The fluorescent lights of the Manchester warehouse hummed with a monotonous buzz, a sound that usually faded into white noise for Lauren; tonight though, tonight felt different, it felt amplified, a discordant drone that mirrored a growing sense of unease in her stomach; she was nineteen years old and stuck on the nightshift, she was usually unfazed by the cavernous space but tonight was different.
It was 02:17 A.M. – the air was thick, still; tasting faintly of cardboard and dust, Lauren was stacking boxes of textiles, the rhythmic thud a counterpoint to the humming lights, typically she would have music playing, but tonight it felt as though would have been a betrayal, an invitation; an invitation to what?; she didn’t know that, but the hairs on the back of her neck prickled with premonition.
She paused, wiping the sweat from her brow; the silence pressed in, heavy and stifling, she glanced about for a moment, row upon row of towering shelves stretched into the darkness, their contents shrouded in shadow; but everything was in its place, neat and orderly; as it should be.
But then, she saw it.
A small, almost imperceptible movement; a stack of peanuts – the kind that clung stubbornly to everything – it had shifted, not dramatically, just enough to disturb the perfect symmetry of the shelf; Lauren frowned, she was meticulous, especially on nights like this where boredom threatened to consume her, she would never leaving anything askew.
Shrugging it off as fatigue, she reached out to straighten the bags; as her fingers brushed against the plastic, she heard something – a faint rustle, it was barely audible above the humming lights, she froze, her heart hammering against her ribs, it sounded like…., fabric.., fabric dragging.
She whirled around scanning the aisles; nothing, just an empty silence, and the expectant darkness “Hello” she called out, her voice wavering slightly despite her best efforts, only the echo of her voice answered
Swallowing hard, she returned to her work; but the feeling of being watched intensified, it was cold, prickling sensation that crawled across her skin, making her breath catch in her throat.
She began noticing other things; a box that had been neatly aligned, now angled slightly to the left; a shadow, fleeting and indistinct; dancing at the edge of her peripheral vision; each subtle shift, each ephemeral glimpse; it chipped away at her composure.
Once, as she bent to pick up a stray piece of tape, she saw it; she saw it clearly, a long slender shadow stretched out from behind a stack of fabric bolts, almost reaching her; it vanished just as quickly as it had appeared.
Lauren straightened up; her blood ran cold, this wasn’t fatigue, this was something else entirely; something…., wrong.
She grabbed her phone from her pocket, her fingers trembling so badly she almost dropped it; 03:47 A.M. hours remained until dawn; hours until that familiar, comforting feeling of the presence of her daytime colleagues.
She scrolled through her contacts, her thumb hovered over her dads name, he was a light sleeper; he’d answer – but what would she say? ‘Dad I am scared because a shadow is stalking me in a warehouse?’ she could hear it already, a moment of concern before the gentle dismissal
Instead, she typed a message to her friend on the day shift; detailing what she was experiencing; then she deleted it, she didn’t want to sound crazy.
She knew she had to do something; she couldn’t just stand there, paralyzed by fear, taking a deep breath, she decided to go and check the security cameras; the monitor room was at the other end of the warehouse, a trek that she was now dreading.
Clutching her phone, she started to walk; her footsteps echoing eerily in the vast space, every shadow seemed to lengthen and twist; every sound amplified and distorted, she passed a row of boxes, her eyes darting from side to side, searching for signs of movement.
As she reached the monitor room, she noticed a strange scent in the air – something metallic and faintly sweet; it made her stomach churn.
She fumbled with the door; pushing it open quickly and stepping inside, quickly slamming it behind her, and with the need to feel safe, she found herself locking it; the room was bathed in a pale glow from the monitors, casting long dancing shadows along the walls; she sat down in front of the bank of screens, her heart was pounding.
She started rewinding the footage, her eyes scanning each screen for any signs of an intruder; nothing – just her, working alone; the warehouse silent and still, then she replayed the last hour, and she watched herself.
She watched herself stacking boxes, oblivious; she watched as she jumped at shadows, then, she watched herself…, talking…., talking to someone, that clearly wasn’t there.
Her breath hitched; on the screen, she could clearly see that her lips were moving, her head tilted as if listening; but there was nobody there, it was just an empty space, except, it wasn’t empty; not on the monitor; watching the footage, she saw something stood inches away, behind her at all times, a shadowy hunched figure, it was barely visible, moving slowly with her – it matched her movements
She realised, she wasn’t alone – she had never been alone, whatever had been with her, it was not human; as she started checking the cameras again, she scanned for something to stand out; and finally, she found it, something stood staring at the camera, it wasn’t hiding anymore, it knew she had seen it; she was horrified; she wasn’t staying, she wasn’t completing her shift; she was getting out, and she was getting out now., she didn’t want to stay, she didn’t know what it wanted, but she wasn’t staying to find out.
She only needed to reach the fire exit; it wasn’t far from the room she was in; if she ran, she would certainly make it – that is what she did, she unlocked the door, and bolted – she did not look back as she crashed through the fire exit to get clear of the warehouse.
Stood by a window, the figure watched, it watched her disappear into a panic along the empty streets
Written By: Westley H.
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