04 February 2014

Verbum: Prologue





Work was a bitch today. That was being kind, thought Macy as she trudged up the flights of stairs to her apartment unit fourteen floors up. It was actually horrible beyond description. Earlier this morning, she came in two hours late because of the cool late January weather and the unforgiving traffic jam along EDSA. At work, her boss was pressing her about the set quota for the week that she was nowhere near hitting and it’s already the weekend. Sales were slow. Most potential customers really don’t buy their practically unknown brand of expensive appliances. During lunch, her boyfriend brought her a liver stew. She doesn’t eat liver and was wondering if it was a prank played on her by him. He did promise to take her home after work which, after three hours of sitting at a nearby cafĂ©, did not happen. Apparently, he was stuck in a sudden mandatory overtime at work and that was when she decided to just go home on her own.

She fumbled for her keys in her bag, which irritated her because it took longer than expected. Why do keys have to be at the innermost corners of everything? She just sighed after realizing that her annoyance came from exhaustion. Murphy’s Law wasn’t too kind on her and it had been a very long day.


She turned the knob. Did she just imagine that the door was unlocked or she was just distracted from being tired? She decided she doesn’t care. There was nothing too valuable inside her apartment aside from those things she kept in her bag. She threw it on the table by the door, kicked off her high-heeled shoes (they’re starting to hurt), and headed to the kitchen to get a glass of water. She noticed the kitchen window was slightly opened and there was a draft coming in. Or was it going out? It was the  post-holiday season, the air is chilly and it really doesn’t matter how it moves as long as it’s there, a comfort from the otherwise hot tropical breeze you get most of the year.

She was busy looking at her fridge, thinking of what to have for dinner that was quick and easy. She didn’t notice a shadow rising up from behind her past the kitchen counter, slowly moving towards her, whispering dark words…



Fourteen floors down and three minutes later, Macy was found with a fractured skull and a bleeding hand holding a shattered drinking glass.




Photo credit here.

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