Trench

Looking down at my watch, it displayed, 9:15, October fourteen. My finger tapped as we waited patiently for our waiter. The dining room is chattery, yet manageable. The chandelier radiated a soft golden glow. The high-end chairs and tables are made of mahogany. The tablecloth is pure, not a blemish or a stain. The barren plate mocked my hunger; to the left were my forks, and to the right were my knife and spoon; each polished and a shimmering silver. I took a swig of wine, its bitter taste soothed my tongue. Across the table, my lovely fiancé dressed in red, rambled about our upcoming wedding with her shiny engagement ring.

Lost in thought, “Oh, Alice, My lovely flower In a bland sea of green. How I love and cherish you; I can't wait to call you my wife.”

“Oliver, Oliver!” snatching me from my phantasy. “ The waiter is here.”

Surprised, I looked up to see the younger waiter. His hair was neatly combed to the side, paired with a waistcoat, black khaki, and polished shoes. I skimmed through the menu before settling for the classic steak, medium rare.

“I guess, I’ll have the chicken salad with extra croutons,” said Alice.

“ Very well, and thank you for dining with us,” said the waiter.

He left, but not before filling my glass with a deep ruby red wine.

“So, what got your mind in the gutters?” Asked Alice.

“Your beauty,” A straight simple reply.

Her soft giggles made me fall for her all over again. Our meal arrived, and my steak was at perfect temperature. It glistened as I cut into it. We enjoyed our meal, much to our delight. We left the fine diner heavily satisfied. We were making our way to my car when Alice suggested that we should take a stroll to the nearby park. I felt uneasy since it was pretty late, however, the glee in her eyes waned my heart. We walked through the dimly lit sidewalk. She lovingly clung to my arm. I felt like a big man ready to protect her; ready for anything. The cool night air softly howled and grazed our faces, causing her to shiver. I removed my long coat and covered her with it; we shared a tender kiss. The night is a bit murky; the street lamp was our only savior. We were halfway when the lamps began to flicker. It finally stabilized, giving us a scare.

“Why don't we head back,” said a spooked Alice.

I, not wanting to look weak, insisted that we continue. We had a slight bicker before continuing. She clung to me a bit harder. I was driven by ego. The lights flicker once more, this time shutting off completely. Alice let out a scream.

Calming her down I said,“ Don’t worry, let me turn on my flashlight and we can head back,” finally admitting defeat.

I patted myself, temporarily letting her go from my grasp. Finally, I found my phone in my back pocket. As I fumbled with the phone the lamps simultaneously turned back on.

“Oh, would you look at that,” said Oliver with gladness. Turning around he saw nothing but his long coat on the ground.

“ Alice? Alice!?” he frantically looked for her, but nothing, not a trace; calling the police; The operator was getting irritated with my hysterical incoherent blabber.

“ Calm down Sir, help is on the way,” said the operator.

The once lonely and dark stretch was now lively with flashes of red and blue. I was dazed and hunched over. An officer came over and placed a blanket over me.

I kept murmuring “It's my fault, my ego.”

“Tell me what happened, son” Looking up I saw the officer’s face. He had a rouged face, the face of a seasoned officer. I went back to whimpering. He grabbed me peering into my soul. “tell me what happened.” I began to tell him how we left the restaurant and wanted to have a short stroll. I told him how the lights flickered and the next thing I knew she was gone. He looked disappointed as he got up to talk to his fellow officer.

I watched the two discussions before asking “What should I do now?”

He pulled out his card and handed it to me, “ Go home, we will be in touch, and if anything comes up let us know right away.”

A different officer walked me back to my car, “Are you alright to go home?”

“Yeah,” I replied.

I sat in my twiddling with the card, “Detective Raymond.”

I drove home and cried my eyes out on my bed, then I received a notification. It was an email at three in the morning. It had a strange email address, “[email protected]”

I couldn't believe my eyes as I read the email. “Hello there, Oliver Davis Thatcher I know you are wallowing in your misery over the loss of your fiancé. She is doing well; please humor me and you may see her again, also don’t contact the police, they can't help you anyways.”

Oliver is shocked that this anonymous person knows his full name.

I began to write a draft, “Who the hell are you, and what happened to my fiancé? How did you get my email and how do you know my full name?” I clicked send, and almost instantly a message came back, “I hear everything. Go get some sleep.” I was furious.

I sent another email. “How can I sleep knowing my fiancé is missing?”

There was nothing. It was very late now, but I couldn't sleep. I stared at my phone waiting for it to ping. I also thought about reporting it but decided against it; before I knew it I was fast asleep. I awoke to a phone call, I quickly rushed over to pick it up.

“Hello?” I said cautiously; the voice on the other end was my boss. “Are you going to be in for work?” beginning to break down as I told him my situation. He seems to have an understanding. “Well take as long as you need.”

I sat down with my head in my hands.

Ding*

I quickly looked, it was an email from the same sender, “ Set up dinner, Red wine, Alfredo. Tonight at eight.”

I was getting annoyed and angry, so I drafted another message, “ Is this a game to you? Who are you? Why are you doing this?” I got a reply right away, it was an image of Alice's heels with the caption “Don't question me.”

I quickly got in my car and ran to the nearby supermarket to pick up the ingredients. Upon returning I started cooking right away. Oliver began to set the table. Two plates and utensils on either side. He stared at the clock on the wall reading 5:32. “ Two hours and Twenty-eight minutes.” Just then there was a knock. Oliver slowly rose; he opened the door and it was Detective Raymond.

“May I come in?”

Oliver let him through.

“Smells good in here”

Oliver said nothing.

The detective understood. “ I am here to ask if you have any new info that would help us.”

Oliver thought about revealing the email he had been getting, however he chose to remain silent.

“I see that you are hurt, son. I was just checking up on you. If you have anything, let me know.” The officer got up to leave, “wait” shouted Oliver. Raymond watched as Oliver headed to his room. Emerged once more and handed the officer back his card. Raymond was confused but said nothing, bidding him farewell. Oliver began to lose his nerves as the time got close. It was now down to the minute. He stared at the steam dancing from the plate of Alfredo. There was a knock on the door, Oliver took deep breaths and opened the door. There he came face to face with a tall slim man with a trench coat. He had the widest smile on his face. Oliver lunged at him.

“Give me back my fiancé!”

“Get off me!” shouted the man.

Detective Raymond came and broke the men up. He quickly apprehended the guy and had the whole building surrounded. He handed him off to his colleague.

“I got your message” Showing him the note on the back of the card.

Took the man down to the station for interrogation. Oliver insisted he wanted to be there. They took the man to the interrogation room. He seemed shaken, spilling the beans instantly. It turned out that he was a singing telegram. They pressed him for information, however, it was all for not.

“They paid in cash through an anonymous letter, that's all I know.”

They ran the man’s details and in fact, he was telling the truth. The police had no choice but to let him go. The atmosphere was full of dread; Oliver buried his head in his hands. A few officers came over to comfort him. They were finalizing the man’s release when an officer rushed in calling out to Raymond.

“Raymond!, Raymond! We got something here!”

He rushed over to see the colleague holding a small rectangular jewelry box. He lifted it open to reveal something that made him gagged. Oliver hearing the commotion tried to get closer; Raymond turned and held him back, “I’ll tell you later. I’ll tell you later,” he repeated.

The two struggled for a bit until Oliver caught a glimpse. He broke down in tears, falling to his knees. Everyone stood over him, helpless.

“It may not be her,” whispered Raymond.

Inside the box was a finger with a ring on it; it looked just like the one Alice wore.

“ Sir, Sir, there is something for you.”

Under the finger was a recorder with the name “Raymond” on it. Raymond hesitated a bit before picking it up and pressing play. The recorder played a bit of static before a distorted voice spoke. “ Hello Raymond, I hope you are having a great evening. My name is The Trench and I wish you all well. I know you are all huddled over trying to hear this.” The voice started listing people in the room, “Raymond, Bill, Larry, Clara, Joe, Tim, Jerry, Mary, Liz, Rose, and of course My lovely traitor Oliver. I'm sorry that the crew had to see the finger, but I must set an example for those who don't follow directions. Oliver, my sweet dear Oliver, why must you disobey me?” Oliver lashed at the recording as if it could hear him. The voice continued, “Come now, this was all your own doing. To all the officers this matter no longer concerns you, I must ask that you all be dismissed for you will never find me. The Trench knows you, but you do not know The Trench.” The recording ends. The room fell silent trying to process what had happened.

Raymond touched Oliver’s shoulder, “We’ll find them.”

He shrugged him off and slowly walked out of the station. Days go by and nothing, not a message, not a peep. Oliver was drinking himself to death when he received a knock at the door; It was Detective Raymond.

“May I come in?” Oliver motioned for him to enter.

Oliver stumbled to his seat, “What brings you here?”

“I have good and bad news.” He paused for a bit. “Which do you prefer?” Oliver just waved him off. “Alright, the finger was indeed Alice’s.” Oliver burst into tears; Raymond continued, “However we retrieved a couple of fingerprints on the ring and box. We got a match.” Oliver shot up, “who was it!” Raymond settled him down, “It seems like he had other victims when we raided the home. The bad news is that we didn’t find her. Upon entering he started gouging out his tongue. Get sober, we will be going forward.” Raymond left Oliver to weep. Three months went by and the killer was on trial. Oliver watched as they wheeled him in, he bore an orange jumpsuit, he was shaven bald, and had self-inflicted scars all over his face. His name is Walter Victor. The judge sentenced him to death by lethal injection. The day finally arrived. Oliver sat behind a one-way mirror watching as they prepared Walter. The priest read him his last rites before the practitioner dealt the lethal concoction. Oliver noticed that Walter kept staring at him even though he shouldn't be able to see.

“Time of death, 10:11 am.”

Oliver leaves not knowing how to feel. Two years went by and Oliver sat on a bench under a street lamp. A tall man dressed in a black trench coat with a tall hat approached standing at the opposite end of the bench. He paid no mind to the man; before long he felt something breathing down his neck. Out of his peripheral vision, he noticed the man’s grin

Whispering into his ears, “ Hello Oliver, did you find solace in the death of Walter?” His heart began to race. The man continued, “ I am The Trench, and just like you, Walter was playing a different game, Also you know what today is? That's right, Happy wedding day! ” Oliver turned to see that The Trench had stretched its head across the bench to his ear; He watched as he slowly retracted. Oliver was frozen with fear. The Trench slowly walked in front of him, turning and revealing what was under his trench coat.

Oliver’s eyes widened as he saw what The Trench was holding.

“That’s her."