Alley Catacombs of Mystery

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Published 3/27/2023
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I exhaled a long, smoky breath into the night air as I sat on the edge of my bed. The light from the moon shone through my window, casting an eerie glow across my face and bare chest. I stared at myself in the mirror for a moment before reaching for my pack and pulling out a cigarette. My hands moved deftly with practiced ease as I lit it and inhaled deeply. The smoke swirled around me as though it was dancing to a song only my lungs could hear.

I watched myself in the mirror as I exhaled again, and then again until I'd finished the cigarette. I stubbed it out next to all the others in the ashtray on my nightstand, then turned off the lamp by my bedside and slipped beneath the covers. My eyes fluttered shut, but sleep didn't take me right away; something was making me restless tonight.

I wasn't sure what time it was when I finally managed to drift off into a half-dream state, but judging by how dark it was when I opened my eyes again, it must have been early morning. There were two silhouettes standing before me in the dim light; both of them were hunched over and seemed to be carrying some sort of sacks or bags with them. Their heads were downcast so that all I could see were their backs: one was tall and spindly, dressed in brown pants and a white shirt. He had long hair that hung down past his shoulders, not unlike mine. The other figure was shorter than him, wearing black from head to toe, and had hair that matched his garments; he looked like he might have been bald beneath his black cap. Neither of them spoke a word as they made their way out of my room and down the hall toward where they presumably slept.

I stared at their retreating figures for a moment longer before deciding that whatever it was must have been just a dream after all - nothing more than a figment of my imagination caused by too much work and not enough sleep lately - so I rolled over to go back to sleep again when I heard something fidgeting near the foot of my bed. When I looked over, there was nothing there, so I shrugged off what would have been a terrifying experience if this hadn't been my own home and went back to sleep once more.

* * *

The following morning at breakfast in the kitchen with Teresa (the slim woman in black who had let us into her house last night) and Royce (the portly man dressed entirely in brown), Doctor Alonso asked about our evening out together yesterday at dinner at La Ristrante della Gola del Diavolo ("Devil's Throat Restaurant") where we met up with Mr Farina (the man with long hair who wore brown pants). After listening intently to their descriptions of the evening, Aliester (the detective who smoked cigarettes) revealed that he had seen Mr Farina leave his house later last night while he was smoking on his balcony; he hadn't thought anything of it until Teresa told him about when they had shown up at her house at such an early hour yesterday morning.

"But why do you think they would be leaving so early in the morning?" Aliester asked after finishing his account. "Are you sure they weren't just heading out for an early jog? Maybe they're just trying to get an earlier start on their day? What time did you say they showed up here?"

"They came around oh-three-hundred," said Teresa after taking another bite from her fruit salad bowl. She explained that she had gone downstairs to see why she'd heard someone knocking on her door earlier last night, only to find Mr Farina standing outside with his travel bag slung over his shoulder; he said he needed to get some things from her house before heading out somewhere very important that day. After hearing about what happened last night, she assumed now that he'd left for wherever he needed to be going much earlier than expected because of how early it was when she saw him leave her house earlier today.

"That still doesn't make any sense," said Royce as he took another bite from his ham sandwich; flecks of mustard dotted his lips. "Why would they need to get there so early if they don't even leave town until lunchtime? So why did you guys see them again yesterday evening?"



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This is a work of fiction, assisted by artificial intelligence. Any names or characters, businesses or places, events or incidents, are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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