| Fiction |
WHISPERS IN THE DARK
Whispers in the dark is a weekly short story in which weird
is the norm. An exercise in strangeness, the stories are
never to be taken too seriously, but should never be taken
too lightly. For if you lay awake long enough in the dark,
you’re bound to hear a whisper sooner or later.
Overtime
By Aaron Hall
Trent had to squint to make out the time on the clock in his
office. It was 9:30 pm, five hours after he was supposed to
get off work. He looked at the incomplete budget reports on
his computer screen and let out a long sigh. The rest of his
co-workers had left many hours before, but it was looking
like Trent had a few more hours before he was going to be
finished up. He picked up the picture on his desk and looked
at it longingly. It was a picture taken a few years ago of
his wife and then young son. Oh how things change, he
thought. His wife was now bed ridden with cancer and his son
was… what was his son? In a rebellious phase was how Trent
usually worded it. Upon turning sixteen his son had
seemingly thrown all respect for his parents out the window.
He seemed more interested in causing trouble and listening
to loud rock music than he did in taking care of his sick
mother or doing well at school. Trent hoped it was just a
phase. He knew that his wife could use the support of her
son. He also knew that a lot of his son’s rebelling probably
had to do with never seeing his parents, but Trent couldn’t
afford not to work overtime. The medical bills had put them
deep in debt and even with all of his extra hours Trent and
his family were barely scraping by. Trent realized that he
hadn’t yet called home and told his family how late he was
going to be working. He grabbed the phone and dialed the
number. Upon one ring the answering machine picked up, which
Trent found odd since the machine usually didn’t pick up
until after 8 rings. The voice on the recording was deep and
muffled. It was totally unknown to Trent. His throat went
dry with panic as the message played.
“Working late again Trent? You made it so easy to kill them.
Not sure if it helps or not, but they didn’t suffer. Well,
maybe they did just a bit.”
With a beep the message ended. Trent dropped the phone and
ran for the door. He came flying out into the parking lot,
running faster than he had ever run before. As he jumped in
his car he found that he couldn’t even keep a thought in his
head. He just knew he had to get home. He put his key in
quickly, slamming on the accelerator as soon as the engine
turned over and speeding out into traffic. He zipped in and
out of the forty mile per hour traffic. He felt like he was
driving in slow motion, so he was surprised when he looked
down to see the speedometer reading 85mph. He was even more
surprised when he looked up just as he ran a red light at a
busy intersection. He tried to swerve, but it was too late.
As his car slammed into the side of a van Trent realized he
had been too panicked to remember to put on his seat belt.
He died on impact.
At his house, Trent’s son sat by the answering machine
laughing about the new message he had recorded to mess with
his father. That’ll teach him to work late and ignore me, he
thought to himself. He had heard the phone ring a few
moments ago and knew it was his dad calling to say he wasn’t
going to be home for many more hours. I bet my message will
get him to come home, his son thought. He sat and watched
the front door and waited for his panicked father to come
running in. He couldn’t wait to see the look on his face
when he realized he had been tricked. It’s what he gets for
ignoring me, he thought bitterly. He looked up at the clock,
calculating how much time it should take for his dad to make
it home.
Little did he know that, thanks to his cruel joke, his dad
wouldn’t be making it home ever again.