Melting ice

A shock

*Ava*

I stand in the dimly lit medic room of the arena, the echo of the game still buzzing in my ears. The adrenaline of the night lingers, but it’s fading fast as I focus on the task at hand… restocking the medic bag for the next game.

I talk to myself, a habit I’ve picked up over the years. “Alright, Ava, let’s see what we need. Ice packs… check. Compression wraps… check. A couple of those pain relievers, just in case.”

The room is quiet except for the rustle of plastic and the soft clink of bottles as I organize the supplies on the counter. I can’t shake the excitement from the game earlier. The energy of the crowd, the electric thrill of the players… I love this job. But Rasmus’s absence weighs on me like a heavy cloak on the entire team.

“I’ll visit him tomorrow,” I murmur, moving to grab more bandages. Doing this now gives me time of tomorrow to go to the hospital. “Make sure he’s keeping still. He can’t rush back, no matter how much he wants to.”

As I restock the medic bag, I picture Rasmus in his hospital room, hopefully resting and healing. I can almost hear his voice teasing me about my obsession with organization. “You’re worse than my mother, Ava,” he’d say, and I’d roll my eyes, but secretly, I’d love that he feels comfortable enough to joke with me.

“Just a few more things…” I mutter to myself, feeling a sense of accomplishment as I arrange everything neatly in the bag. “Then I can head home, crash into bed, and dream about a Long holiday.”

I chuckle softly, imagining Rasmus’s face when he finally gets out of the hospital. “He’s going to love it,” I say, picturing him grinning at me as he takes that first steps back on the ice.

The clock ticks, and I realize I’ve lost track of time. The arena is practically deserted now, the once-bustling atmosphere replaced by a heavy stillness. I grab the medic bag, slinging it over my shoulder and turning off the lights. The fluorescent buzz fades to silence as I step out into the corridor, the shadows stretching around me.

“Just a little longer, Ava,” I whisper, forcing a smile to chase away the unease creeping into my mind. “It’s late, and you’re tired. No need to scare yourself.”

But the quiet seems to thicken around me, and I quicken my pace toward the exit. The sound of my footsteps echoes, and I can’t help but glance over my shoulder, half-expecting to see someone lurking in the shadows.

“Get it together,” I chide myself, shaking off the feeling. “It’s just an empty arena. You’ve walked these halls a hundred times.”

I push through the exit doors, the cool night air hitting my face. The stars twinkle overhead, and I take a deep breath, the crispness refreshing. The parking lot is dimly lit, the lights flickering in the distance. “Home, sweet home,” I say to myself, scanning the rows of cars to find mine.

But as I walk further into the lot, a growing sense of unease washes over me. The silence feels oppressive, and I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched. “Ava, you’re being ridiculous,” I mutter, but my heart races, and I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end.

I spot my car, parked a little further out than usual, and a wave of relief washes over me. “Finally,” I breathe, quickening my pace. But as I get closer, my heart sinks. Something is off.

The headlights glint in the low light, and I squint, trying to see what’s wrong. And then I stop dead in my tracks. My tires are slashed, the rubber deflated and crumpled against the asphalt. Graffiti sprawls across the side of my car, ugly and jarring. Words I can’t even process jump out at me… racist slurs, misogynistic insults, each one like a dagger to my chest.

“No, no, no…” I whisper, my voice trembling. Panic surges through me, and I feel my breath quicken. My heart races as I step closer, horrified at the sight. “This can’t be happening.”

I run my fingers over the graffiti, the spray paint cold against my skin. It feels surreal, like a nightmare I can’t wake up from. I glance around the parking lot, suddenly hyper-aware of my surroundings. The shadows seem to loom larger, the night darker.

“Why would someone do this?” I ask aloud, anger mixing with fear. “Who would even think this is okay?” My voice trembles, and I feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes.

The adrenaline that had once fueled me now twists into a cold dread, and I step back, my heart pounding in my chest. A sense of vulnerability washes over me, and I realize just how alone I am in this moment.