Brain Surge!

"Oh come on! What now?" I growled. I stomped over to the box and picked it up. Giving it a good shake, I could hear the sound of a solid object hitting the sides of the box. I reached for the pocket knife I always kept in the drawer beside my bed. What else could there possibly be? Someone's head? I dug the blade into the tape and vigorously slashed it open . It seemed like whoever left this, was in a rush. The box was disgusting and old looking, the tape job was shitty. It looked like my Christmas gift wrapping skills. I opened up the flaps and inside the box was a Brain Buster, completely clean and unopened. There was nothing else in the box, just blood splatters.

"Okay but what the actual fuck?" I asked out loud. I picked up the candy bar and looked it over, no marks, flaws, anything. It was as if someone had worked incredibly hard to keep it clean. However, I was curious if the blood matched the blood on my door. It's not like I could take this to be analyzed without raising a hundred questions and probably a murder charge. I cursed myself for not pursuing forensic science in college. Well, the candy bar seemed absolutely fine, and had I not brushed or if I was insane, I probably would've taken a big bite of it. I threw the box to the side and climbed into bed. If there were any more surprises coming, I hoped they would wait long enough for me to get my beauty sleep.

My alarm woke me up the next day, causing my slight headache to throb more. When I rolled out of bed, I was almost shocked to see the box with the candy in it still on the floor. I was almost expecting it to have vanished, but since it didn't, I reached into it and grabbed the candy bar.

"Free food is free food," I muttered. I picked out a navy blue tee-shirt, dark gray jeans, and my black leather jacket. I didn't bother to smooth down my hair, it was usually pointless. Skipping right past breakfast, I finished getting ready and grabbed the keys to my shitbox. One more day, then I would have off and I could work out what's going on. The candy bar in my pocket seemed to feel like a heavy weight. So whoever busted into my apartment really set up a chain of clues that I was way too dumb to decipher. Nothing made sense, everything was out of order. I started my car and took off down the road, taking the same route. Except this time, I couldn't stop myself from turning on the road that would take me past it. I watched as the bright, pastel building came into my view. The billboards all screamed at me, "Ahead of Its Time, ¼ mile then a turn to your left!"

I wasn't exactly sure what I was hoping to get out of this. It's not like I was going to see the light and all my troubles would be washed away. As I pulled into the parking lot, I watched the stream of children filter in, I assumed they were a school group on a field trip. I looked around and was surprised to see Stellan himself outside the gates. I don't think I've ever actually seen him in person. He was creepier than I thought. He was taller and thinner than he looked in his pictures. His black hair was a little bit past his shoulder, and he was wearing a red tuxedo. I ducked down a bit, hoping he wouldn't see me, but of course he did. He started to walk towards my car and I cursed my entire life and everything down to my left shoe. He smiled at me through the window and I forced a smile while I put it down.

"Well hello, Christopher!" He cheered with his deep voice. The instinct to drive off just shot through the roof. Abort, abort!

"Uh, hey," I nodded.

"What brought you here? I haven't had the pleasure of a visit. Perhaps you would enjoy a VIP tour on this lovely morning," he waved some tickets in front of me.

"Love to but I actually have to work today," I pretended to sulk.

"Ah. Well, I'm absolutely sure Gerlan wouldn't mind. I insist," he coaxed. If I swung that way, I would've been enticed by his smooth voice. Who am I kidding? His voice is tempting but...

"Maybe some other time. I should probably head out anyways,"

"Head out?" Stellan started chuckling. I eyed him suspiciously before joining in a bit.

"My my, you are such a comedian. It would be wonderful to have you in my factory," Stellan handed me a card. It was his business card. The psycho actually wanted me to work with him?

"Er, thank you. I'll keep that in mind," I put the card in my wallet.

"Please, any time you would like to take a look, stop by. I will be there at once to give you the grand tour, no charge whatsoever!" Stellan held out his hand, which was covered by a black glove.

"I can't accept that. I would have to pay like everyone else," I said while shaking his hand

"Oh but Christopher, you're not like everyone else," he winked.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing. Good heavens look at the time? I have a field trip to guide today. But please, stop by. Your visit would most definitely enlighten me!" Stellan bowed and walked to the group of children. They all cheered as he opened the gates to the fat kid's fantasy. I looked at the card he handed me, the logo big and bright. Shaking my head, I threw it to the backseat and started my journey back to work. After that, I was ready to get the hell out of dodge. That eerie bastard would put a serial killer to shame. Why the hell would he even want me there? He was persistent, but I had absolutely no plans to go anywhere near that candy coated nightmare anytime soon. I pulled into the parking lot of my work, not surprised to see a sugary minion van there. The hair on my body all stood up, as the feeling of being watched started to creep in. I looked at the clock, somehow I was early. It's the first time I've been early since Isabella went missing. Frowning, I pulled the candy bar out and shrugged. I peeled the wrapper back and a weird smell hit my nose. It was familiar, almost like something I've smelled before. It was rusty, metallic, but I couldn't quite place it. However, I did know that they never had this scent, so something was off about it after all. I snapped it in half, almost pissing myself when a small waterfall of blood cascaded out of the inside. The smell became overwhelming and I had to open my window in order to avoid throwing up. The inside of the bar was completely hollow, aside from the little blood pool that was currently in my crotch area. Great, when Finn saw that, he was going to bust a vein laughing. The perfect start to a work day was walking in, looking like you pissed all over yourself. I threw the candy bar into an empty bag and into the back. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a piece of dark brown fabric. I pulled it out to reveal a pair of jeans that have been in here for who knows how long. But it's free real estate I suppose. I changed quickly, throwing the other pair in the back. If you haven't realized, the back of my car was littered with a shit ton of junk. Luckily, it came in handy this time. I suddenly felt grateful that I didn't bite into it, but I felt dumb for even thinking a random candy bar found in a bloody box could be good to eat. Ah well, we live and we learn. I hopped out of my car and passed right by the van, ignoring the calls of the sweets. I don't think I would be eating any of their products for the next while. I worked my way to my desk and felt a pang of disappointment when I didn't see the mysterious folder there. A part of me was hoping that the robber might have put it back. Someone saved a photo, it wasn't unreasonable to think it would be back. Unfortunately it wasn't there and I was back to square one with no answers. I noticed Finn slumped over, definitely hungover. I waltzed over to his desk and slammed my fist on the table. He startled, almost falling over and grabbing his head.

"You asshole," he moaned.

"Wakey wakey, bet your legs are shaky," I sang.

"Dude, please. I know I can be a dick but just this once, can you not?" he begged.

"You say that every time you're hungover," I pointed out.

"Hold that thought, I think I need to throw up," Finn darted to the bathroom and I laughed. He gets hungover at least once a week, usually on Fridays, sometimes on Mondays. And every time, he would fall asleep and we'd draw all over his face and arms. Two years ago, I drew a large penis on his forehead, no one told him all day either. I went to the break room and poured a large cup of coffee to leave on Finn's desk, along with some headache pills. He'll eventually wander back and sober up more. Sitting at my desk, I cracked my knuckles and booted up the computer. What story was at the top of my list today? I pulled the first paper down and saw the police stamp on the top. Ah, a missing person case, the first one since Isabella. I looked over all the information, jotting down the specifics. The picture looked very familiar, but I couldn't place it. I started typing up the article when it hit me. That was the mother of the very nice family down on the first floor. Apparently, she left last night, after the fire alarm, and had not been seen since. Her husband was frantic, claiming it wasn't like her. The police usually made people wait twenty-four hours before filing a report but he fought and won. I understood where he was coming from though, we know the people we love. I felt a tear drop and I shook my head. This article wasn't going to write itself.

At the end of the day, I clocked out, and almost dragged Finn to his mother's car. He didn't trust himself to drive this time, so I called his mom and she laughed as I basically tossed him into the back seats.

"You're such a good friend, Christopher," she smiled at me.

"Thanks, Suzanne. Make sure he gets some water, probably some painkillers," I instructed. She nodded and waved before driving off. I started back to my car and felt relief as I remembered that tomorrow was my day off. I think it was time to go home, get super fucking drunk, and forget about the past day. I made it to my car, not bothering to hit unlock, because when I got close, I could see that the door was slightly ajar.