The Ones Who Vanished
1375 Words
The black SUV.
The vehicle following Lexi.
Watching Nicole.
Appearing at the hospital.
The same vehicle that never seemed far away.
"What about it?"
The man lowered his voice.
"The plates are fake."
Not surprising.
"What else?"
"It belongs to nobody."
Terrance frowned.
"Explain."
"The vehicle was reported destroyed three years ago."
A chill ran down his spine.
"What?"
"The VIN doesn't match."
Terrance stood.
"Who owns it now?"
"We don't know."
For several seconds neither spoke.
Then the man added something that made Terrance's blood run cold.
"The vehicle has been spotted at the hospital multiple times."
Every alarm in his mind activated.
"How many times?"
"Dozens."
Terrance cursed.
"Anything else?"
The man's hesitation worried him.
"What?"
"We found another location."
"What location?"
The answer hit like a bomb.
"A warehouse."
Terrance froze.
"What kind of warehouse?"
"Medical supply storage."
His heart pounded.
Hospital connections.
Surveillance.
Tony.
Jasmine.
Now a warehouse.
The puzzle pieces were finally starting to form a picture.
And he didn't like what he was seeing.
Later that night
Lexi sat across from Terrance inside her apartment.
Stacks of notes covered her kitchen table.
Hospital records.
Names.
Dates.
Connections.
Both of them were exhausted.
Neither cared.
Because they were closer than ever before.
Terrance spread photographs across the table.
One image immediately caught Lexi's attention.
The black SUV.
Another showed the warehouse.
Then another.
Security cameras.
Delivery trucks.
Employees.
Suddenly she noticed something.
A familiar face.
Her stomach dropped.
"No way."
Terrance looked up.
"What?"
Lexi pointed at the photograph.
The hospital administrator.
The same woman she'd overheard.
The same woman who had caught her in Medical Records.
She was standing outside the warehouse.
Talking to two men.
One of whom looked armed.
Terrance's expression darkened.
"Well."
"What?"
"I think we just found our connection."
Lexi stared at the photograph.
The administrator.
The warehouse.
The hospital.
Tony.
Jasmine.
Everything seemed connected.
Then her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
Terrance immediately became alert.
"Don't answer."
But it was too late.
The voicemail notification appeared seconds later.
Confused, Lexi pressed play.
A distorted voice filled the room.
"Stop looking for Jasmine."
The message ended.
Both of them sat frozen.
Then the recording continued.
One final sentence.
A sentence that made Terrance jump to his feet.
"She wasn't the first girl."
Silence filled the apartment.
Heavy.
Terrifying.
Because suddenly this wasn't just about Jasmine anymore.
Somewhere out there were other victims.
And whoever was responsible knew Lexi and Terrance were getting close to the truth.
Chapter Eight
The voicemail replayed in my head long after the recording ended.
"Stop looking for Jasmine."
Then the words that followed.
"She wasn't the first girl."
The apartment suddenly felt smaller.
Colder.
The air felt heavier somehow.
I looked at Terrance.
His jaw was clenched so tightly I thought he might break a tooth.
The veins in his neck stood out.
His fists were balled.
Not from anger.
From fear.
Pure fear.
For the first time since I met him, I realized something.
Terrance wasn't afraid for himself.
He was afraid for me.
And somehow that realization terrified me even more.
"Lexi."
His voice was low.
Dangerously calm.
The kind of calm people use when they're trying not to lose control.
"You need to stay somewhere else."
"What?"
"Tonight."
I laughed nervously.
"No."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
His eyes met mine.
The concern behind them caught me off guard.
"We don't know who left that message."
"We don't."
"We don't know how much they know."
I folded my arms.
"They know enough to leave a voicemail."
"Exactly."
Neither of us spoke.
Because he was right.
Whoever was behind this wasn't hiding anymore.
This was a warning.
A threat.
A promise.
The scary part wasn't that they were watching.
The scary part was that they wanted us to know they were watching.
Terrance suddenly stood.
"I'm checking your apartment."
"What?"
"Locks."
I rolled my eyes.
"Terrance."
"I'm not asking."
Before I could argue, he was already inspecting windows.
Doors.
Entry points.
Everything.
I watched him move through my apartment.
Methodical.
Focused.
Protective.
It should have annoyed me.
Instead, it made me feel safe.
And that realization scared me almost as much as the voicemail.
Across town
Nicole couldn't sleep.
Every time she closed her eyes she saw Tony.
Not the dead Tony.
The living one.
The angry one.
The cruel one.
The version nobody else knew.
The version she hid for years.
The nightmares were always the same.
Tony standing over her.
Tony screaming.
Tony apologizing.
Tony crying.
Tony promising to change.
The cycle repeating endlessly.
She sat upright in her hospital bed.
Sweat covered her skin.
Her chest tightened.
The room felt suffocating.
A nurse entered moments later.
"You okay?"
Nicole nodded.
A lie.
The nurse knew it.
Nicole knew it.
Everyone knew it.
After the nurse left, Nicole stared out the window.
Then something caught her attention.
Movement.
Down below in the parking lot.
A black SUV.
Her heart stopped.
The same SUV.
She knew it.
Even from this distance.
The vehicle sat parked beneath a light.
Motionless.
Watching the hospital.
Watching her.
Suddenly she wasn't tired anymore.
Suddenly she was terrified.
Terrance
I didn't sleep.
I couldn't.
Something about the voicemail bothered me.
The wording.
The timing.
The confidence.
Whoever left it wasn't panicking.
They weren't reacting.
They were controlling the situation.
That meant one thing.
This had been happening for a long time.
Longer than any of us realized.
I sat in my apartment surrounded by old boxes.
Boxes I hadn't opened in years.
Boxes connected to Jasmine.
Photographs.
Letters.
Memories.
Pain.
Most people think grief gets easier.
It doesn't.
You just get better at carrying it.
Eventually I found what I was looking for.
An old notebook.
Jasmine's notebook.
The police had returned it after her disappearance.
At the time it seemed useless.
Now I wasn't so sure.
I flipped through pages.
Poems.
Random notes.
Shopping lists.
Then something caught my attention.
A page folded in half.
My pulse quickened.
Slowly I opened it.
There was a list of names.
Seven names.
All female.
Every name had a date beside it.
I frowned.
What was this?
Then I noticed something else.
One of the names had been circled repeatedly.
Hard enough to nearly tear through the paper.
I stared at it.
The name looked familiar.
Too familiar.
Then realization hit.
The woman from the voicemail.
Not the voice.
The nurse.
The one who supposedly quit after Jasmine disappeared.
Her name was on the list.
I immediately grabbed my phone.
The next morning
Lexi sat inside Medical Records pretending to work.
In reality she was digging.
The transfer note continued bothering her.
Transferred where?
Transferred why?
Eventually she discovered something strange.
A series of missing files.
Not one.
Not two.
Seven.
Every patient was female.
Every patient was between eighteen and twenty-seven.
Every patient had experienced some form of trauma.
Car accidents.
Assaults.
Head injuries.
Every single one disappeared from the system after treatment.
My heart started racing.
Seven.
The same number Terrance had discovered.
This couldn't be coincidence.
I printed everything.
Every page.
Every note.
Every name.
Then I heard voices.
Two men.
Approaching.
Quickly.
I shoved the papers into my bag.
A second later the door opened.
The doctor.
The same doctor.
The one I'd overheard.
This time he wasn't smiling.
"Lexi."
The way he said my name made my stomach turn.
"Doctor."
His eyes drifted to the computer screen.
Then back to me.
"You've been asking a lot of questions."
My pulse accelerated.
The room suddenly felt dangerous.
Very dangerous.
I forced a smile.
"I don't know what you mean."
He stepped closer.
Too close.
For several uncomfortable seconds neither of us spoke.
Then he smiled.
But there was nothing friendly about it.
Nothing.
"You remind me of someone."
A chill moved through my body.
"What?"
The doctor leaned slightly closer.
"Jasmine."
My blood ran cold.
Because he didn't say her name like someone discussing a former patient.
He said it like someone remembering a problem.
A problem that never completely went away.
Then he smiled again.
"Be careful, Lexi."
And walked away.
Leaving me frozen.
Terrified.
And more convinced than ever that I was standing in the middle of something evil.
- Writer
