In Death's Reach - Part 1

As the golden sun made its descent across the sky, the classic sedan embraced the winding road through enchanting hills and mysterious thickets of countryside. The scenery had transformed from the bustle of civilization to a serene sanctuary of nature. All around, the air was filled with the symphony of songbirds and the dance of leaves rustled beneath the car.

Amid this idyllic scene, an air of excitement began to build as the urban landscape disappeared in the distance. The fresh country air flooded into the vehicle enticing the driver to roll down the car window and enjoy the cool breeze.

As the wind whipped the sleeve of his shirt, a jarring ring cut through the air. The cell phone resting on the passenger seat rang, destroying the solitude of the drive. Without taking his eyes off the road, the driver answered the call with an easy, "Yello."

A woman's voice echoed through the phone, "Baby! What's gotten into you? You still haven't given me an answer. I need two names."

Keeping his focus on the road ahead, the driver held the phone to his ear and replied with confidence, "Darling, I already gave you a name! Najee Junior. As for a girl, well, there's no need to come up with a name. I'm sure it's going to be a boy."

A playful chuckle danced across the phone line before the woman's voice turned sober as she said, "Don't play with me! You need to come up with a name, and Najee Junior for a girl's name is not good enough."

As time whisked them away, the scenery underwent another transformation. Vast open fields that stretched beyond the horizon gave way to the grand silhouette of an imposing factory. Adjusting the phone in his hand, Najee couldn't help but try to postpone the discussion, "Love, can we continue this talk later? I'm pulling into the parking lot as we speak. Gotta go."

As their conversation drew to a close, Najee ended the call and put the phone in the cup holder, not wanting to interrupt the spectacle before him.

His attention was captivated by the factory's grandeur, the colossal chimneys exhaling plumes of smoke, a testament to ceaseless productivity. A fortress-like security wall, adorned with lush trees, enclosed this marvel of industry.

Upon reaching the factory gates, a massive semi-truck obscured the bold red letters declaring the establishment as "Ruecker Orthopedics Inc." Despite the bustling coming and going of vehicles in the open gate, the security guard shack was deserted.

Driving into the heart of the factory, Najee parked near the entrance. Shutting off the engine, he emerged from the car brushing off any dust clinging to his clothes. The distant sound of machinery and the rhythmic clanking of metal welcomed him, affirming the facility's industrious spirit.

As he surveyed the three-story structure, he couldn't help but be impressed by its organization and pristine condition. It stood as a formidable symbol of progress, surrounded by its own secure domain.

An elderly gentleman sporting the classic gray shirt and black pants of a security guard appeared out of thin air. With a hint of amusement, he remarked, "A white shirt? You must be the new guy, right?"

Startled by his words, Najee chuckled at his own choice of attire and responded, "You got me. The name's Najee. Pleasure to meet you." He extended his hand for a friendly shake. "The people at the placement company said someone would be here to meet me."

The older guard, whose name tag revealed him as "Ulmer," shook Najee's hand and gave him a polite grin. " That would be me. Welcome aboard, Najee. That shirt of yours is already making an impression."

Taking the friendly banter in stride, Najee jumped right back into conversation, "Thanks, I think. Is the shirt too much?"

Ulmer let out a chuckle, discreet enough to keep it between them. "Well, you do look like you're off to a funeral. But don't worry, we've got spare uniforms for you. Let's not waste any more time. We've got plenty to cover."

With that, Najee followed Ulmer towards the guard shack, ready to embrace his new role in this industrious wonderland.

Ulmer's eyes locked onto the quaint guard shack perched nearby. The glass windows adorned its sides, offering an unobstructed view of both inside and out. It was a fishbowl, ready to reveal its secrets from any angle.

Najee stepped inside, as the room's simplicity struck him like a bolt of lightning. A lone desk with a humble computer and monitor occupied one side, while a closet and three lockers stood on the other. The names marked on each with scotch tape were Randy, Ulmer, and several more left unclaimed.

Ulmer pointed towards the closet, his tone commanding yet laced with an undercurrent of urgency. "Grab a shirt that fits. We've got to start before the evening shift leaves."

Without question, Najee opened the closet to find an assortment of gray shirts and black pants hanging on the coat rack. Each shirt already bore a name tape. Amidst them, he spotted a shirt that matched his size, the name "Matt" already emblazoned on it.

Without a moment's hesitation, Najee slipped into Matt's shirt and adjusted it before the mirror on the door. Turning to face Ulmer, he couldn't resist a touch of sarcasm. "I may not look like a Matt, but I suppose this will do for now."

Ulmer swiveled in his chair, casting an appraising glance at Najee. "There you go, now you're ready for your first shift," he said with a hint of approval. As he stood up, he gestured around the room, playing the role of an experienced mentor. "This is the office, desk, phone, and that computer over there with its all-seeing eyes—CCTV cameras that record the perimeter, fence, and loading docks."

Handing Najee a black belt adorned with various attachments, Ulmer explained its purpose. "This will be your trusty companion—a home for your nightstick, flashlights, radio, and spare batteries." He motioned toward a pair of dusty radios on a nearby cabinet. "Back in the day, we relied on these to stay connected, but budget cuts did away with that luxury. Now we walk alone."

Najee secured the belt around his waist and couldn't help but ask, "Aw no radios?"

Ulmer's face softened, reminiscing of better times. "In the past, we had a team of security guards working together, and communication was a must. But now, it's one man per shift, my friend. So, let's get going. We can chat while we walk." With that, Ulmer led the way towards the exit, ready to guide Najee into this new world of security on the night watch.

Stepping into the twilight, a refreshing evening breeze danced around them as the sky transformed into evening orange hues. He led Najee toward the imposing facility, weaving a tale about their roles in this nocturnal realm.

"Alright my friend, let me enlighten you about the job," Ulmer began, his voice animated with excitement. "You close the gates after the cleaning crew leaves. Padlock it shut or not, I don't care either way. Randy will relieve you in the morning. The first shift workers start getting here at 5:30, so make sure the gate is open around 5:15 or so."

As they strolled, Ulmer exchanged nods with the departing factory workers, each gesture akin to a secret handshake among comrades. Eager to understand the purpose of his role, Najee inquired, "If no one is here, why bother with a night shift guard? Why not just lock the gate and go home?"

"Hah! A reasonable question," Ulmer chuckled, casting a quick glance at Najee's shirt. "It all boils down to the sweet sound of money. Oh yes, the answer will be apparent as we step inside the factory floor."

Unlocking the maintenance door with his keys, Ulmer led Najee into the heart of the factory, a kingdom of creation and innovation. The exterior's grandeur paled in comparison to the intricacy of what lay within.

Before them sprawled Ruecker Orthopedics, a sprawling billion-dollar empire filled with everything from skilled metalwork to masterful wood craftsmanship, medical support, and groundbreaking research. A massive collection of hardware, tools, and machinery covered every foot of the factory.

"Behold, a sanctuary of brilliance!" Ulmer exclaimed with pride, his hand sweeping across the bustling floor. "Within these walls, art and technology intertwine to craft life-changing prosthetics. Plastic, metal, and even electronic wonders converge to create the marvels you see."

As they moved through the labyrinthine corridors, Najee listened to Ulmer's words, though his eyes remained captivated, and his senses became flooded with the smell of cut wood and molded plastics.

Ulmer continued his guided tour, pointing out various sections of the factory, each a realm of specialized production. The workers were nearing the end of their shift as they wrapped up their creations, packing away their tools, while the machines spiraled down as they settled into their nightly slumber.

"The Testing and Quality Assurance area, my friend, ensures that every product surpasses excellence," Ulmer explained with reverence, "and over yonder is the Packaging and Shipping department, where the products begin their journeys to those in need."

Yet, even in this vast kingdom, some chambers were off limits with signs that read, "No Entry". Ulmer gestured toward a forbidden door. "Ah, the Clean Rooms, a realm of sterile purity," he whispered, a tone of awe in his voice. "You need a clean suit and a bunch of clearances to go in there."

As the night swallowed the day, the sound of work came to a halt. The once-bustling factory now embraced stillness as each worker waited at the time clock.

Sauntering past, Ulmer gave a respectful nod to the man in the lab coat, and Najee took in the scene as the man passed by. Ulmer leaned in, his voice tinged with admiration, "That's Doctor Kiser, overseeing every custom unit shipped out from here. A real champ, he is, working for the people and the company."

As they stepped out through the facility's back doors, a group of workers were enjoying their final smoke break. The night was descending, and as the darkness spread, Ulmer turned to Najee and explained the job at hand. "It's a pretty straightforward gig, room checks and patrolling the perimeter wall every couple of hours. Any questions, my friend?"

Najee pondered for a moment before asking, "Yeah, what if I see something suspicious?"

A smug grin appeared on Ulmer's face as he replied, "Trust me, Matt, in my seven years at Ruecker Orthopedics, I haven't seen anything worth raising an eyebrow. The most you need to be on alert for is the raccoons trying to raid the trash bins. But hey, this company is worth billions, so we guard it like it's pure gold."

Najee continued to survey his surroundings as they rounded the building. Suddenly, the parking lot lights flickered to life, bathing everything in a bright glow – a sight to behold.

As tired workers flooded out of the facility, Ulmer and Najee stepped aside to make way. Ulmer carried on with his words, "The only real challenge around here is keeping three security guards on the payroll."

Curious, Najee inquired, "Is it that hard to find people?"

Ulmer hesitated but then decided to spill the beans, "Not so much finding, but rather keeping them. While it might be easy, it's a boring job. You're the latest in a line of maybe six nightshift guards to wear that 'Matt' shirt. Some last a week, while others vanish after a single night." Ulmer shrugged dismissively, countering, "Young kids these days, they all want the paycheck, but they ain't ready to put in the work, if you catch my drift."

As the sun began its slow descent, Najee witnessed the spectacle of employees streaming into the parking lot. He couldn't help but chuckle as he offered his candid opinion, "Well, if they're willing to pay me to wander around an empty building all night, I'll accept and laugh my way to the bank."

As the crowd dispersed, Ulmer approached Najee, "You know, it's not all that bad. You work while the world sleeps, and then you get to rest while everyone else is bustling about. Got any kids waiting for you at home?"

Najee shook his head as he replied, "Not yet."

The duo strolled back to the guard shack, where most of the vehicles had cleared out, but a white van caught Ulmer's attention. He pointed at it as he said, "That's the cleaning crew. They'll be the only ones inside until midnight. Once they leave, you can shut the gate, and then it's just you, all on your lonesome."

Inside the shack, Ulmer grabbed his rusty lunchbox from the locker while Najee settled into the desk chair. Reaching into his pocket, Ulmer held out his hand to Najee and said, "Alright, Bossman. This is for you. Each key is marked with the room and door number. I imagine you can figure it out."

Taking the key ring from Ulmer's hand Najee nodded with a hint of confidence. It was only a hint. Gazing around the room, Najee couldn't help but feel a bit anxious. He blurted out, "Who do I call in case of an emergency?"

Ulmer's response was both unsettling and straightforward, "Don't bother calling me, I won't pick up." He pointed to the phone on the desk, saying, "Dial #1 for the police station, #2 for the fire department, and #3 for animal control. If it's a situation they can't handle, well, you're out of luck."

Seeing Najee's alarmed expression, Ulmer attempted to soothe his nerves, "Relax, man. Every inch of this factory is under surveillance. You have all the tools you need. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Ulmer stepped out of the shack and walked to the window, checking on Najee, "You good?"

Though still feeling a bit jittery, Najee managed to flash a thumbs-up and a brave smile in Ulmer's direction. Returning the gesture with a smile of his own, Ulmer replied, "Alright then, see you tomorrow, new guy."

With that, Ulmer hopped into his truck and drove away, leaving Najee with the cleaning crew to hold down the fort. The night had only begun, and the empty factory seemed to hold any number of secrets, but Najee was determined to tackle the challenge, despite his unease.

Settling into the chair behind the desk, Najee began watching the computer monitor, seamlessly shifting between camera feeds that captured both its inner factory and the expanse beyond its walls. Despite the murky darkness blanketing certain corridors, he managed to decipher the general functions of most rooms.

One space, brimming with cubicles, desks, and swiveling chairs, evidently played host to a bustling billing department. Alongside it, a chamber lined with hospital beds served as a medical station, its purpose illuminated even in the dimness. The sweep of his search led him to the cleaning crew's whereabouts, stationed on the second floor adjacent to the restrooms.

A comforting notion whispered to Najee from the shadows – he wasn't solitary in this sprawling enclave. He allowed his gaze to stray to the parking lot, revealing four vehicles awaiting their owners. Among them, his own sedan and the cleaning crew's van huddled nearby. The spotlight, however, fell upon an abandoned red sports car and a deep blue pickup truck. Their owner's identity intrigued Najee, igniting a cascade of thoughts.

But in the midst of his reverie, the echo of his conversation with his wife resurfaced. What is a name? A title? No, a name is the key to someone's very essence, a name destined to dance upon his lips for a lifetime. Naming a child held monumental significance, a task far from trivial.

Pushing those thoughts aside, Najee collected himself and embarked on his first solo perimeter inspection. Clouds had formed in the night's shroud as the moonless void stretched above.

As Najee strolled along, a hint of impending rain teased his senses, carrying on the night breeze. Anticipation mingled with the cool air as he hoped for a possibility of a raincoat hidden away in the closet of the guard shack. But that of course could wait. Najee double checked that he had the keys as he exited the door.

The halo of robust halogen lamps turned night into day within the parking expanse, rendering a flashlight unnecessary. Still, it was an intrinsic element of his uniform, so he held it in his hand waving it around as needed.

His gaze bounced along the precast concrete wall that encased the facility. Though modest in height, at about ten feet, it constituted an effective barricade. While a nimble trespasser armed with a step ladder could easily climb in, it thwarted vehicles from entry on all sides with the exception of the gate.

With the turn of a key and the threshold crossed, Najee plunged into the yawning emptiness of the factory's interior. The now empty floor sprawled out with a vaulting gloom, absent of the swarm of workers that infused it with life.

An unsettling silence draped over the space, magnifying every sound into an intrusive presence. The 3D printers emitted intermittent pops as their filaments cooled. A sound that irked Najee's senses.

Najee clung to his flashlight as a trusty companion, banishing any lurking shadows that might shroud any possible hazard. The last thing he wanted was to stumble over forgotten air hoses or rogue power cords strewn about by the workers. Yet, even with the reassuring beam from his flashlight, it failed to completely dispel the encroaching unease brought on by the expanse of the abandoned behemoth before him.

Within this soundscape of darkness and erratic noises, the tendrils of primal fear began to weave their way into Najee's mind. Shadows materialized on the periphery of his vision, spawned by his overactive imagination.

Flickering lights from nearby control panels harmonized with distant echoes of the cleaning crew causing Najee's senses to run wild. The ambient work area of the factory floor served as Najee's anchor, tethering him to his task at hand amidst the chaos.

Najee strode down a corridor that seemed to stretch forever, a gallery of shops that whispered of the daytime hustle. He ventured further, navigating his way to the factory's rear entrance. Pushing open the door, he was greeted by the night's cool embrace, a reprieve that he welcomed with a sigh. Before becoming complacent in his location, Najee turned his flashlight left and right to inspect his surroundings.

His flashlight became an instrument of reassurance, its beam slicing through the dark of night, revealing an empty world outside. And in that moment, Najee bolstered himself as he chuckled, dismissing his fears with a casual phrase, "Too easy. It's just a building."

Veering to the right, Najee's stride led him towards the very corner of the building's northeastern side. His gaze fixed upon an assortment of storage containers and hefty stockpiles of merchandise that lined the rear of the property. With a discerning eye, Najee searched each nook and cranny, in efforts to find hiding spots that would pique the interest of criminals.

The cloud covered night sky soon invited his gaze to wander beyond the confines of the factory walls. A tranquil moment suspended, inhaled, and released.

The peaceful moment was pierced by the sound of nearby footfalls, a rhythm that betrayed urgency. Nearly a sprint veiled in subtlety. Najee's strides slowed, his senses homing in on the elusive footsteps that caught his attention. In the day's clamor, such sounds would've been swallowed by machinery, but in this late hour, they reverberated off the outer walls.

A shiver ran down Najee's spine as he focused his flashlight on the suspect corner of the building. Rationality crept back, and Najee questioned himself out loud, "Hello? Are you a part of the cleaning crew?"

Fueled by intrigue, Najee quickened his pace toward the corner in question. His voice, long dormant, burst forth breaking the night air as he asked again, "Hello?!" His words echoed off the perimeter wall followed only by silence.

Rounding the bend, a cascade of light bathed the space just as Najee's anticipation peaked, bracing himself to catch a fleeting figure vanishing into the distance. Yet, all that greeted his gaze was an expanse of emptiness. No retreating silhouette or fleeing criminals to be seen. There was nothing to see except for the exterior walls and empty pavement. Both of which played mute to the bewildering spectacle unfolding before them.

With a begrudging expression, Najee took a step back, his flashlight slicing through the air left and right. His features were contorted by the puzzle that refused to be solved. Who was just here? Had his imagination created the entire thing?

Without second guessing himself, Najee doubled down on his convictions. Someone had been there. He was certain of it. And yet, like a phantom they had vanished into nothingness leaving behind a lingering sense of intrigue.

With a determined curiosity, Najee's flashlight revealed a nearby doorway that led back into the factory's depths. Crossing the threshold, he was confronted by the empty corridors of the inner factory again.

Returning to the central hall, his steps aligned with the target of his search. Emerging from the bathroom was an older woman with a yellow shirt bearing the insignia that read "Maria's Cleaning Service." A single glance weighted with judgment, locked onto Najee as if demanding an explanation for his actions.

Before Najee could ask a single question, the older woman released her grip on the mop, its handle crashing down to the floor with a resonant thud. She advanced towards Najee, her words a rapid-fire cascade of Spanish that echoed through the air like fire. Caught off-guard by the swift approach, Najee took a step back unsure of her intentions. He defended himself with words only, "Relax lady, I'm the night security guard."

His words fell on deaf ears as she wrested the flashlight from his hand, her tongue wielding words that scolded him like a small child. She switched off the flashlight as her aggressive gestures continued for what felt like an eternity. Baffled by the unfolding spectacle, Najee stood rooted in place listening to her endless spray of words.

In this unfolding spectacle, a young man emerged from the lavatory, bearing a handful of cleaning supplies. His attention absorbed the surreal scene before him. Just as the storm arose, the angry cleaning lady relinquished the flashlight back into Najee's hand and returned to her mop.

With squeaky wheels screaming, the mop bucket now paraded down the corridor under her control. The young lad paid his respects with a nod and a half smile. His voice was deep with apology as he spoke, "Sorry about my mom. She has strong opinions, you know?"

Najee met this admission with a grin and a nod, replying, "I guess so. I didn't pay much attention in my high school Spanish class. Care to clue me in?"

The lad's gaze shifted to his mother, her figure receding down the corridor, then back to Najee. With a bemused smile, he shared, "She used a heap of words I can't repeat, but to sum it up she said you shouldn't draw so much attention to yourself, you know?"

For a fleeting moment, Najee's brows raised before he muttered under his breath, "Attention?" He raised his voice to a normal tone directing his confusion at the lad, "I work here. I'm the new night shift guy. Does she think I'm trying to rob the place?"

With a nonchalant shrug, the lad turned and walked away. Unwilling to let him vanish into the corridors, Najee pointed his thumb towards the exit, "Hey kid, did you or your mom step outside a minute ago?"

The boy turned his gaze back to Najee but only for a second. The response was a silence more telling than words. Thus, Najee stood alone amidst the factory's hallway, uncertainty crowding his mind like shadows on the walls. The encounter with the cleaning lady had left him with more questions than answers.

With his rounds completed, Najee made his way back to the guard shack. Bearing the cleaning lady's advice, his flashlight remained off for now. The cryptic words of the old woman had somehow etched onto his mind leaving him to ponder who was watching him.

Najee mulled over the old woman's warning like a detective decoding a cryptic message. It was as if she knew management was watching their every move. He imagined the higher-ups sipping their coffee and dissecting surveillance footage ensuring the new security guard was doing his job.

He couldn't deny it, this scenario was the only puzzle piece that fit. He lifted his gaze to the wall clock – 10:46 pm. The night stretched ahead like an endless highway. How would he endure this long night?

A thought that resurfaced as he retraced his steps. He was going to need his phone. Returning to his vehicle, Najee opened the passenger door, his fingers brushed against its familiar shape in the cup holder. Taking it into his hand, Najee was happy to see it gleaming with full battery life. A reliable companion for the night ahead.

Back at the security station, Najee resumed his seat and swiped through the digital landscape of his phone. Missed calls and messages blinked back at him. Amid the notifications, a message from his wife stood out. Her words painted a smile on his face, a testament to her genuine excitement for their impending parenthood.

Nudging his phone aside, his attention returned to the monitors. He navigated through camera feeds searching for something. Amid the dance of pixels, he spotted three figures wrapping up their work in the cleaning closet. Their duties fulfilled, they prepared to exit the building.

Within a few minutes, the old woman, her son, and another lady emerged into the night, an animated trio in deep conversation. Najee stood at the entrance of the guard shack and shot them a friendly wave. His ploy only succeeded at ending their conversation as their voices ceased and they locked eyes with each other. They fell into a silence as they walked to their vehicle.

As the trio approached their van, Najee stepped toward the sliding gate. As Ulmer had told him, this was his first job of the night.

The van came to life as the engine's roar echoed through the empty parking lot. The headlights came on as the cleaners navigated their way towards the exit. Standing by the gate, Najee offered a patient smile as the vehicle rolled by, his eyes locked onto the occupants.

The faces that stared back at him told a story of their own. A mix of surprise and perhaps a touch of discomfort. He pondered the possibility that the concept of night shift employees was a foreign idea to them, a thought bolstered by Ulmer's mention of the lack of keeping three guards on staff.

As the van raced off towards the distant horizon, Najee pulled on the metal bars of the gate, Moving it into a closed position. The long metallic gate glided on wheels, concealing both the facility's entrance and exit lanes. The slightly rusted padlock and chain chimed a subtle tune against the bars, a gentle reminder for Najee to keep things secure.

With the gate now shut, Najee's fingers returned to his pocket and produced Ulmer's jingling keys. He located the padlock key and slipped it into the lock. The words of Ulmer echoed in his mind, and with a thoughtful touch, Najee wrapped the chain around the gate and the nearby pole, locking the two ends together with a satisfying click. It was a safety measure woven into the moment. It was always better to be safe than sorry.

A long glance back at the facility revealed a sight of solitude. Najee was the only person for as far as the eye could see. Reorienting himself towards the guard shack, he surveyed the remaining vehicles in the parking lot, his discerning eyes spotted a layer of dust had claimed the windshield of a blue pickup truck hinting at being abandoned or broken down.

The red sports car however radiated vitality, untouched by the passage of time. Drawn by curiosity, Najee approached the car, but almost synchronously the factory's interior lights plunged into darkness. Half of the parking lot's street lights turned off as well. Illumination now only existed in sparse beacons of light.

Taking one final look around, Najee returned to the well-lit cocoon of the guard shack. Settling into his seat, Najee felt a deep sense of accomplishment warming him. His only remaining tasks were wandering around and opening the gate at 5:15am.

Najee produced a cable from the depths of his pocket, placing his phone onto the charger like a maestro setting up his instrument. In an attempt to stave off the drowsiness, he kickstarted a playlist that should keep him awake. Nestling into the embrace of his chair, he allowed his thoughts to wander through his current situation.

Najee's determination stood like an unwavering sentinel over the unprotected wealth of the entire facility. It was a fancy way to say security guard. The rounds and the meticulous checks were more than a simple routine. Najee knew the scrutinizing eyes of the higher-ups were likely watching him.

As his gaze wandered out of the shack's windows, it was as though his eyes were drinking in the dark of night as his ears swayed to the rhythm of his playlist.

Checking the clock, Najee found it had barely passed midnight. Any normal day, time passes without even being noticed, but now each second felt sluggish as minutes stretched into hours.

Najee's serenity was disrupted by an electric spark in his mind, a fleeting flash of movement at the edges of his vision. His head snapped towards the monitor, the screen revealing a silhouette moving on screen.

With a dramatic shift, Najee set his phone aside and dove headfirst into the computer camera feeds, his fingertips clicking from screen to screen until they landed on the camera fixated on the facility's rear. And there, like a hidden treasure in plain sight, lay the spectacle that held him captive. Resting at the building's corner was an abandoned prosthetic arm, as if it had fallen off a passing shipment. Najee's mind raced, a whirlwind of bewilderment and speculation, attempting to stitch together an answer to this event.

A mere hour prior, he had been in this very spot. Yet now, in a flurry of camera switches, he felt a gnawing unease creeping through his veins. Something about the scene was wrong. Reason whispered that perhaps the arm was dropped by the cleaning crew. But the other half of his consciousness, that persistent itch of suspicion, insisted on a more sinister narrative.

Najee's gaze flashed to the emergency phone, a lifeline pulsating with potential. It would take them twenty minutes to get this far out of town, but a single press of a button would summon a legion of police officers to his aid.

The bigger question was: what on earth would he say if he called them? A prosthetic arm on the ground in a prosthetic factory. Certainly not a smoking gun, nor a solitary shred of incriminating evidence that it was more than just an arm that fell off a passing cart.

Rising from his seat, he seized his flashlight wielding it as a samurai would cling to his katana. The duty of safeguarding this territory was his domain, a realm where no one, friend or foe could wander without his watchful eye.

With his flashlight in hand, Najee swung open the guard shack's door embracing the night expanse that stretched beyond. The parking lot lay shrouded in obscurity, the wind had picked up a bit causing the trees nearby to sway in the moonlight. This meant nothing to Najee. He was on a mission as he rounded the building's eastern flank.

His heartbeat pounded as every rustle of leaves heightened his senses. His gaze eyed every detail as he passed by the plethora of storage containers that lined the inner walls. Hoping against hope that this was all a mirage, he voiced a question to the darkness, "Hello, is anyone there?"

Yet his words reverberated unanswered and alone. Navigating the corner, his flashlight's beam unveiling the abandoned prosthetic arm sitting alone on the pavement. Gathering courage, he shouted again, "You dropped something."

Again, his words remained unanswered. But in that silence, another sound could be heard. A faint whirl of machinery and a rhythmic thumping could be heard within the factory walls.

Without a hint of hesitation, Najee swung open the rear entrance of the facility and strolled inside, his determination overflowing from every pore. He was ready to unearth the root of these bizarre events. Within the empty factory, his attention was drawn to the resonating purr of a conveyor belt in motion. The control panel before him was signaling a red error light that caught Najee's focus as he closed in.

The persistent thumping sound that Najee had heard was the sound of prosthetic limbs cascading onto the floor as the mechanical belt hummed along with its duty. At the end of the conveyor belt lay a sprawling mound of arms several feet tall.

Yet, Najee's pursuit for answers continued. The expanse of the building's interior became his playground as he turned his flashlight in every direction seeking answers.

His voice resonated through the space as he shouted, "Is anyone there? Security." Alas, the void returned his call with naught but an echo and the receding sound of the humming conveyor belt.

Drawing closer to the machine, Najee's gaze fell upon the multitude of red buttons covering the control panel. It was evident that whoever had initiated this sequence was now absent. A surge of resolve coursed through him as Najee slapped the emergency stop button. With an almost cinematic exhalation, the machine slowed to a stop as the conveyor belt died down to complete silence.

The eerie silence was short as Najee's frustration lashed out in words, "Hello? Is anyone here? This machine didn't start itself."

A response emerged from the shadows, a deep almost robotic laughter dripping with calculated intent. The sound bounced off of every flat surface making its direction of origin difficult to determine.

An icy tremor rippled down Najee's spine as that sound penetrated his ears. Shining his flashlight in every which direction, Najee's heart rate skyrocketed as his frantic flashlight movement searched for the source of the voice but to no avail.

The factory was empty with the exception of himself. Frustration intermingled with anxiety, spurring Najee's plea again, "Show yourself, or the police are coming to slap you into handcuffs."

Standing resolute by the side of the dormant machine, his flashlight erratically bounced around the room from one possibility to another. As time ticked away, Najee's breathing slowed just enough for him to hear the faintest laughter in the distance.

The new voice that reached Najee's ears carried a distinct difference from the previous. It wasn't a rumble from the depths, but rather a high-pitched, and much more distant than the previous laughter. In that moment, it dawned on Najee that he wasn't facing a single perpetrator, but at least two. This realization washed over him, sending a shiver down his spine as the sensation of the unknown gripped him.

The woman's laughter echoed once more, causing Najee to whirl around, his flashlight cutting through the darkness in a frenzy, probing every visible angle. He yelled, his voice reverberating off the empty walls, a futile attempt to pierce through the sinister amusement. Yet the voices remained silent, as if taunting him from the shadows. Whoever they were, they seemed to regard this as a game. But Najee had no intentions of participating.

Rapid breaths escaped Najee's lips, accompanied by a bead of sweat that traced a path down his forehead. Panic was weaving its fingers into his consciousness, the primordial instincts of fight or flight urging him to flee from this situation.

As a semblance of rational thought regained its foothold in Najee's mind, he began to retreat, putting distance between himself and the unsettling laughter. His eyes darted toward the rear entrance of the factory he had entered from. He needed to get back to the guard shack where he could summon help. This was far beyond the events of a late-working employee.

Najee's feet led him backward, inching closer to the doorway he sought. However, his attention faltered as he stumbled past the conveyor belt he had switched off earlier. What followed was a distinct, almost surreal sound of plastic components moving. He turned his full attention to the noise, his eyes widening as the pile of prosthetic arms conglomerated together, as if governed by a mind of their own.

Caught in a mix of fear and bewilderment, Najee found himself paralyzed unable to budge as the collection of arms melded into a colossal amalgamation, measuring four or five feet across when united. Then, a jolt of terror surged through him as the mass elevated itself from the ground and surged forward.

At its heart, nestled amidst the arms rested a solitary unblinking black eye with a sinister fixation upon Najee. The prosthetic arms acting as both hands and feet propelled the mass in his direction, each motion bringing it closer to its prey.

Najee's instincts screamed at him, urging him to hasten his steps toward the back exit of the factory, an escape route that seemed all the more urgent as this nightmarish situation played out before his eyes.

A seething tangle of limbs surged forward, pushing aside carts and factory equipment in a frenzy as it pursued him. Amidst the chaos, one of the arms detached from the creature and tumbled to the ground, abandoned by its bizarre collective.

Fueled by adrenaline, Najee burst through the back doors in a wild sprint, his flashlight slipping from his grasp and left behind. Racing along his earlier path around the building, he could hear the creature's forceful shove as the double doors opened. Its numerous hands clapped against the pavement in an eerie rhythm that flooded his senses. The noise sounded like being pursued by an enormous centipede.

A nagging instinct whispered in Najee's mind, tempting him to cast a glance over his shoulder and gauge the creature's distance, but he resisted. His thoughts were singular, fixated on a sole objective. RUN.

His breakneck speed led him to the guard shack in record time. Swinging open the door, Najee dared a backward glance in the direction of the pursuing monstrosity. To his disappointment, the mass of limbs remained in pursuit, as it navigated the building's contours. Despite its size and fearsome appearance, it could only move at a brisk pace.

Najee calculated that he had only a minute or two at most to summon help. A rush of urgency propelled him inside as he slammed the door shut. Making his way to the desk, an overwhelming sense of dismay engulfed him as he found a lone wire where the company phone had once been. The phone itself had been unplugged and taken.

Further anguish awaited him as Najee realized his charger and cell phone were also absent from the desk. Pushing aside the rolling chair, he frantically searched the floor in vain. Panic surged as the sound of plastic clapping against the ground filled the air once again. Diverting his attention back to the door, Najee's darkest fears materialized as the doorknob turned and the door flung open, revealing the mass of arms poised on the other side.

The creature launched itself against the door with a thunderous force, sending ripples of vibration through the building. With determination it contorted and twisted, shedding numerous limbs in its attempt to infiltrate the guard shack. Although its sheer size made this a challenge, the monstrous entity wriggled its way inch by inch into the doorway.

After what felt like an eternity, the creature found itself more than halfway through the threshold. It would be inside the building within seconds. Understanding the urgency of the situation, Najee opened a nearby window and threw himself into it.

The mass of appendages lunged through the room towards the window in a desperate attempt to ensnare him, but Najee was dedicated to his own escape.

Regaining his footing, Najee raced to the gate as his fingers fumbled for his keys. In this dire situation, his priorities were clear. Calling for was ideal, but ensuring his own survival was first on the list. No paycheck could justify the horrors he faced tonight.

The creature attempted to contort itself through the window but redirected its efforts towards the door again. This redirection provided Najee the precious moments he needed to unlock the gate, yet an unexpected sight greeted him. A new padlock now replaced the already existing one. A gleaming four-digit combination lock replacing the weathered and corroded original. Despite the urgency of his situation, Najee's momentary focus shifted to this new addition.

A shiver of terror cascaded through him as he realized the dire truth. He was locked in. What once served as a protective perimeter, the factory wall had now transformed into an inescapable prison with this simple act. The safety it provided from the outside world had turned into confinement.

The continuous sound of the creature's struggle to exit the guard shack kept Najee's senses on edge, now compounded by the chilling revelation of its capability. Its actions made it seem like a wild animal on the hunt, yet it had the capacity to plan a trap and use a padlock. Actions of a skilled hunter with malicious intelligence.

This moment wasn't the time to dissect his pursuer's motives. Najee needed an escape route, and pronto. Sliding open the gate to the chain's maximum length he managed to create a meager seven-inch opening as he attempted to squirm through the gap like a contortionist. Despite his best efforts, the gap was just too small.

After fiddling with the chain in a desperate attempt for a longer leash, Najee mustered just an extra inch, bringing the gate's gap to eight inches. Each time he gulped down breaths and wedged himself into the gap, frustration was his only reward.

Glistening with sweat and fueled by adrenaline, Najee's physical reserves were dwindling at an alarming rate. Fatigue loomed over him as his arms and legs started to shake. The creature's renewed approach was accompanied by a disheartening sound of plastic clattering against the pavement.

His relentless pursuer danced around the guard shack, fixating its beady black eye on Najee, whose spirit remained unbroken despite his body's protests. With his options dwindling, Najee sized up his potential exits. He could perform a daring dive back through the shack's window on the left, while on the right he could squeeze past the monstrosity and the perimeter wall.

While the chase had Najee's nerves on edge, the creature's composure was unwavering in its pursuit. It crept forward as its hands and fingers waved with desperation seeking to ensnare their prey.

Despite his trembling form Najee's mind raced. Ideas of escape and survival echoing in his head. His swift calculations revealed the creature was closer to the guard shack than to the concrete wall. Like a bolt of lightning Najee shot toward the wall, with the creature closing ready to strike. Inches seemed like miles as Najee sprinted, his heart pounding in sync with his footsteps.

It was going to be close, so Najee leaped at the wall, intending to use it as a springboard to stay out of reach of the creature. But fate smirked as destiny tripped him up. The grip of his foot on the wall slipped causing him to fall back to the ground. As time slowed to a halt, Najee descended to the ground in tragedy. The ground smacked him with a resounding thud, and he cursed his choice of shoes that were ill-suited for such parkour heroics.

Struggling to regain his bearings, Najee fought to stand, but the chase was over. The hunter had triumphed. A collection of hands reached down, ensnaring him like a fly caught in a spider's web. More hands joined in clamping down on his limbs as if claiming a long-awaited prize.

Yet, Najee wasn't about to go down without a fight. His free hand balled into a fist as it arced through the air, connecting with one of the prosthetic arms in fiery desperation. The limb broke free from the creature and tumbled like a discarded toy to the ground.

Like an unrelenting tidal surge, a multitude of arms surged forth, converging to tighten their grip on Najee. Defiance still blazed in his eyes, a fierce refusal to embrace defeat. His vocal cords unleashed a raw primal scream, his limbs thrashed in a desperate attempt of resistance against his captor.

Amid this struggle, a stroke of improbable luck materialized as Najee's foot landed on the monster's invulnerable black eye inflicting a recoil of anguish. Recoiling by this attack, the multitude of arms furiously flung Najee around like an angry child with a rag doll. The malevolent entity moved him toward the concrete wall and slammed Najee into it.

A disorienting haze engulfed his mind, as Najee's body met the unyielding brick with the pain of agony. As the monster repeated this process, an unstoppable truth took shape. Najee's struggle was futile as he was held in the beast's grip. Yet, a whisper of defiance lingered in his consciousness which faded with every slam into the wall.

As Najee's sight started to fade to black, a cascade of sound, like the discordant melody of plastic upon asphalt, echoed through his ears once more. As unconsciousness claimed him, his final thoughts were of his wife and their unborn child. Would he ever see them again? Time bore his thoughts to silence, the abyss of unconsciousness eclipsing all.