One morning I got ready for work and I had barely entered my car when I noticed that there’s a whining sound coming from the back. Uncertain of the reason, I turned in my seat searching for the source of the noise. Nothing seemed unusual, it was as I always kept it; cleansed and empty. I thought the side effect of having two tiring jobs has finally stretched out its hand and started messing with my brain. I chucked at that dubious idea and as I was about to insert my key into the ignition barrel when I heard the same noise but this time I recognized it as a human moan and it was coming from the trunk. Horrified from the event I opened my door and jolted swiftly outside and as I was walking gradually to behind my blue Cadillac I saw a big bald man wearing a black tuxedo strolling in the street and looking between the cars that were parked sideways. He was heading in my direction and suspicion wore him plainly. Intimidated by the event, I opened the compartment and to my prediction I saw a man lying still, he has obviously bled a lot according to his bloodied clothes. He looked at me and I saw his lips moving, sobbing the word “HELP”. I immediately realized the heat of the situation, the tuxedo man was getting closer and I had to do what’s necessary. I closed the trunk and walked back casually, entered the car and drove away. The tuxedo man appeared negligent of my presence through my rear view mirror as I was about to take a corner.
Once I was distant and safe, I pulled out my phone from my jacket and dialed my boss and told him that I was going to run late to work. After we hung up I called my friend.
Half an hour later, I reached a deserted land where my friend told me to meet him . I pulled off and reopened the trunk, another but stronger sobbing came out, “HELP!”
“For fuck’s sake. I thought you’re doing another prank!” my friend said, “I know what you’re thinking,” I replied.
“Isn’t he supposed to be dead?” my friend articulated the words.
“It’s not too late,” I said while pulling my suppressed .22 mm pistol.