The Chosen: Chapter 2 - They are Coming

Harold’s old bones were tired.

He looked wearily at his wrist watch.  

Seven-thirty five p.m. 

Twenty five more minutes before quitting time.  Finally, his day was almost at an end.    

 

Slowly pushing the cleaning cart in front of him down the darkened corridor, Harold shuffled towards the supply closet.  His brown uniform " one size too big - hung loosely from his narrow shoulders, making him appear more frail than he actually was.  His slim frame, thinning gray hair, and deep wrinkles were actually false advertisement.  He was old and thin, and he did move slowly at times, but he was in fact in excellent physical condition for his age.  

 

Harold had just one more room to clean before he could leave, but he needed more desk cleaning spray.  He had used damn-near half a bottle in the last classroom, cleaning the blasted graffiti off of several desks.  And it had taken him nearly thirty minutes to scrape all of the gum off of the underside of some of the desks.  He had half a mind to leave an angry note for the teacher, and ask her why she wasn’t watching her students more closely.  But he knew there was no point, it really wouldn't make a difference. 

Damn teenagers, they had no respect at all for school property.

Harold reached for the large circular key ring that hung from his belt, and was fumbling for the key to the supply closet, when he heard a hollow thud from within the closet.  He immediately stopped searching for the key, and looked up at the door in front of him, with a puzzled look on his face.  He had locked the door earlier that evening when he had retrieved the cleaning cart and mop. 

He was sure of it.  

He had started locking up all of the supply closets and utility rooms last year after he had caught a couple of teenagers hanging out and smoking cigarettes in the boiler room.  No one could have gotten into the supply closet.  He had locked it like he always did.

      

He turned his head slightly, aiming his good ear at the door and listened carefully.   No sound came from within the closet.

 

A bottle of cleaner must have fallen off of a shelf, he thought.

He shrugged off the noise, and reached for his keys again.  

He found the correct key, and slid it into the lock.  As the key turned there was a clink, as the mechanism engaged, and he gave the door a slight shove with his shoulder.  The door often stuck, and usually required a little extra encouragement to open.  This time the door opened easily and swung open swiftly, hitting the interior wall of the closet with a loud thump.  

He returned the key ring to his belt, and reached into the dark closet for the switch.  His hand slid along the wall, but before it connected with the switch, he heard a slight rustling coming from the back of the closet.  He froze, and scanned the deep shadows that claimed the back of the closet, looking for any movement. He didn’t see any.

  

It didn’t make any sense.  The closet had been locked, he was sure of it.  

Then it occurred to him that when the closet door had hit the wall it had probably rattled the shelves, causing something to shift or tip over.  So he continued to sweep the interior wall with his hand until it connected with the light switch.  He flipped the switch and was completely unprepared for what he saw when light flickered on.

 

The contents of the closet had been disturbed.  Actually, disturbed wasn’t quite the right word to describe the state the storage closet was in.  Ransacked was more like it.  Harold stood in the closet doorway,  his mouth agape, his eyes wide with disbelief.  

It was not possible. Not possible.  How in the Sam Hill….

Then it hit him.  Someone must have gotten a hold of his keys and made a copy.  The keys hung just inside the door to the main office during the day.  It would have been fairly easy for one of the older students to get one of the keys, make a copy, and return them before anyone even noticed they were gone.

 

That had to be it.  Damn teenagers, they were always messing with him.  

 

His shock quickly turned to anger and irritation.  

 

Now he had a real mess to deal with. 

 

There were bottles of cleaners everywhere.  They were knocked over, and some of them had fallen to the floor, their contents leaking everywhere.  Then he noticed the old paint cans that had tipped over.  Some of them had come open, spilling the school’s colors - red and white - all over the shelves below. 

So much for getting out on time. I'll have to call Mildred and let her know I am going to be late tonight.  

He knew from experience that if he didn't let Mildred know he was running late, that she would be cross with him, and she would never let him forget it. He loved his wife dearly, but her incessant nagging damn-near drove him crazy.  He was always careful to go out of his way and do whatever was necessary to avoid her tirades, and to keep the peace.  A happy wife is a happy life, as the old saying goes.  The saying was Harold's gospel - absolutely and unquestionably true.

                 

Harold was about to turn around and head to the Main Office to call Mildred, when he noticed something that made his blood run cold.  On the far wall of the closet was a note. Someone had dipped something, probably their finger, into the spilled red paint and had written on the wall.

 

It wasn’t the fact that someone had written on the wall that had caused Harold's heart to skip a few beats.  It was what they had written on the closet wall that had caused him to take a couple steps out of the doorway, and back into the hallway.

 

Written on the wall in dripping red paint was the simple phrase, They are coming...

It wasn’t just the cryptic message itself that sent his heart into palpitations.  It was that he had seen this phrase before, many years ago.  

         

It had been a long time, but it was not the first time Harold had seen these words. It was not the first time he had found a mysterious message that had been left for him to find.

 

He had thought it was over and he had prayed that he had seen the last of it.  But the words on the wall called out to him, and he realized with a mounting sense of dread that it wasn’t over and that he hadn’t seen the last of it.

 

In fact, it was just the beginning.

Author's Note

Please leave comments and feedback!!! I will add additional Chapters as they are written, so stay tuned...

Reviews

[matrixmark]

So the title to this chapter had me thinking of what to expect and I wasn't disappointed. Ilike this harold character, you have introduced him well, giving the reader a good picture of what he looked like plus an idea of what type of character he was, as he cursed the kids for the gum incident. I know sometimes its tediousto put all these details in but it builds the character up inside the readers mind - foundations are everything - Harolds character was built strongly.
I enjoyed the build up towards the closet scene - very well laid out.
Happy wife is a happy life - Ihave never heard of that before, but it mademe smile and really felt that it was the type of thing Harold would think or say. 'Mildred' was a perfect name pick for his wife and felt a natural choice - Good work.
And then you bring out....'they are coming' and introduce more intrigue into the story bysaying Haroldhad experienced it before, whic in turn will have the reader asking allsorts of questions - 'Who are they - Whay are they here -What experience has Harold had of them before and what do 'they' want now.
The bulid up throughout this piece was done in a way that had me reading it really quickly because I knew there was going to be something rather tasty somewhere in the chapter......and when I got to the 'cool bit', it didn't disappoint. Nicely structured again and moved along at a very good pace. I really am impressed at the sentence length, you seem to have a good grasp at making them just the right length which is another good point and ultimately encourages the reader to carry on. The last sentence is once again perfect for the reader to want more, leaving it a a crucial stage and wanting to turn the page.
This story of yours is building nicely and I SHALL continue to read.

Flowed really nicely.
Good work.

Mark.