For context, I recently moved to a mid-sized town in Colorado, only a few short miles from Denver. My fiancé Gabrielle and I moved there for my job as an engineer, which we were happy to do. We wanted a fresh start, and it’s a big change from rural Iowa. Our house is a typical suburban house, something you’d see on the cover of one of those home decor magazines. Everything has been relatively normal, that is until this morning.
I woke up earlier than usual, so early the sun had barely risen. I turned to face my fiancé, but she wasn’t there. Her side of the bed was a mess, as if she was in a rush. I thought it was odd, since she didn’t until late morning most days. Her side of the bed was also cold, as if she hadn’t been in it for hours. I chalked it up to nothing, hoping she was just in the bathroom. We tried a new restaurant the night before, and her stomach isn’t really made of steel. However, as I got ready for work, she was nowhere to be found. I thought it was odd, but nothing to get freaked out by. As I walked downstairs, I heard the distinctive sound of dishes being put to use. This also struck me as odd. Gabrielle never cooked. I walked down a bit more cautiously, the rising sun illuminating the stairs. I rounded the corner and peeked over at the kitchen, and to my surprise there she was, making breakfast. I walked up to her, confused.
“Morning!” She smiled cheerfully. “How’d you sleep?”
“Fine.” I said. Although it was comforting to see she was alright, her cooking was still confusing. Not only that, but it smelled good. I looked over onto the counter to see a meal directly out of a commercial. The plate of pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast looked almost unnatural. I turned to her, a little stunned. “Where did you learn how to cook like this?”
“I taught myself in my free time,” she said as she kissed my cheek. Her lips felt cold. “I was hoping to surprise you next week on our anniversary, but I just couldn’t wait!”
“Well, it looks phenomenal.” My earlier confusion was washed away, and I was at ease. I kissed her. “You always find ways to surprise me.” She smiled as I sat down at the table, ready to enjoy the meal she had prepared. She brought over the plate with all its perfect food, but before I could dig in, she stopped me.
“Oh wait! I almost forgot the drink!” She ran over to the counter and grabbed a mug, something that hadn’t caught my eye before among the amazing food. She set it before me, smiling. Her eyes seemed wide in anticipation. I peered into the mug, taken aback by what I saw. Black sludge, appearing thick and mucus like. I looked in disgust.
“Uh, Gabs, what is this?” The oily liquid bubbled as I stared at the mug.
“Oh, it’s a new drink I’ve been trying! I picked some up at the store a few days ago.” She seemed unfazed by the mug, the eerie liquid glistening under the light of the rising sun. “I tried some last night after the restaurant to clear up my upset stomach. Honestly, it may be the best thing I’ve ever tried.” I looked back at the sludge, truthfully appalled by its appearance. But I smiled, trying to keep her feelings from getting hurt. I looked at my watch, feigning disappointment.
“Oh shit Gabs, I’m so sorry.” I started for the door. “My boss wanted me to come in early for this new project. I’ve gotta go, but save the food! I’ll come back and eat it for lunch.”
“What about the drink? Aren’t you going to try it?” Her demeanor shifted, almost instantly, and suddenly she was near tears.
“I’ll try it at lunch, don’t worry.” I forced a smile, hoping to make her feel better. “When I get back, we can have some together.” She lit up, again almost instantly, and her tears disappeared.
“Ok!” She exclaimed, full of joy. I kissed her, made my way to my car, and practically peeled out of the driveway. As I left, I saw her standing in the window, smiling and waving as I left. Despite her unusually wide smile, her eyes seemed cold, void of any of the happiness displayed on her face.
As I parked the car and headed to the elevator, I couldn’t help but feel uneasy. The events of that morning had freaked me out, but I didn’t know what to do. Something about her actions seemed so off, but I couldn’t think of any valid reason for her behavior. She was acting normal the night before. I thought about the drink, and all its disgusting stature, but I brushed it off. I thought it was another one of her health drinks she tries every few months. In retrospect, at that point I was grasping for straws. I was too confused and honestly frightened to really piece together any sort of meaningful reason to how she was acting. As I exited the elevator, and saw my boss serving the same drink to my coworkers and colleagues, I knew something was very wrong. He shot up, face twisted in the same wide smile I had seen this morning. He walked over to me, paper cups in hand.
“Hey there! Beautiful day isn’t it?” His eyes lacked the same excitement as his voice. I smiled, nodding cautiously in agreement. He held one of the cups up, beckoning me to drink. I politely declined, and made a beeline for my office. I locked my door right after entering, not sure what the hell was going on. My office is mostly comprised of glass panels, facing the ocean of desks in front of me. As I sat down, pretending everything was fine. My gut turned, unsettled by everything that had happened. I found myself trying to work, trying to bury my fear into whatever product we were developing. I was hoping it would comfort me, allow me to take my mind off the drink and all the weird behavior surrounding it. Just then, I heard a tapping on my wall. It was Greg, one of the new hires. His face was fixed in a wide smile, a few drops of black liquid stained his front teeth. He kept knocking, his smile unmoving.
“Now’s not a good time Greg,” I yelled, trying to keep my voice from shaking. “I need to finish up these emails.” He nodded, turned around, and walked away almost robotically. His movements were stiff, as if walking was an unnatural contortion for him. As he left, I scanned the desks, hoping to see something normal. I did not. I watched as my coworkers drank the black sludge, sipping it as if it were their normal coffee. Their smiles were equally grotesque, each not matching their dead eyes. The few that had not yet drank the liquid were quickly coaxed by the others, and the same smile overtook their face. Completely frightened, I decided it was time to leave. I quickly grabbed my things and hurried out of my office, bolting to the elevator. Just as it was closing, my boss’s hand grabbed the door, knuckles white. He stared at me, eyes unmoving. The same smile still stuck to his face.
“Where do you think you’re off to? Lunch doesn’t start for another hour.” His voice oozed cheerfulness. “At least try some of this before you go.” I stared at the same paper cup he raised before, liquid still bubbling as if it were freshly poured. He held it out, eagerly awaiting me to take it. I tried to again politely declined, but he wasn’t having it. “Come on, just try a sip at least. It’s probably the best thing I’ve ever had.” I noticed that while this was happening, my coworkers had gathered around outside the elevator, all smiling and echoing the same praise for the drink.
“Look,” I stated, “I haven’t been feeling too great today, so I might just head home and try to get some rest.”
“Oh it’s fine,” He exclaimed, “just have some of this. It’ll fix you right up!” He and the others were becoming impatient, all trying to convince me to take a drink. I kept insisting that I shouldn’t, or that I would try it later, but no dice. Eventually they all started shouting, becoming angrier after each statement.
“Come on, just drink the fucking thing you pussy!”
“Dude just drink it you’ll feel better!”
“Stop being such a bitch and drink!”
At this point I was beyond scared. I shoved my boss back, subsequently pushing him and my other former coworkers back long enough for the doors to shut. I stared at the door, shocked by what just happened. When I reached the parking lot, I sprinted towards my car as fast as I could. I needed to get out. As I pulled out of the lot, I looked up at my floor. All of my coworkers stood at the windows, watching as I hit the gas. They were no longer smiling.
As of now I don’t know what to do. I’m sitting in my driveway, car on, sharing this story. My fiancé is smiling at me through the window, drink in hand, begging me to come in. She keeps texting and calling, trying to get me to come try the jet black sludge. What should I do? I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. I can’t help but think maybe the drink really is that good.