She stirred in her sleep, her eyes open then squinted as she groggily got up. She looked around, rubbing her face. As she got up from off the ground, her attention was called to the clickety clack of the keyboard from the family computer.
Her nose picked up the scent of scrambled eggs as well as the sound of eggs frying in the pan.
She walked towards Darren who was by the computer, her keen eyes noticing the picture of the tattoo on his screen.
"What's up?" She yawned. He cast her sideline glance then chuckled.
"Sleeping Beauty finally woke up from her slumber," he shouted. "Good, I was about to use my taser on her," Ophelia shouted back from the kitchen.
She brushed aside a strain of her brown hair and sighed, amused. "You didn't answer my question," she grinned.
"I'm checking the internet for these symbols," he said, gesturing to the photo. She glanced at it then looked back at him.
"You took a picture of the body?" She asked incredulously.
"I had to figure it out. I…just feel an overwhelming need to know more about her," he glanced up at her. "Is that weird?"
Olivia shrugged.
The phone ringing pierced the silence.
Ophelia's footsteps echoed.
A click.
"Hello?"
A pause.
"Uh, yeah they're here."
Lia came into view. "It's for you. They say they're with...the country corner's office?"
Olivia dashed off, Darren close behind.
She took the phone. "Hello? Yes, this is Olivia speaking."
Her expression shifted.
"Oh my God...yes, we'll be right there."
She slammed the phone down. Darren shoved his hands in his pants. "What's up?'
"They have an identification on the girl," Olivia explained, chest heaving, face pale. Ophelia stepped forward, resting a hand on her shoulder. "That's great...so why are you freaking out?"
Her fingers trembled. She could still hear the corner's voice echoing in her head. She forced the words out as she looked at Ophelia and Darren. "The body is gone."
-
The door's bell jingled softly as the trio entered the building. The foyer was swarming with officers, speaking in low hushed tones.
The corner, spotting them, jogged over. "Are you...Olivia?"
Olivia nodded, body trembling as she pulled her hoodie tight around her.
"What's this about the body being gone?" Ophelia said, stepping forward. "Like it just got up, and walked away?"
"Perhaps," he responded vaguely. He gestured for them to follow him.
The three of them entered the morgue, Olivia's eyes bouncing to side of the place. She shivered, her hoodie failing to warm her.
Death encircled her it seemed.
She hated it.
The corner led them to one of the open shelves. Three men stood around it.
"The body was identified to be eighteen year old Elizabeth Jones," the corner explained. "This morning, her body has seemingly vanished."
"The hell it did!" A voice boomed.
Everyone turned.
A fifty year old man stormed towards them. His big brown moustache gave him a regal appearance. His khaki shirt hugged his around body, the perfect dad bod. His brown trousers were strained as he walked. Brown boots echoed in the deathly quiet halls, and a large rimmed hat hid his balding head.
"Dad!" Ophelia greeted.
Olivia swallowed hard.
Darren looked away.
"Yes, Mr. Moose," one of the men stepped forward. "It did run away."
The second turned, meeting Olivia.
Olivia quickly looked away.
"I think this some stupid prank," Mr. Moose snapped. "And a dam good one."
"Maybe. The cameras show nothing. No one entered, no one left," the corner muttered, frustration leaking into his voice. "How can that be?"
"It's no prank, Dad," Ophelia said quickly.
Mr. Moose turned, eyes blazing.
"Don't be mad at me," she said, arms raised. "They killed her."
"I didn't kill anyone, Dad," Olivia muttered.
Mr. Moose stepped forward, finger jabbed in her direction. "If you were drinking, or smoking again, Olivia, I swear to God...."
"I wasn't," Olivia said quickly.
This was a lie.
Her heart thudded. Not black out drunk—but enough to slow her reflexes. To question her reality.
Ophelia stepped between them, voice low but firm. "Back off, Dad. She's shaken up too."
Olivia said nothing. She didn't need to be defended.
Mr. Moose turned to one of the men present. "And you are?"
"We're FBI," he said, flashing his badge. "I'm Agent Hern and this is—"
"Agent Jackson," the other finished, nodding curtly.
Mr. Moose surged forward, shaking his hand eagerly. "Thank God. I pray you're here to make sense of all this?"
Agent Jackson offered a faint smile. "I'll try."
"Now" Agent Hern said, his tone firm but polite, "you all should head upstairs. We've like to ask a few of questions."
He gestured towards the stairs, ushering the locals ahead. The trio—Olivia, Darren, and Ophelia—moved to follow, but Agent Jackson raised a hand.
They halted in their tracks.
He pulled out a cigarette, lit it with a flicker of his lighter, and watched the flame dance for a bit. The door slammed shut behind the others
They were alone.
Agent Jackson took one long drag, then flicked the cigarette to the floor and crushed it beneath his foot. The silence grew heavy.
"I'll ask some questions," he said calmly, "and don't lie."
A beat passed.
"You know anything about Elizabeth Jones?"
The girls shook their head. "No," Olivia murmured
"Good," he said, eyes shifting to Darren. "And You?"
Darren shrugged, uneasy. "I—I told the cops everything. I hit her. I stayed at the scene. I didn't—"
Before he could finish, Agent Jackson grabbed him by the collar and slammed him hard into the morgue coolers.
Ophelia gasped. Olivia stepped back, stunned.
Jackson's voice dropped to a growl. "I'll make you wish you were dead, boy."
"Hey!" Ophelia said, surging forward.
Jackson spun, his arm snapping up as he drew his gun and cocked it in one smooth motion.
She froze mid-step.
He pressed the barrel under Darren's chin.
"Still wanna be funny?" He hissed. "Be my quest. But your girlfriend better get used to you not having a face."
Olivia glanced to Agent Jackson's wrist—his sleeve had slipped, revealing a tattoo. An eye encircled by strange symbols.
Her breath hitched. Eyes wide. Shoulders tense.
"He doesn't know anything else," Olivia said quickly, voice steady but cold. "That's all he and I know."
Agent Jackson looked at her. For a moment, his gaze lingered—calculating.
Then he released Darren.
His sleeve slid down, hiding the mark again.
"My apologizes," he said, smoothly holstering his gun. "This case....it gets to me and I want answers. "
The trio nodded, tight-lipped.
Jackson stepped forward, meeting Olivia's gaze with forced sympathy. "I can see you've all been through a lot. So have I. If you have remember anything—anything at all—please call me."
He held out a card.
Olivia hesitated.
Ophelia snatched it from his hand. "I'll be calling your supervisor."
Agent Jackson smirked, adjusting his lapel. "I'm sure you will, Ms. Moose."
He offered them a mock salute then turned and disappeared up the stairs. As soon as the door shut behind him, Olivia stepped closer to Darren. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I feel like you know something."
"I saw it," she said. "The tattoo. He has the same one as the girl."
Darren nodded grimly. "Figured. He probably thinks we know more than we should."
-
The trio emerged upstairs, stepping into a scene that felt surreal. Agent Hern, Mr. Moose and the corner were laughing—carefree, out of place.
Suspicions curled in Olivia's head like fog.
Was Agent Hern and Agent Jackson working together?
Did they take the girl's body?
And if so...why?
Agent Hern glanced at his watch. "I'm afraid I'd have to leave," he said with a polite smile. He rested his hands on the corner and Mr. Moose's shoulders. "It's been a pleasure gentlemen, truly."
Mr. Moose offered a smirk. "Safe travels, Agent."
Hern gave one last nod before turning to the door. Agent Jackson followed, meeting Olivia's gaze one final time.
The men exited, the bell above jingling as the door shut behind them.
"Those are good men," Mr. Moose said, folding his arms.
Olivia and Darren exchanged a long glance.
Those men were anything but good.