4338.211 · July 30, 2018 AD
The Cubicle
The tyre tracks end at intact concrete walls. Fresh treads terminate mid-stride with no collision, no explanation. Behind the toilet block: Gladys's abandoned car, the door hanging open, the interior collecting rain. Metallic clangs come from inside the structure. Thunder, darkness, weapons drawn. Karl kicks open the cubicle door—impossible rainbow colours spill across the grimy floor, radios shriek interference. For one second: a silver-haired woman crouched inside, luminous and impossible. Then darkness. The door slams. Sarah checks: empty. Just concrete, graffiti, and Karl frozen like he's seen a ghost.
Two sets of tracks in mud. Sharp, recent, defying rain that should erase them. Sarah follows the first—it simply stops. No skid marks, no impact damage, wall completely intact. Physics violated without apology.
Second set curves behind toilet block. Gladys's car discovered, passenger door gaping, abandoned in haste. Suspects fled on foot.
Metallic clang from inside the structure. Thunder splits sky. Both weapons raised. Karl advances, tactical precision, checking angles. First cubicle empty. Second door closed.
Wind screams through gaps. Light flickers, dies. Total darkness.
Karl's torch cuts through black. Shimmer beneath cubicle door—oil-slick gleam, colours that shouldn't exist. Radio erupts with hostile interference.
Karl kicks door open.
One second of impossible clarity: woman crouched inside, silver hair luminous in torchlight, face turned away. Recognition flashes through Karl's mind—he knows her, knows that hair, can't place the memory.
Door slams shut on its own. When Sarah checks: empty cubicle. Just toilet, graffiti, concrete. Nowhere to hide. No exit. Woman vanished.
Karl stands frozen, unable to speak, replaying that flash of silver catching light. Sarah sees his expression—distant, shocked, processing something she didn't witness.
The room still feels occupied despite visual evidence of emptiness. Logic fractures. Physics looks away.
