- Raimi Mœnnesi -
I woke up, the sun had begun moving down my forehead and creeping down to my eyes. The analogue clock beside my bed read 24:76:88.
The morning news had been the same. Supposed kidnappings and disappearances happening around the country, and the war “reaching an all time high.”
The plain, oversized clothes I picked out today were grey, much like the overcast sky that hung over Tiiuer today. I sighed as I sat down in the driver seat of my old, beaten up sedan.
The drive to work was very long and dull, from the moment the engine started, I had been dreading the tedious drive.
Pulling into the back parking lot, I noticed my coworker Iura leaning against the back of the drugstore and smoking a cigarette.
The day was, as always. Boring.
The same monotonous tasks of handing over prescriptions and giving away fake smiles.
Before I knew it, my work day was over.
⍖
I woke up, the sun had begun moving down my forehead and creeping down to my eyes. The analogue clock beside my bed read 24:92:51.
The morning news had been the same. Supposed kidnappings and disappearances happening around the country, and the war “reaching an all time high.”
The clothes I picked out today were black, and my size. Although not fitted, they certainly looked better than the oversized grey long sleeve I wore yesterday. I sighed as I sat down in the driver seat of my old, beaten up sedan.
The drive to work was very long and dull, from the moment the engine started, I had been dreading the tedious drive.
Pulling into the back parking lot, I noticed my coworker Iura leaning against the back of the drugstore and looking down at her phone.
“Nice look, hell of a lot better than yesterday.” Iura’s bright, slightly high voice sprung up. I looked up at her cold, uncaring scarlet eyes—they were staring directly into mine.
The day was, as always. Boring.
The same monotonous tasks of handing over prescriptions and giving away fake smiles.
Before I knew it, my work day was over.
⍖
I woke up, the sun had begun moving down my forehead and creeping down to my eyes. The analogue clock beside my bed read 25:05:91.
The morning news had been the same. Supposed kidnappings and disappearances happening around the country, and the war “reaching an all time high.”
The clothes I picked out today were indigo-grey and beige. It was a Friday, and we were allowed to wear casual things on Fridays. I sighed as I sat down in the driver seat of my old, beaten up sedan.
The drive to work was very long and dull, from the moment the engine started, I had been dreading the tedious drive.
Upon exiting my car, I noticed my coworker Iura leaning against the back of the drugstore and texting someone, perhaps it was the boss, perhaps it’d be someone else entirely. Her clothing today was red, although not as saturated and dark as her eyes were.
“Nice colour.” My voice came out slightly hoarse. Yesterday I had to give a presentation about business at Uni.
The day was, as always. Boring.
The same monotonous tasks of handing over prescriptions and giving away fake smiles.
Before I knew it, my work week was over.
----------------------------------------
The day started as any other would, the red text on my analogue clock read 89:66:61. I smacked the top of the clock to see if it would fix itself—although the hit resulted in nothing.
I panicked, immediately getting out of bed and looking for my phone; the previous weekend night of drinking wine and calling my elder brother to talk had made me lose track of where it was. After some 10 minutes of tearing my apartment apart I found it nestled in between the cushions on the small couch I had in the living room. Pressing the power button made the screen glow to life, in the centre of the screen was the time; it read “34:75:16”
Getting ready in a rush was something I was particularly bad at. Something I prided myself on was the fact that I’d always be awake a reasonable amount of time before having to do something, be it work, or university. I hastily brushed my long dark brown hair and grabbed a cup of tea before opening the door to my garage.
The car ride to the Ireoll drugstore was uneventful, although a group of anti-war radicalists firebombed a cell tower—disrupting my music midway through. Glancing into the car's rear view mirror, I noticed the dark grey eyeliner I’d put on today was somewhat messy; and my ocean blue eyes had bags beginning to show underneath them. My black eyelashes were naturally long, same as my brothers—although I didn’t get our mother’s grey eyes like he did.
As I came into the small town of Tiiuer, I saw all of the local businesses beginning to open. Rush hour was beginning to die down, as people were reaching their places of work, I sighed as I turned onto Hauri Drive, the street that Ireoll was on. Upon stepping through the backdoor of the drugstore, Iura noticed me and started to speak:
“Hey, where the fuck were you today? You didn’t call in.” Hearing Iura’s bright, nearly childlike voice say a profane word shook me for a second.
“Apologies.” I let out a reply dry enough to match the flatness of my voice. I gave a half smile to Iura and started getting into uniform. After slipping on my prussian blue vest and black slacks, I grabbed a pair of blue medical gloves and a standard medical mask. I waved to my district manager, who was present today—precisely the reason I needed to be here on time today.
“R-rai-mee Moh-neh-sei?” The middle aged man standing before me tried pronouncing my name, obviously it was wrong; but I stayed silent for a moment.
“Ehhhhh. Not quite,” I tried putting more emotion into my tone, it still sounded slightly monotonous, but I gave it my all. “It’s Rai-mee Meuh-neh-see. You can just say my first name, I don’t really mind.” And with that, all the emotion I forced into my voice slowly bled out.
“Right.. Alright, what’s with the no call no show today? Fore told me about it.” Right down to business, huh? His tone went from slightly playful to serious at the drop of a hat.
“My apologies Mr. Meseata. I was visiting my elder brother last night and ended up sleeping at his place. It’s a really long drive.” I lied as naturally as I breathed, staring at my superior's feet and giving a light bow.
“I see, well, you better not make it a common thing that happens. I’ll have to scold you more later, I have a meeting with your supervisors. Do good work today.” As he was talking, his tone slowly shifted from stern to warm, as soon as he left the room I let out a sigh of relief. Today wasn’t looking the best so far.
⍖
The time was 63:72:11, the day has been uninteresting, say for an encounter I had at around lunch time.
“Thank you for your patronage.” I gave a bow to the person in front of me, they had a medical mask and a long, dark grey hooded coat on; the hood and mask concealed their face. After they walked away towards the front door I noticed a card that had been left on the countertop, I tried calling out to them, but by the time I looked back up they’d already left the store.
I picked it up and took a closer glance at the card, it was dark black, with a texture akin to that of a computer circuit board. There was a phone number written in dark grey at the bottom of the card, it nearly blended in with the surrounding colour. Other than that, there were no other outside details, just a plastic card with a number attached.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
This card gave me an intense feeling of unease—and a truckload of questions: Was it meant for me? Why didn’t the hooded person say anything? What will happen if I call the number?
Without waiting another second, I pocketed the card, staring up at the security camera on the roof. It had been broken, and it was getting fixed tomorrow, I still felt as if someone was staring at me; my anxiety was beginning to spike. By the time the next customer walked up I was still jittery, stuttering my question:
“H-hey.. What’s your name and date of birth?” My voice was shaky, the man in front of me was elderly—his friendly, homely tone calmed me down a bit.
“Ohh I’m not here for my own prescription, here to pick up for my wife. Her name is Diifa—Diifa Tithke, and she was born 13,007, Avtola 14.”
As I typed in her information, my mind couldn’t stop focusing on the card in my right pants pocket. It remained that way for the next two hours, causing a few slip ups.
“Hey Raimi, what’s wrong?” Fore’s deep, gravelly voice came from behind me, causing me to flinch and turn around. His eyes were filled with concern, and his short black hair was messy; I spat out a quick reply.
“Nothing, nothing. It’s fine, mind if I head out? I have a uh.. an appointment at 70 I got to make.” I ended the sentence with a slight smile, trying to play off my unease. His expression didn’t waver, he just gave a nod and told me to have a good day. I quickly got out of my work clothes and walked out the back to my car. Upon sitting down in the driver's seat, I grabbed the card out of my pocket, staring at it, taking in all of the detail, or lack thereof.
⍖
After getting home and parking my car in the garage, I sat down on my small couch; setting the card on the glass coffee table top and grabbing my phone. I shined a light onto the card's black, shiny surface and started dialling the numbers. With every number entered, my anxiety rose. By the last number, my hands had begun to sweat. I swallowed my anxiety and hit the green call button.
“When does the world end?” A feminine, monotonous voice answered on the other end of the line. I was confused, and I responded in a slightly unsteady tone.
“What.. what do you mean?” After ending the sentence, silence followed. There was nothing for another minute straight, then, the monotonous voice came back.
“Look at the card closely, then call again.” After the last word left her mouth, the screen displayed ‘Call Failed.’ A second later I was looking into a black mirror. I had a thousand yard stare for some twenty seconds before snapping out of it and grabbing the black card laying on the table. The card was thin, I shone my phone light over all of it, after a minute of looking for something.. anything, then I found it. Within the cards' embossed lines, there was text. It read:
“The world ends on a quiet weekend.”
- Rea Mœnnesi -
The day had started at 30:06:91, I was already up; my morning was strict. Last night, my sister called me. I lied to her again. Telling her I worked as a treasurer for the prefecture—yeah right. I worked for the government, sure, but I worked for the Abnormal Occurrences Unit. It was an unmarked unit designed to observe and take care of threats not known by the public.
“Hey Rea, Lane wants to see you.” My coworker, Kinaei, spoke to me in a slightly condescending manner. While we were on the same position on the job ladder, everyone could tell Kinaei was favoured among all of us. I said thank you and got up from my desk, walking up the two flights of stairs to Lane’s office. The headquarters for the Abnormal Occurrences Unit was a large manor that hadn’t been marked on any country or world maps. Obscured by thick foliage and trees, it was the perfect hideout. I knocked on the slightly oversized wooden door.
“Rea Mœnnesi, I assume?” A posh, raspy voice came from behind the door, “Alright, come on in.” He continued. I twisted the worn iron door handle and saw an older man sitting behind a red wood desk. His hair was slowly becoming grey, and his neatly trimmed beard had begun turning grey as well. He donned a dark navy two piece suit with a small gold pin; It had a singular eye atop a needle, the pin was lodged into an oval—presumably the world.
“Sit down, I won’t bite,” Lane let out a toothy grin. I obliged and sat in one of the two chairs in front of the ominous desk. “As you might understand, there have been some.. disappearances happening in the town of Tiiuer. I’m assigning both you and Kinaei to investigate it, Hisa has been deep in this case for a matter of weeks, so she’ll give you a debrief.”
I gave a nod and started walking out, as I reached the door Lane added something else:
“I expect good things to come out of you, Rea; don’t let me down.” I was looking away, but I could tell he had a sly grin on his face. I nodded to the wall and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind me.
⍖
The three hour drive to Tiiuer was very boring, I’d been given a temporary place to live courtesy of the AOU. All of my belongings were to be moved to the new place immediately. By the time I reached my new place of work, the time was 33:61:99. I stepped out of the car and walked up to the front door of the police station.
“Hey, got any business in here?” The young police officer spoke with an accent, I reached into my pocket and showed him my government badge. He examined it for a few seconds before telling me I was cleared entry into the facility. As I walked through the door, I looked down at my phone. On my ride over, Hisa had texted and told me how to access the secret room hidden above the third floor—by entering a strict series of button presses in the elevator.
3-1-1-1-2-1-2-3. That code stuck itself to the forefront of my mind. After entering the code, the elevator stopped in place for a few seconds before moving upwards. As it went past the third floor, the red text at the top of the doorway lit up, I was on floor X. The stainless steel doors slid open, since this wasn’t a normal part of the building, the doorway inside of the room had been decrepit, and old. The wood frame of the door being decayed and unmaintained, the planks had burrs sticking out.
“Finally made it to this shithole huh?” A low, nearly androgynous feminine voice came from the other end of the room. As I stepped past a cabinet, I saw the area where we would be spending our time.
The room was rectangular, with a window facing north; opening up the curtain revealed the glass to be cracked, a shard missing from the bottom right of the frame. The singular torn, maroon curtain hung on a pathetic beaten up brass curtain rack. There was a newer, fibreglass desk facing the east side with a few case files lazily placed on it, various papers were laid next to each other, at a glance I could tell why; the victims were all people without many relatives or friends. Sitting at the south side, where the elevator was, was a large oak wooden cabinet, it obscured the room from the doorway. And at the centre of the room was an island built into the building itself, although beaten up, it seems to have been maintained better than the rest of the room; I’m assuming because of Hisa’s intervention.
“This place really is a shithole eh? No A/C either, can’t wait to burn alive once the days start to get hotter.” People told me my voice was stern, and very business-like.. whatever the hell that means.
“Alright, guess we just have to bide our time until Kinaei gets here huh?” I thought out loud, Hisa didn’t respond, she looked annoyed at the thought of having to work with others. I let out a tongue click and took off my pack, grabbing my old job-issued laptop out and setting it on the island.
⍖
Nearly an hour later, Kinaei finally showed up. He walked into the room and immediately started mentioning the messiness, and overall lack of care given to it.
“What the fuck is this? They really expect us to work here? In this shithole?!” Nice. I shrugged and tilted my head over to Hisa, her brown, nearly black eyes sitting on brown skin; she had a deep scar right below her left eye.
“Alright, now that both of you are here, may we begin the discussion?” I nodded in agreement and pulled a chair out from under the fibreglass table; Kinaei came and sat down next to me.
“From what we know, the victims are all people without many connections. Easy targets for kidnappings, you could say. Skimming through captured security camera footage reveals all of them being given something.. we don’t know exactly what. However, in all of the footage, the person giving this object to the people is dressed in all black, with a medical mask to conceal their face. They never speak, and always pay with a credit card.”
As Hisa droned on, my intrigue grew. Who was this person? Or perhaps, group of people? Why was privacy valued so much to the point of concealing all forms of personal identification?
This was beginning to feel more and more like something relating to the occult.
- Raimi Mœnnesi -
The time was 89:88:11. I was standing outside of an abandoned laundromat on the outskirts of town. It was family owned, but had been shut down due to other bigger companies moving into Tiiuer.
The voice on the phone told me to come to this place.. and not to be followed. I felt on edge, I had left my car parked a good three kilometres away. I brought a small kitchen knife with me, tucked away in my right coat pocket; I felt my grip around its handle tighten. The sound of various insects and birds filled the empty late night air, the sound of the cars on the road was barely audible.
To calm myself down I looked up towards the stars, considering I was in a derelict, old part of the city, there was little light pollution to obstruct the stars. I started counting them, it was ultimately a task in vain, but I needed something to keep my mind at bay. After counting to sixty, I heard the wheels of a car down the street. I whipped my head back towards the end of the road, and I saw a large black SUV heading in my direction. My grip around the knife’s handle had now gotten so tight that it hurt. Time seemingly slowed, I watched as the SUV crept closer and closer to me.
As the SUV slowed down and started parking within the barely visible white lines of the lot, I looked into the passenger side window, I could make out a woman with short dark hair in the passenger seat, and a tall bald man driving. The backseat windows were tinted pure black, I couldn’t see through to the other side of the SUV.
As the woman opened her door and stepped out, I saw what she was wearing. A long black overcoat, the top three buttons were undone, and I saw that she was wearing a black turtleneck underneath. On her face were a pair of sunglasses, they were circular and appeared to be made out of gold. Her skin was fair, and her face was slightly angular. She was also tall, maybe half a head taller than me, and I’d been the tall one in my family. As her black boots thumped on the ground, she asked me a question:
“When does the world end?” The same voice from the call earlier. I was frozen up for a second, still in shock over the fact that this was really happening.
“The world ends on a quiet weekend.” My voice was almost as monotonous as hers, although mine was filled with anxiety and fear.
“At dusk? Or dawn?” A question that she told me the answer to earlier. I reached into my memory for the answer.. it was..
“At dusk, during the morning it’s too bright to get anything meaningful done.” My voice echoed off of the side of the brick walls next to me. The air was tense, and quiet—as if all of the birds and bugs were waiting for the woman's response.
Without a second warning, she grabbed my right forearm tight and yanked it out of my pocket, revealing the knife I held. Fuck. Shit, shit shit sh-
“Heh, you got some nerve girl.” Her voice cut through my thoughts as if they were warm butter. I didn’t move an inch, I had stopped breathing altogether. I felt her grip on my forearm loosen, and the air came back to my lungs. I took a deep breath in, staring at the woman in front of me.
“Throw that through the window and follow me.” I followed her command and grabbed the knife by the blade, flinging it through the air and breaking the dusty glass of the laundromat. After the knife left my hand, I fell in step behind her, watching as she opened the back of the SUV and motioned for me to get inside. I watched her closely and stepped into the back of the car, it was completely empty, say for a black pelican case in the trunk.
“We’re going to be driving for a while, can you close your eyes for me?” I was confused, she hadn’t yet shut the back door. I swallowed my anxiety down and closed my eyes. Breathing through my nose before feeling a damp cloth get pushed against my lower face.
⍖
The next time I was conscious, I was in a wooden bed. I sat up quickly, panicking for a second before seeing where I was.
I was in a stone room, with a small slit for a window to the outside. Hanging in the centre of the chamber was a small lantern attached to a long chain. Next to my bed was a nightstand, it had a note stabbed into the table by a large serrated hunting knife. I ripped the knife out and read the note.
You’re in too deep to go back now
You’re one of us
Welcome to POLARIS
End of Chapter 1