…
I'm…really sorry for the long wait. Motivation issues and other projects have been keeping me busy.
Seeking Truth At A Restaurant
Chapter one: Mortar
TEN YEARS AGO
A knock came at the door.
Kyle Griffiths glanced up from his work. "Come on in," he called.
The door opened, and a pale thin man stepped inside the office. The visitor removed the fedora from his head, revealing dark hair and a face that looked to be in its early thirties.
"Good morning," Kyle said, rising and shaking the man's hand. "What can I do for you, sir?"
The visitor looked at him with an amicable yet mildly unsettling smile. "Good morning. You're Kyle Griffiths, right? The manager of this restaurant?"
"Yes, I am. To whom do I owe the pleasure?"
He reached inside his suit and took out an ID. "My name is Paul Mortar. I'm a private investigator. There are some things I'd like to talk to you about."
A private investigator? What was this about?
Maintaining his composure, Kyle nodded. "Have a seat."
"Thank you."
Both sat down. Kyle looked at the man inquisitively.
"… I won't waste your time, Mr. Griffiths," Mortar said. "I've heard interesting things about this place."
"The rumors?"
Mortar gave a smirk. "There's a bit more to it than mere rumor, Mr. Griffiths. I've spoken to some of your former night guards."
Kyle fell silent at that. The nightshift was…not a popular job at the restaurant. There had been more applicants than he could count, but none of them stayed for very long.
"They claimed you tried to have them killed," Mortar said. "And some…other ridiculous things. They all keep saying the same thing—something about those animatronic performers."
"Did those guards hire you?" Kyle asked curiously.
"No, sir; I just like to chase rumors in my free time—to see if there's any truth to them. I just happened to be in the neighborhood today, and thought I might visit this place."
"I see. I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you, though."
"Very surprising."
Kyle smiled. "Well, I'm never present during the nightshift, so I suppose I wouldn't know if there was something."
"Is there no camera footage?"
"Our cameras don't record after hours. It's a technical issue we haven't been able to fix."
"Why not just buy new ones? Or have your supplier take a look?"
"We did both, and nothing changed. The camera company is just as confused as we are."
"Hm-hm," Mortar said. He clearly wasn't convinced. Kyle couldn't blame him; he hadn't been immediately convinced, either.
Kyle smiled. "The only other explanation I have is that someone uses an EMP on them every night."
"Ha! A competitor, maybe." Mortar stood up. "Well, I didn't think there was much more to it anyway. I guess being locked up here all night with those animatronics can take a toll on a man's brain."
Kyle stood up as well and shook the investigator's hand. "If anything strange happens, you'll be the first to know," the manager said.
"Thank you."