The ad said, HELP WANTED – Personal assistant to a blind man. Two weeks whizzed past without so much as a phone call, then Riley showed up asking whether the position was still available.
I brought her inside and gave her a rundown of the job. Told her it was mostly standard PA stuff: answering calls, making coffee, that kind of thing.
“Sound good?” I asked.
“That sounds yes.”
She had a peculiar accent. Meant I couldn’t get a feel for where she was from. I asked a few personal questions, to try teasing the information out of her.
“I am from outside town,” she answered. “I work before. Yes.”
Her way of speaking was all over the place. It almost sounded as if she was asking a question each time she opened her mouth.
“One more thing,” I said, “I’ll need you to read to me. Does that sound alright?”
“Yes. Chance English improve.”
Seeing as Riley was the only applicant, I hired her on the spot.
We worked in a small brick building that was more like a house than an office. She’d spend most of the day behind a little desk that served as reception, filing paperwork and answering calls. Then, before closing time, she’d read the newspaper aloud while I cast my fingers over braille documents. Early on she asked for a spare set of keys, which I didn’t see any harm in.
Riley was a terrible assistant. But since replacing her would be a huge pain in the ass, I kept her around. I could point to a million things she did wrong. Like how the office sometimes smelled like spoiled meat on Monday mornings. I’d open the front door and immediately wretch. I repeatedly asked her to stop leaving food at her desk. She promised it would ‘never happen again’ six times.
She also moved things around without asking. I knew the layout of the entire building like the back of my hand. I’d memorized the number of steps needed to navigate each room and the position of all the furniture. Hell, I could even tell you which floorboards creaked. When you can’t see, you become hyper-aware of that sort of thing. I insisted she left things the way they were.
I first heard about the missing kids on the radio one evening. At that point, four had disappeared. It put the whole town on edge—even my own Mom made a big fuss about it. She called to say she was worried I’d be in danger because I was an ‘easy target’.
“It’s okay,” I said, “I’ll start carrying a knife.”
In truth, I’d already been carrying a knife. Got the idea after getting mugged while waiting on a train. Mom wasn’t happy, but she knew I’d insist on doing things my own way. I’d always hated relying on others.
Things came to a head in mid-summer. One humid Thursday afternoon, the AC was on the fritz, which meant the office turned into a damn oven.
I thought, screw this, I’m closing up early. The paperwork could wait. I went through to reception to tell Riley she could go home. She wasn’t there. No big deal, she was probably in the bathroom. I went to grab my coat off the hanger, felt around, and touched a strange fabric. I didn’t know what the hell it was.
Next thing I heard the bathroom door open. Riley shrieked. She ran towards me, making a wave of clicking sounds. Click, click, click. The clicks became more and more like normal footsteps as she crossed the room.
She ripped the fabric out of my hands then stormed off, slamming the door on her way out.
I figured she’d slipped off her blouse to cool down or something. There wasn’t any harm in it. We were closed for the day, so nobody was gonna walk in, and I certainly wasn’t gonna catch a glimpse of anything.
I locked up then headed home, still chuckling to myself.
The next day, I left flowers on Riley’s desk. Mostly because I didn’t want the hassle of finding another assistant. I lied and told her what a great asset she’d been. Told her I’d hate to think she was upset. She said thank you.
Without meaning to, I asked, “Would it be alright if I touched your face?”
It just slipped out. I’d been curious what she looked like since a few clients remarked on her ‘odd’ appearance. From what I could surmise, she was super pale and kept herself wrapped up in multiple layers of clothing no matter the weather.
She didn’t answer.
Attempting to seem like less of a creep, I added, “It helps me build a mental picture of something if I feel it.”
More silence.
“Forget I mentioned it.”
The next day, Saturday morning, I woke up to a frantic phone call from one of my clients. An order hadn’t been placed—the paperwork I’d blown off—and there’d be hell to pay if it wasn’t fixed.
I said, “I’ll be at the office in half an hour. I’ll call you when I get there.”
In no time at all, I was on a train headed towards town. The people in the seat next to me were discussing the latest missing kid—a boy who’d vanished the night before on his way home from playing baseball with his buddies.
I reached the office, unlocked the front door, and stepped inside. The hallway was filled with a horrible, nauseating stench. More spoiled meat. Even worse than before. I made a note to speak with Riley about it.
I crossed through the hall and had barely stepped into the reception when I heard a low sound. I stood perfectly still.
“Hello?”
There it was again. Almost like a gurgle. It came from the space to my left. I moved towards it, slowly.
A rasp. Now whatever made the sounds was directly in front of me, close to the ground. A cold tingle of sweat ran down my forehead.
“Is somebody there?” I asked, my voice cracking.
After a deep breath, I reached down. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I touched something warm and clammy. The moment I did, the thing stirred.
“Mrplp mre.”
I flinched, then scrambled towards the door, ready to race outside and call the police. But then I realized what the voice was trying to say.
Help me.
I regained my composure and kneeled down. Gently. I probed around until I touched something coarse. Hair. I was touching somebody’s head. My heart rate accelerated.
My hands traveled downward, finding a set of eyes and a nose. It was a child, sprawled across the floor, their mouth caked with something flaky that broke down between my thumb and forefinger. Dried blood.
I probed around and found a baseball cap. It was the missing boy.
The kid’s hand lazily nudged my chest. My throat tightened. I clasped his hand in mine, reached out, and touched his face again. His mouth opened and closed like a fish.
“It’s ok,” I said. “I’m going to get you some help.”
He tried to speak, but only managed a rasp. I leaned in close.
He took a labored breath. “Run.”
“Run?” I paused. “Run from what?”
He grabbed my shirt collar and pulled me in close. “Mon…ster.”
Cold liquid dripped onto my forehead. I stifled a yelp. All of a sudden, I became aware of this horrible, horrible presence directly above my head.
Carefully, I stood and extended my forefinger towards the ceiling. I prodded something rough and bristly. The texture was so fine my fingertip tickled, sending a chill down to the soles of my feet.
The thing wriggled from side to side. I gulped.
I made no noise. From above there came a steady pattern of breathing. Near as I could tell, the thing was asleep.
I grabbed for the child’s feet. Instead, my hands sunk into mutilated stumps. I gulped, suppressing the panic.
I grabbed him by the thighs and then dragged him across the floor, quietly.
Before long we were almost at the doorway. Four more steps and we’d have been in the hall. From there, it would only take another thirty to get us outside.
But suddenly, the phone on Riley’s desk rang. In the quiet building, it was startlingly loud. The child groaned, as though he was waking up from a long sleep.
Back in the room, something moved.
Click.
“Hello?” I whispered.
Click.
The kid screamed. Still unsure what was happening, I dragged him into the hall as fast as I could. Back in the room, clicks traveled across the ceiling almost like a staccato. It was the sound of limbs moving in quick succession.
The clicks followed us through the doorway, into the hall. There was a sharp whistling sound, like a whip might make, then the kid’s stopped screaming.
Before I could reach forward to find out what happened, warm air filled my left ear. The thing was right beside me.
I spun on my heels and rushed towards the exit. The clicks passed over my head—click, click, click—then stopped. I froze, sensing a presence blocking my path.
The thing dropped onto the ground. Gracefully. I fought the rising panic in my gut.
Clicks advanced upon me, getting louder and closer. I pressed my back against the far wall.
The creature leaned in close. “I am most regretful you had be here.”
My jaw popped open. “Riley?”
There came the sound of a whip motion so swift I probably wouldn’t have seen it if I had a working set of eyes. Something jabbed me. I cried out—more from surprise than anything—then my head drooped forward.
Next thing I remember is waking up to the most horrendous feeling imaginable. It was like a grenade exploded inside my damn skull. For a second, I couldn’t remember what happened or where I was. I tried to feel around but couldn’t. My body was numb.
In front of me, a bone snapped. A moment later, there came a crunch, followed by chewing. I stopped breathing.
“Ah, already you are awaken?” Riley said. “Sting lose potency, I should think.”
My sense of balance was out of whack. It almost felt like being on an airplane during a nasty bout of turbulence.
I found my way to my hands and knees, pins and needles shooting through my entire body.
Riley’s voice traveled across the room, accompanied by more clicks. “I want to say thanks to you. For providing job. It have been wonderful learning opportunity about humans.”
Each time I tried to stand I fell on my face.
“What the hell’s going on Riley?” I stammered, my words tired and slurred. “Where’s the kid?”
“Before you.”
My arms sprawled across the floor, connecting with something solid. All I could do was bat my hands against it, like a cat pawing at a toy.
“What is this?” I shouted.
“It what left of child.”
It was an arm. Just an arm. I fell backward, my heart pounding against my chest. Riley chuckled as the clicks circled around me.
“It is time I must move on. People here most suspicious. Had to make sure I remove all trace of child.”
Crunch. Riley swallowed the last chunk of the kid.
“I will travel North. Big city there.” She stopped in front of me. “Plenty of food, I trust.”
She leaned in close. “And with sadness, I take you as snack for journey.”
A knot tightened in my chest. I opened and closed my fists several times. With each attempt, my co-ordination got a little bit better.
“But first, I grant parting gift. By way of say thank you for generosity.”
Two limbs closed around my wrists and forced my hands forward, unrelenting. Riley was making me touch her face. My mouth went dry. By now the sensation had returned to my hands, so I could feel every horrible detail.
She guided me towards where her mouth should have been. There were no lips. Just long, curved fangs. I was practically paralyzed with fear. She directed my hands upward. I felt a large set of bulbous eyes and shivered.
I wriggled my toes and flexed my chest.
“What you think? Is good?”
I still hadn’t regained complete control of my body but there was no time left. If I didn’t want to end up like the kid, I had to do something. And fast.
I gulped. “Riley?”
“Yes?”
I took three deep breaths. “You were a really, really shitty assistant.”
Using all the strength I could muster I jabbed my thumbs straight into her eyes, creating a sickening squelch. Riley shrieked.
With a sudden motion, a heavy limb connected with my chest. I became airborne, landing on a hard wooden floor.
Riley moved around, still shrieking. Her clicks hurried across the central space.
“Where are you?” Her voice sounded loud and furious. I’d blinded the bitch.
Still dazed, I pulled myself up using the nearby wall and probed around. Pain shot through my ribs. I had no idea where I was, and it was only a matter of time before Riley caught me. This was the end.
But then, at the far side of the room, a phone rang. We were in the reception. I estimated my position using the sound. The door was roughly six steps forward and ten to the right. I could make it out alive—I just had to stay away from Riley.
I traveled across the room, avoiding all the creaky floorboards. Riley screamed for me to reveal myself. When her clicks cut across my path, I backtracked and sidestepped.
I reached the door, grabbed the handle, and pulled. Locked.
Riley must have heard the mechanism jiggle because the direction of her clicks changed, making a B-line towards me. I dived out of the way a moment before she collided with the door.
She shrieked again, even louder this time.
I crept along the outside of the room, careful not to give away my position. Riley stopped moving and fell silent. She’d regained her composure. Not good.
A passing wave of numbness caused my legs to buckle. I hit the ground. Hard. With several clicks, Riley turned towards me.
“I promise this be painful.” For a split second, the space above my face almost tore in half as another limb whizzed right past. “Normally, I give little jab, you not feel thing. But not this time.”
Panic built in my gut. As I crawled backward, something dug into my lower back. I reached around—my knife. Riley hadn’t taken it.
The clicks closed in on me. I thought fast, picturing my position in the room and how it might help me.
I spun onto my front, then slipped off my shoe and hurled it sideways. Bang. It struck a filing cabinet pressed up against the wall to my left-hand-side. Bullseye.
Riley pounced. A moment later, she collided with the cabinet. Hard enough to put a giant dent in the side, judging by the sound.
Before she could recover, I grabbed my knife out of the holster, leaped forward, and landed on her back.
Riley shrieks became an unearthly groan as I stabbed the knife into her back again and again. Her cold, coarse flesh scratched against my skin. She stood up straight and thrashed around, trying to shake me off. Fully extended, she was almost the height of the ceiling.
Beneath me, Riley’s body retracted and shrunk, almost like she was molding into the shape of a human. I stabbed her one last time. She collapsed with a whimper, tossing me aside in the process.
The back of my skull collided with the wall. Blood gushed out of my head. Still groaning with pain, Riley crawled, then staggered toward the door. I can only assume she’d regained her vision by now. She unlocked it then exited the room. There were no clicks—only footsteps.
I wanted to follow her, but my body wouldn’t comply. I felt myself getting sleepy. Very, very, sleepy.
I woke in a hospital bed. After failing to reach me for over an hour, my panicked client had driven down to the office and found me lying in a pool of my own blood.
He figured I’d tripped over and hurt myself. So far as I could tell, there’d been no sign of either the kid or Riley. My list of injuries included a four-inch split in the back of my head, two broken ribs, and a hell of a lot of bruises.
I tried explaining what happened to the nurses, the doctors, and later, the police. They all said the exact same thing:
“Were you taking any illegal substances before injuring your head?”
No matter what I said or did, nobody believed me. Not even my own mom. Eventually, I just gave up trying to convince them.
After recovering from my injuries, I returned to work. Months passed.
One afternoon my new assistant was reading an article about children disappearing in the city sixty miles North. Nine kids had vanished in three months. Authorities suspected whoever was responsible for the local abductions had relocated.
My assistant stood. “Is that everything for today?”
I nodded.
Before they could exit the room, I said, “Actually, there is one thing: could you go ahead and cancel tomorrow’s meetings? In fact, better clear out my whole week.”
I pulled on my jacket. “I’ve got business to attend to upstate.”
--
Dictated using speech-to-text software.