Chapter 4: The Incident
Waking up on this new day, I was more excited than ever. It was the day after everything we had ordered arrived. One of our "friends" from our senior year of high school invited the four of us to one of the local clubs for her birthday tonight. Her name was Meadow Blair. She was one of those in the popular crowd who joined after we were forced into that box by society. Even though Meadow's snobby attitude hadn't changed much since high school, Tess had convinced us that this was an opportunity to break out of the monotony. "We need to get out of the house. Do something spontaneous," she'd said with the kind of conviction that made it hard to argue.
Now, Tess was standing in the middle of her walk-in closet, an expansive space that seemed to have more clothes than I thought anyone could wear in a lifetime. She rifled through the racks with practiced precision, holding up dresses and discarding them with a shake of her head.
"Carlos, what are you going to wear tonight?" she called out, her voice tinged with both excitement and impatience.
I groaned, running my hands down my face. "Ugh, I still need to figure that out," I admitted, slumping back against the couch.
Raymond, sitting across from me with his feet propped up on the coffee table, chuckled. "Same, bro. At least you've got time. Tess is gonna force us into full-on makeovers if we're not careful."
"That's not a threat; it's a promise," Tess shot back with a grin, tossing a shimmery gold dress over her shoulder.
"Same here!" Hannah called out from the bathroom she shared with Tess. The sound of running water and the faint smell of shampoo drifted out as she worked on blow-drying her hair.
The house was alive with the frenetic energy of preparation. Every room seemed to hum with activity, from the living room where Raymond and I were trying to muster the motivation to decide on outfits, to Tess's closet where an avalanche of clothes threatened to spill onto the carpet.
"What about this?" Tess suddenly appeared, holding up a sleek black jacket that looked like it had been tailored for a red carpet-event.
I raised an eyebrow. "For me or you?"
"Both. It's called versatility, Carlos."
Raymond shook his head, muttering something about "Tess and her fashion sermons" before grabbing his phone and scrolling through it lazily.
By late afternoon, the chaos had subsided slightly. Each of us had finally pieced together outfits worthy of Meadow Blair's birthday bash. Tess had chosen a midnight-blue dress that sparkled under the light, paired with silver heels that could probably double as weapons. Hannah went for a more understated look with a flowy maroon top and black leather pants. Raymond settled on a classic white button-up and jeans, while I finally caved to Tess's suggestion of a dark green blazer that brought out what she called my "smoldering eyes."
The club was packed by the time we arrived. Music thumped in waves, vibrating through the floor and into our chests. Neon lights painted the crowd in shifting colors, and the air was thick with perfume, sweat, and the sharp tang of alcohol. Meadow spotted us almost immediately, her perfectly styled hair and glittering dress making her look like she belonged on the cover of a magazine. She waved us over, her smile as polished as ever.
"You made it!" she exclaimed, enveloping Tess in a quick hug before air-kissing the rest of us. "The night's just getting started!"
We grabbed drinks and mingled awkwardly at first, sticking close to each other like a pack of nervous schoolkids on a field trip. But as the night wore on, the music loosened our inhibitions. Tess dragged Hannah onto the dance floor, their laughter cutting through the pulsing bass. Raymond found himself in a heated debate about sports with one of Meadow's friends, while I leaned against the bar, sipping my drink and taking in the scene.
And then, the incident happened.
It started subtly, almost imperceptibly. A tense exchange of words near the VIP section. A man's voice, raised above the music, sharp and accusing. Meadow's expression shifted from carefree to flustered as she tried to calm him down. We couldn't hear what was being said, but the body language spoke volumes—gestures that were too aggressive, an arm reaching out to grab hers.
Tess noticed first, her dancing faltering mid-step. "What's going on over there?" she asked, her voice tight with concern.
Raymond and I followed her gaze. "Looks like trouble," he muttered, already moving toward the scene.
By the time we reached the VIP area, the situation had escalated. The man—someone we didn't recognize—was visibly drunk, his movements erratic. Meadow's friends stood frozen, unsure of what to do.
"Hey, is there a problem here?" Raymond's voice cut through the tension like a knife. His calm but firm tone made the man pause, if only for a moment.
Meadow shot us a look of both relief and embarrassment. "It's fine, he's just… had a bit too much to drink," she said quickly, trying to laugh it off.
But it wasn't fine. The man's gaze shifted to Raymond, his expression darkening. "Who the hell are you?" he slurred, taking a step closer.
Before anyone could respond, the man swung. It was a clumsy, drunken punch, but it caught Raymond on the shoulder, knocking him back a step. Chaos erupted. Security swooped in, the crowd scattering like startled birds. Tess and Hannah pulled Meadow away, while I stepped between the man and Raymond, my heart pounding in my chest.
"That's enough," I said firmly, my voice steadier than I felt. The man glared at me, his fists still clenched, but before he could make another move, two bouncers grabbed him and hauled him away.
The aftermath was a blur of apologies and explanations. Meadow's gratitude was profuse, but the night was effectively over. We left the club in a somber silence, the earlier excitement replaced by an unspoken unease.
All of a sudden, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I quickly pulled it out of my pocket and looked down at the screen. It was my mom!
"I'll catch up with you guys in a bit, I have to deal with something real quick!" I called out to my friends as they were heading back to the car.
"Alright, we'll be waiting!" Tess smiled in my direction.
I moved to the front of an alley by the club to answer my mom's text.
Mom: How's your Friday night going?
CRASH!
I jumped at the sudden, loud noise that erupted from the alley nearby. Before I could respond to my mom, I saw three figures emerge from the shadows!
Shit, I'm outnumbered. I groaned in my head.
I instantly recognized one of the guys that stepped forward. It was the guy that was causing a scene with Meadow! I didn't recognize the other two that were standing behind him at all.
"Looks like Mister Tough Guy over here is finally alone!" The guy from the party slurred with a cackle. The other two guys chuckled alongside him.
"L-Look I don't want any trouble". That's all the words that I could let my mouth form without a stutter.
"Too late", the guy replied darkly. It sent shivers throughout my body.
I bolted to their left, so I could get away from the guys who cornered me. As I slipped away from their clutches, I felt something sharp knick my left arm! I looked down and my arm started to bleed! I started to panic because I couldn't tend to it right away.
"You can't get far now!" I heard the guy cackle and then I heard footsteps running behind me!
Shit! I need to fucking lose these freaks! I panicked to myself as I was running.
I saw an abandoned pizzeria down a back road that was kind of close to the main road.
Yes! I'll just hide there until it's safe. I was planning this out in my head as I ran.
Unfortunately, the front doors were locked.
Shit! Not now! I continued to panic.
I ran around the back, and to my luck, the loading dock door had a small opening that I could slide under. As I was creeping through the loading dock area and towards the door that lead into the pizzeria itself, I heard them! Their footsteps sounded like they were in front of the giant door that I slid under! Quickening my pace a bit, I carefully walked into a hallway of the pizzeria. The first thing I saw was this some kind of security office. It didn't look like any ordinary office though. It had two massive steel blast doors on either side of the entrances of it.
That's weird. I thought to myself.
I froze when I heard shuffling coming from the loading dock area behind me!
"Dude, this place gives me the fuckin' creeps. I don't think he would be smart enough to hide here", I heard one of the guys tell the other two.
"Yeah, but there was fucking blood in front of the big door! He's got to be here!" The guy who was from Meadow's party yelled at his lackeys.
I dove underneath the office desk to hide from my assailants. Both the group of guys and I froze when we all heard thumping noises and the sound of mechanical whirring from the hallway I was just in!
"Shit! We got to go!" One of them yelled drunkenly.
I heard the three guys who were trying to find and hurt me go back under the big loading dock door. The eerie silence that followed their departure only made the sound of the mechanical whirring more ominous. My breathing was shallow as I pressed myself further under the desk, every instinct screaming at me to stay hidden. Whatever had made that noise wasn't human—and it was still close.
The thumping noises grew louder, rhythmic, and deliberate, echoing down the empty hallway outside the office. My heart raced as I tried to peer out from beneath the desk, but the angle didn't give me a clear view. All I could see was the faint glow of a flickering light spilling in through the doorway.
Then it spoke.
A deep, distorted voice, metallic and uneven, called out:
"Who's... here?"
I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp. The voice wasn't natural; it sounded like it had been dragged through static, almost like an old animatronic trying to function after years of neglect.
The whirring was now accompanied by the sound of dragging metal, like something heavy being pulled across the floor. I could feel the vibrations through the thin metal desk I was hiding under.
I wanted to bolt, but where would I go? The blast doors looked like they could trap a tank, and the only way out was the way I'd come—right past whatever was out there.
"Don't be... shy..." the voice crooned again, followed by a sharp, grinding sound that sent chills down my spine.
My phone buzzed in my pocket, the vibration deafening in the stillness. I flinched, fumbling to silence it before it could betray my hiding spot. My mom had sent another message, but I didn't dare open it.
A shadow passed by the doorway.
I froze, not daring to even blink.
The figure moved with jerky, unnatural movements, its joints squealing faintly with every step. As it edged closer, the flickering light illuminated its grotesque form. It was an animatronic—but not like the polished ones I'd seen in commercials or at the mall. This one was old and decayed. Its paint was chipped, and wires dangled haphazardly from its limbs. Its faceplate was cracked, revealing a mess of circuits beneath one of its hollow eyes.
It paused just outside the doorway, its head twitching unnaturally as if scanning the room.
My fingers dug into the floor as I fought the urge to scream.
"Why... hide?" it rasped, its voice laced with static.
Then, as if sensing something, it turned its head sharply in my direction.
I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted blood.
The animatronic stepped into the office, the dim light catching the exposed wires that trailed from its chest. Its glowing eyes swept the room methodically, searching for any sign of movement.
It was only a matter of time before it found me.
But then, as suddenly as it had entered, it stopped.
The sound of heavy footsteps echoed faintly from the loading dock. My pursuers—were they fucking coming back?
The animatronic's head jerked toward the noise, and for a moment, it froze entirely, its glowing eyes fixed on the doorway. Then, with a loud, mechanical groan, it turned and stalked out of the room, heading toward the sound.
I didn't waste a second. As soon as it was gone, I scrambled out from under the desk, my movements as quiet as I could manage. My arm throbbed, the blood from the cut dripping steadily onto the floor, but I couldn't stop to tend to it. I had to get out of there.
I peeked into the hallway, making sure the animatronic was gone, then slipped back toward the loading dock. The group of men must have been drunk or stupid—or both—because they were shouting at each other just outside the door.
"What do you mean, something's moving in there?" one of them said, his voice shaky.
"I'm not going back in there, man. Screw that!"
Their fear was palpable, and for once, I was grateful for their cowardice.
Taking a deep breath, I pushed through the loading dock's small opening, careful not to make any noise. They didn't even notice me slip past them.
Once I was back on the main road, I broke into a sprint, ignoring the pain in my arm and the burning in my lungs.
I didn't stop running until I was back in the crowded streetlights of the main strip, where the noise of the city drowned out my pounding heartbeat.
I leaned against a lamppost, pulling out my phone to text my mom back.
Me: Fine. Just a little busy. Talk soon.
I hit send before sliding my phone back into my pocket.
Whatever that thing was in the pizzeria, it wasn't my problem anymore. Or at least, that's what I told myself.
But deep down, I knew the image of its hollow, glowing eyes would haunt me for a fucking long time to come.