ISLE 3: Chapter 1

 

‘ get out of bed… its already 7 o clock… come on… just do it. One leg, other leg, easy as that’

Melody closed her eyes, it was Saturday, for god’s sake, and she still had to get up at 8 o clock.

‘ …unless you wanna lose your job and walk papers, it’ s all up to you’

with a slight groan she opened her eyes and  dragged herself out of bed, her whole body felt heavy like she wore a diver’s wetsuit. With bottles. On a hot day. 15 miles from the beach.  ‘ oh Michel is gonna love me’ the closet door opened with a bang, and she jerked at the sound. ‘ he better makes me employee of the year.’ She mumbled while pulling on a Slash fanshirt. It was a female model and it had cost her 40 bucks. ‘ and totally worth it’ she thought with a slight smile.

the silence of a Saturday morning still lingered in the house as Melody tiptoed down the stairs. Her mother and brother were still asleep. Lucky bastards. But no, not her, she had to go to her job at the small local supermarket.  There were 2 supermarkets in the little town of Beckersville.  One was a modern one, big with a lot of iron and glass called Harlson’s Megamarkt. The other one, Stew’s Market, the one she worked at, was the smaller one, famous because of their “oldschool good quality” and that kind of stuff. Team Harlson versus team Stew’s, the only thing close to a war that the sleepy town of Beckersville had ever known.

she looked at the clock in the light, white kitchen.  On the left was the actual kitchen, with the oven, fridge and that kinda stuff, on the right you had this kind of dead space, reanimated with a old leather chair and a painting of a meadow with sheep, she liked that painting, it was very light and detailed. The sheep seemed to follow her with their heads as she approached the fridge, turning them her back. It was not like she needed breakfast, but if she wanted to survive till noon lifting boxes of food, baby-wipes and what not, she better ate something now. Toast, toast was good. She thought as she grabbed a couple of bread slices and put them in the iron toaster, while trying to avoid looking at her reflection in the thing. It was way too early.

 

After finishing her breakfast and trying to fix her messy brown hair (and winning the fight by putting it into a tight ponytail) it was half past seven, and time to start with the half-hour drive on her bike till the store.  Once there and dressed in her light-blue working jacket and name plate (“ my name is Melody Ryder, how can I help you?”  very original.) and walked to the back of the store. The store itself really focused on the oldschool feeling of knowing your customers and treating them like family members, and was mostly white with yellow-ish lights. But once you passed the plastic door with the stereotypical round little window in the back, it was like stepping into another dimension: grey walls, big, and a lot of alleyways, leading from the place where the truck dropped of the new goods till small offices where men and women seemed to be constantly typing and calling. In a strange way, it reminded her of Alice In Wonderland. The Grey Maze Of Stew’s, sounds scary enough.  And don’t eat the pie, or the Despicable Michel would come and drag you to his cave. This Michel just approached her in his own light blue working jacket, looking at her with this look of I’m-your-manager-obey-me. He had a kind face, really, but appearance wasn’t everything. ‘Melody, you are going to refill isle 3, but first come with me, I need you for a minute in my office.’

‘ eh…’ her sleepy thoughts worked slowly as she blindly followed him. Like the sheep in the painting.

He walked in front of her with big steps and led her to a part of the store she had never been before. Slightly amazed she tried to keep up with him, every hall seemed endless and way too long for a little store like this…

 

He walked faster and faster and now she had to run to keep up with him. ‘ where is your office?’ she asked with a slight nervous tremble in her voice. ‘ not far from here.’ was the answer.

She knew she was starting to fall behind, and suddenly he disappeared around  a corner. At the time she reached the same place he was already gone.

Panic grabbed her throat as she turned around and walked the other way. Dead end. Next alley, was that a plastic door? She ran through the cold grey hall. No, just a office door, like she had passed a dozen times. She started to get claustrophobic. ‘no calm down and get a hold of yourself, you’re in a fucking market, no need to lose it like…’ she frowned as she listened to her thoughts passing by. ‘…like you want to?’ no. that couldn’t be right. Why would she want that? ‘confusion?’. Of course, people tend to lose it when they got scared, claustrophobic and confused, but still…

She was now in a hall with only one door, at the end. ‘probably Stew’s Secret To Succes’ se thought as she slowly approached it. Her cold sweaty hands closed around the doorknob, a weird shriek from inside as she opened it.

She gasped  when she saw what’s inside: and old man in a wooden chair, his skull was visible through his thin white hair and his skin looked liked dry paper. He opened his bloodshot eyes and she saw them widen in fear. ‘ no… don’t… I beg you…’ a weak, low  trembling voice came out of his mouth. She approached the man with the same caution she had approached the door. ‘im not here to hurt you… I just want to get out of here. Im lost.’

The man looked at her for a few seconds, as she tried to let her eyes speak; please… help me… im lost…

‘Listen, whatever you want, you’re at the wrong place… Melody, at a very VERY wrong place. Turn around and… and get out before they find you’

 ‘but I can’t find the exit’

‘me neither’

He looked at her with his old experienced eyes and she understood that it was time to go. Without him.

‘okay… goodbye I guess’

The old man just waved and sunk a little deeper in his chair. She slowly locked the door behind her and looked around. Still alone. But now she didn’t dare to scream anymore; the words of the old man had scared her. Something was here… and it didn’t came to give her a kiss and a hug.

She turned around and took the left, when a sting of happiness seemed to bright up the whole situation: a few metres away she saw the back of Michel, and it was standing still, like he was waiting for her to come.

“im sorry but I lost the- oh god!,, her stomach made a bunch of loopings and she leaned heavy on the wall. What was looking beyond her with glassy eyes what was left of him. It looked like someone had grabbed an axe and hit him everywhere he could. On the floor, dripping from the leaking blood, lay what she recognised as organs, fallen out of the ripped-open stomach.

A dark mist appeared in the corners of her eyes, and instinctively she knew she was about to faint.

(okay… no…no, not okay, gotta... gotta get outta here…) she tried to get up again, but she was too fast and got pushed over the edge…

 

Melody’s mouth felt dry and a headache was pounding  above  her right eye, she just wanted everything to be over, no more bloody corpses, endless wandering around or granpa’s in chair’s. just rest…

Whispers  on the background, shoes shuffeling over the cold floor. Whatever the old man had warned her for, it had found her.

when she opened her eyes a sharp yellow light blinded her., she was back in the market!

(of course, she had never really left, right?) After a few blinks a white board told her that she was lying on the floor in isle three, together with a few packages of coffee beans and cereal.

“uhh…,, she got up and looked around, people were busy cleaning the other isles. It was probably time to close already.

confusion and fright fought for the first place. She never left…? Maybe she had fallen asleep, maybe Michel wasn’t even here? A hysterical little chuckle escaped from her throat. Think about it, options, we need options, Mel, what about…  hallucinations? Comforting. But at the same time a bit too close to bat-shit crazy for comfort. What about… confusion because of claustrophobia?  Yeah, that would do it…

“you didn’t think you escaped, did you?,, a low voice whispered softly in her ear.

her eyes widened and her heartbeat raised in a record time. Before she could turn around, someone pushed her, face to the ground.

A cry escaped her mouth as the blood dripped down her face. “don’t turn around, the moment you turn around, you die.,,

A smack in her ribs, she screamed, but no one listened. Why not? Couldn’t they see what this freak was doing to her?

“why? Why did you have to go there?,,

“I… Michel…,,

“turn around.,, he grabbed her shoulder and made her turn around.

the old man had grabbed her with enormous strength. He didn’t even look like an old man anymore, more like a demon-man hybrid. His eyes were red and the veins on his hands seemed to have changed colour, from blue to pitch-black.

“peek a boo.,,  an evil grin stretched out is mouth and revealed fangs much bigger than any mouth she had ever seen, and for once in her life, she didn’t dare to come up with a dentist-joke.

Her mouth formed words she didn’t hear, her head full of thoughts she didn’t answer, and after the man raised up his hand, now a claw, and attacked, her lungs were full of air that would never be breathed out again.