Shadows of Suspension

Chapter One is here: The Unwelcome Visitor

Chapter Two:

“Oh gosh.”

Isla’s body ached as she slowly bent down to put Luna in her favorite spot on the couch. Meanwhile, Luna let out a soft purr and walked around in a circle before gracefully curling up into a tight ball.

“Well, at least you can find some comfort right now,” Isla said. “Enjoy your nap as I try to figure out my next move.”

The rigidness of Isla’s muscles traveled upwards towards her head. Before the pain reached her lower back, Isla reached down and began to massage in a circular motion.

‘God, not now,’ she thought.

She did not need one of her back spasms.

Until it was over, she had to think clearly and determine her next steps.

She walked with caution, keeping her distance from the sinister package. However, it sat across from her, sending her waves of invisible dark vibes. Nevertheless, she reminded herself that it was just a package and couldn’t hurt her as it sat there.

Making her way to the bedroom, her hands drifted along the glass-low bookcase. Inside, it housed her multiple photo frames of Luna, her best friend, Rita, whom she’d known since Kindergarten, her parents, and a few of her watercolor paintings. Isla felt as if a stranger was looking at her belongings from far away.

However, if only six years ago had worked out differently, then this bookcase could have had her family photos of Tom and… and…. But Isla immediately slammed the door on her memories. She did this for fear that she wouldn't be able to handle the memories if she started to let them come.

Passing by her framed awards hanging outside her bedroom wall. She was chief editor at a well-known women’s health and wellness magazine; her strong editing skills, leadership, core ethics, and building solid relationships with people got her where she wanted to be. However, her hours were well over sixty a week; consequently, she had very little social life that wasn’t associated with the job. Isla tried to find time during the weeks to paint with watercolor, create pen and ink drawings, and do yoga. It provided an escape from her crazy job.

She approached the walk-in closet, undressed, and pulled out her cozy cotton sweatpants and a white tee. However, she saw her hands had a slight tremble. Isla knew that this charade of trying to carry on was not working, as if this were a typical October day. Her brain flashed back to the brown package sitting on her kitchen counter; the soft, white, neutral decor looked so out of place.

Isla walked to the warm marble bathroom next to her closet and gazed at herself in the mirror. Her pale complexion was ghostly white, dulling her red hair. Her little freckles below her eyes and on the bridge of her nose were appearing again from the long-gone foundation that was off hours ago. Thanks to her Irish roots, she was always careful with the sun, so at forty-five, she had minimal wrinkles.

She had seen that face six years ago, except she appeared much worse as she mirrored a hospital room one. Isla reached up to gather her thick red hair and twisted it into a ponytail, then twisted it again into a low bun against her slender, milky neck. She sensed that the air was heavy with anticipatory threats. She knew what was in the package.

Each package got creepier.

When she returned to the living room, the setting sun had disappeared, casting dark shadows in the corners of the living room and kitchen. Isla quickly moved around the room, turning on lamps to light the place up and trying to create a safe feeling.

As Isla moved from lamp to lamp, she found that a lot of them were not working.

“That was odd, they were working just fine yesterday.”

She moved into the kitchen to find that the recessed lights were out too. Isla walked through the kitchen to the back door where the phone intercom was placed.

She picked up the phone and rang downstairs. Derek picked up on the other end.

“Hello Ms. Macgregor, how can I help you?”

“Hello Derek, I was wondering if we had a problem with the electricity in the building. Some of my outlets are not working and the recess lights in the kitchen are out.”

There was a brief pause on the other end.

“Yes, we have had some construction in the building and a few breakers are not working. A few apartments have been affected but not all. Looks like yours was one of them.”

When Isla first arrived home, it was light enough that she didn’t need to turn on the lights.

“Ok, well… I hope it gets fixed quickly.”

“Yes, they are working on it,” he replied.

Isla hung up the wall phone and walked back into the kitchen. Her apartment was shrouded in darkness than Isla cared for. She heard earlier that there was a storm coming with heavy rains and high winds. She hoped the power wouldn’t be affected by it. She bit her lip thinking about the predicament.

Luna lay curled up on her plush cat blanket, her almond-blue eyes watching Isla’s every move. As Isla moved closer to the counter, the package, still in its spot, just sat there holding a presence of evil. She heard the unspoken accusations from inside the box.

NO!

She stopped abruptly in the center of the kitchen. Her brain once again tried to figure out who was sending these packages. For the last six years of her life, she had lived a quiet and successful life.

Suddenly, a loud, banging knock sounded at her door. Isla let out a shattering scream.

To be continued…

This is chapter two of five from a short fiction story: The Haunting Package

The Haunting Package is a suspenseful short story, Isla MacGregor, haunted by a mysterious, threatening sender known as ‘The Judge,’ receives packages that make her face past and test her resilience. As Isla battles her inner demons and a menacing presence, her determination to stand alone may lead to her ultimate downfall.

This was originally posted on Medium.