tell me what happened."

Todd walked back to Amber. "You sure?" he said, stopping in front of her. His six-foot, four-inch frame towered over her. Amber felt a chill caused by more than the cold air.

"Yup. I want to know."

"Okay, but you're not going to like it."

"Why's that?" Amber asked.

"Because if I tell you, then you and I will be the only ones who will ever know the truth about what happened, and that will be a problem."

"A problem, how?" Amber asked, genuinely confused.

"You see," Todd said looking back toward the restaurant. "When a person is killed at the hands of another, then there's only one person left who knows what happened. And when two people know, well...we can't have that now, can we?" 

Todd's smile returned, only this time it masked something else.

Amber turned and ran toward her car as fast as she could.