"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!"
"Maammmmmaaaaaaa!!!!!!! Ahhhhhhhh!!!!!!"
The scream that erupted from Detective Evans was unbridled, raw, and—for a man his size—shockingly high-pitched. His partner, Detective Leon, wasn’t any better, his own shriek blending into a noise of panic that reverberated off around them.
The two n are known around their precinct as having burly physiques and being stoic, which were anything but that at that mont, especially with expressions and flailing arms like frightened children. Rationality had fled the scene as quickly as the figure of the most powerful man they had ever known, who had vanished before their very eyes.
They could not make sense of anything, and the only thing that they could do was scream out of pure instinct.
Leon’s wild, flailing arm smacked hard into sothing solid—a dashboard, maybe—and the sharp jolt of pain cut through the fog of terror gripping him. His screams stuttered to a halt, replaced by a string of incoherent mutterings as he cradled his arm, wincing but still maintaining a terrified look on his face. His chest heaved painfully, his heart racing as if it was trying to escape his ribcage.
"Evans!" Leon barked, trying to regain so semblance of control. It was almost like he was projecting his remnant fears in the form of anger on his partner. But his partner, Evans, was still lost in the throes of panic, flapping his hands wildly as if warding off invisible demons.
Leon groaned, a puzzling look crossing him as he took a good look at where they were. Evans’ screams were irritating him and disrupting the little thought process that Leon had left. Without thinking, he swung his good hand, smacking the back of Evans’ head.
"Pull yourself together, man! ... and stop acting like a little girl!"
Evans froze, his scream trailing off into a pathetic whimper. He blinked rapidly, looking around as if seeing the car in which both of them sat for the first ti. He was truly puzzled. "Wait... where... where are we?"
Leon didn’t answer imdiately, his own confusion mounting as he rubbed his arm and scanned their surroundings. The car was parked in front of the T-Vino Winery headquarters, the hum of a city in the distance, even though he could not hear anything at all. This wasn’t the precinct, and it sure as hell wasn’t the scene of whatever nightmare they’d just witnessed.
"I don’t know," Leon muttered, his voice low and shaky.
"We were in the office. Weren’t we in the office?" He double asked, as if seeking confirmation and reaching from the passenger set to grab Leo’s arms a little too hard.
Leon did not badge. He nodded hesitantly, his eyes darting around. "Yeah... yeah, we were."
Then, both of them asked, "How the hell did we get here?!"
Before either could piece together an answer, a soft knock on the driver’s side window startled them. Both n jumped, their heads snapping towards the source. Standing just outside the car was a woman, her radiant smile and impeccably styled appearance starkly out of place against their haggard, terror-stricken states.
She was stunning—her formal dress fluttered in the gentle breeze, her hair perfectly coiffed—and she radiated calm confidence. At one glance, they knew that she was a receptionist at the T-Vino winery. But why did this feel like a déjà vu situation to them? It was as if they had seen that exact scenario before.
"Welco, Detectives; I hope you’ve had a good day!" The lady greeted them cheerfully as soon as Leon rolled down his window.
"You are right on ti! I’ve been waiting."
Leon and Evans stared at her, mouths agape. The contrast of their sweaty, dishevelled appearances with her composed elegance was painfully awkward. It was too awkward and embarrassing to be seen like this by a pretty girl, even if she was a receptionist.
Leon, still pale, coughed and attempted to sit up straighter, though his trembling hands betrayed him.
"Uh... afternoon, ma’am." His voice cracked, earning a subtle smirk from Leon. However, Evans was not faring much better. He cleared his throat and tried to muster so of his usual bravado. "Yeah, uh... sorry about that. We were just, uh... discussing... tactics."
"Yh... tactics! Like when we chance on a suspect and he screams....."
Evans bit his lip and muttered to himself, ’What the fuck am I saying!? It’s so embarrassing!’
The woman’s gaze flicked between the two n; her smile unwavering but her arched brow suggesting she wasn’t buying it.
"Of course," she said smoothly, stepping back to allow them so space. She had seen her share of more than this in her daily work at the T-Vino wineries, but she wasn’t about to embarrass them as her job had thought her to. Detectives Leon and Evans exchanged a look inside the car, their earlier panic giving way to a mortified silence.
"Tactics?" Leon whispered disbelievingly, "That’s all you could co up with?"
"What? You got sothing better?" Evans shot back, rubbing his temple.
Detective Leon huffed, trying to suppress the heat rising to his face. "Let’s just... pretend that didn’t happen."
"Agreed," Evans muttered, straightening his uniform as best as he could before stepping out of the car.
The two had taken out their rarely worn formal uniform to co for this visit. Even though none of them said anything, their red ears and face gave away their state of mind. However, as the receptionist’s amused gaze lingered on them, neither could shake the feeling that their screaming would haunt them far longer than whatever nightmare had landed them here in the first place.
She waited patiently for them to step out of the car. Leon was the first to step, and Evans briskly walked out, straightening his attire as he rounded the car.
’...you can go right in. Assistant Currey will et you at the elevators...’ The thought occurred to both detectives as if they were expecting this statent but then, the young woman bowed heavily,
"I’m sorry, gentlen. Mr. Thornston had sothing to do at the last minute, and we had to cancel your eting with him. Assistant Currey is also engaged and will not be able to et you. He will reach out to you to reschedule the ti. We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience."
Evans and Leon exchanged glances,
"It’s okay; we understand that Chairman Ian is a busy man. We will talk to assistant Currey later then. Thank you for your ti."
They bowed to the receptionist.
"Wait, this is a small package for your inconvenience..."
She handed them two bottles of their most popular and expensive wine.
’This is worth two salaries of mine,’ Evans thought and tried to push it back.
However, the receptionist bowed and briskly left the two n.
They turned to each other, and then Evans asked,
"What were we screaming about?"
Leon furrowed his brows....
"I don’t know. That’s so weird. Was I so sleep-deprived and frustrated to shout like that here?"
The two n hopped into the car, trying hard to rember what had happened before, but they had no recollection at all.
"I think I need to take that vacation... right after this case, if all I did was drive from the station to co here and scream like a little bitch!"
"Watch your mouth!"
"Whatever!"
Even though Leon said this, he was sure that sothing had happened, but as to what? He was unsure.
’Is this what they call a shared dream?’ The two thought to themselves, but since none of them could piece together their incoherent thoughts, they did not speak a word of it. Leon especially noticed that with each passing second, his mind got foggier. Just then, Leon’s phone buzzed.
"Where are you guys?" an angry and impatient voice asked,
"At the T-Vino ...."
"What are you doing there?!" The voice interrupted with a snap!
"Didn’t we tell you that a body has washed up ashore? What are you still doing there? Get your arses here ASAP!!!!"
"Yes, Sir!"
***
The afternoon sun struggled to pierce through the thick mist hanging over the shore, its weak light casting an eerie grey blanket across the waves. Considering what was happening on that shore, it made the afternoon even drearier than it was. The rhythmic crash of water against the jagged rocks was interrupted by the faint cries of gulls circling overhead, their calls strangely mournful.
n in uniform milled around, and distant sirens were heard as well. Nestled in the wet sand, half-subrged by the gentle ebb of the tide, lay a figure. The body, limp and pale, looked almost like a discarded doll.
Seaweed tangled around the legs, clinging like nature’s futile attempt to reclaim it. The wrinkled and waterlogged skin bore the telltale signs of ti spent adrift, and faint bruises peeked through, though it was unclear if they were from life or the ocean’s rciless grasp.
A faint breeze carried the sharp, nauseating scent of salt and decay, which made newbies at the scene recoil.
This had been the sa for the man who had chanced upon this. He had frozen, his breath catching in his throat as his gaze fixed on the lifeless form. The stranger’s mind raced—Was this real? A trick of the light? But as he stepped closer, the details beca undeniable. ’I should have stayed at ho! Why did I co out today? Fuck!’
The hair, darkened and matted by seawater, clung to the skull, obscuring much of the face. A single shoe, sodden and caked with sand, remained on one foot while the other was bare, toes curled unnaturally. A distant wave surged forward, licking at the body as though reluctant to let it go entirely.
The stranger’s trembling hand reached for his phone, his voice hoarse as he fumbled to call for help. In the stillness of that mont, the beach seed to hold its breath, the waves growing quieter, the gulls’ cries fading.
Only the sound of his shallow breathing and the muted hiss of retreating water remained, a grim symphony for the discovery of a soul lost to the sea. It had not taken long for lots of n in uniform to start crawling around there as the place was fenced off.
___
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