Story code: ST-000109
Part 1: The Back Door
Dr. Evans refused to lift his gaze from the scuffed linoleum of the breakroom floor. He stood with his shoulders hunched, pressing his back against the employee bulletin board as if trying to merge with the cork. He pushed a thin manila envelope across the laminate table. His fingers trembled so violently that the paper made a dry, rhythmic scraping sound against the surface. He stated that her employment as his senior dental hygienist was terminated, effective immediately.
Chloe stood frozen by the coffee machine. She had just finished polishing a patient’s crowns and still had her pink disposable mask pulled down around her neck. She stated she needed a reason, leaning forward slightly to catch her employer’s eye. Dr. Evans flinched. He pulled his hands back tightly against his chest, completely avoiding her face. He instructed her to gather her coat and purse right away. He insisted she exit through the rear loading dock by the medical waste dumpsters, stressing that she was absolutely forbidden from stepping foot in the patient waiting room.
Chloe demanded to know what was happening. Dr. Evans turned his back on her, pacing rapidly toward the rear corridor. He escorted her with a stiff, frantic gait, staying a full four feet away as if she carried a lethal contagion. He opened the heavy metal security door, gesturing frantically for her to step out into the cold morning air. Before she could utter another word, the metal door slammed shut, the deadbolt engaging with a loud, metallic crack.
She stood alone in the alley, the severance envelope clutched tightly against her chest. The smell of rotting cardboard and damp pavement filled the narrow space. Her uniform pocket suddenly buzzed. It was not a single, polite vibration, but a continuous, erratic drill against her hip bone. Chloe reached in and pulled out her smartphone.
The screen was a solid, glowing block of white, completely frozen under the strain of massive data intake. A long second later, the display flickered to life. A waterfall of banners cascaded down the glass in a dizzying blur of motion. There were Instagram mentions, Twitter tags, direct messages, and hundreds of text messages from area codes she had never seen. The text scrolled past her eyes too fast to process in full, but individual words jumped out in bold, hateful urgency. Monster. Disgusting. Burn.
She tapped the green messaging icon to read a text from an unknown number. The screen hitched, loading a massive wall of pure vitriol. The sender instructed her to lock her doors and hide. Another message immediately popped up over it, stating she deserved to be dragged through the public square. Her phone grew physically hot in her palm, the battery straining to process the incoming flood. The device emitted a shrill, digital stutter. Then the screen went entirely black, completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of hostile traffic.
A cold spike of adrenaline shot through her chest. Chloe threw the dead brick of a phone into her leather purse and sprinted toward the employee parking lot. She fumbled her keys, scratching the paint on her driver-side door before throwing herself into the seat and hitting the master lock button. She jammed the key into the ignition, her hands shaking just as badly as Dr. Evans had been shaking inside the clinic.
The drive back to her neighborhood was a blur of erratic lane changes and shallow, hyperventilating breaths. Every time another driver glanced in her direction at a red light, she slouched down in her seat, utterly convinced they recognized her from whatever nightmare was unfolding on the internet. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned a stark, bruised white.
She finally turned onto Elm Street, desperate for the quiet sanctuary of her own house. The tires of her sedan squealed sharply against the curb as she took the final turn much too fast. She pressed the garage door remote clipped to her sun visor, expecting the familiar mechanical grind of the opening sequence. Nothing happened. As she pulled forward into the driveway, her foot slammed hard on the brake pedal.
The pristine white aluminum of her garage door was completely obliterated by wet, dripping crimson paint. The word ABUSER stretched across the entire width of the double doors, the letters jagged, massive, and furious. The heavy, chemical stench of fresh aerosol spray drifted right through her vehicle’s climate control vents.
Three people stood on the sidewalk at the very edge of her front lawn. They were total strangers. A young man in a dark grey hoodie held a smartphone up, the camera lenses pointed directly at her windshield. A woman standing right next to him shouted something indistinguishable, her face twisted in a mask of absolute disgust. She pointed a rigid finger at the car, taking a bold, aggressive step onto the private grass.
Chloe threw the car into reverse. Her tires spun wildly against the damp pavement, kicking up small clouds of white smoke. Before she could back out into the open street, a dark grey SUV pulled up horizontally, completely blocking the end of the driveway. The driver of the SUV rolled down the window and leaned out, holding up another phone to record her. Chloe slammed both palms against the steering wheel in sheer terror. She pressed her back against the center console, trying to make herself small. A heavy, closed fist pounded violently against her rear passenger window.
Dr. Evans refused to lift his gaze from the scuffed linoleum of the breakroom floor. He stood with his shoulders hunched, pressing his back against the employee bulletin board as if trying to merge with the cork. He pushed a thin manila envelope across the laminate table. His fingers trembled so violently that the paper made a dry, rhythmic scraping sound against the surface. He stated that her employment as his senior dental hygienist was terminated, effective immediately.
Chloe stood frozen by the coffee machine. She had just finished polishing a patient’s crowns and still had her pink disposable mask pulled down around her neck. She stated she needed a reason, leaning forward slightly to catch her employer’s eye. Dr. Evans flinched. He pulled his hands back tightly against his chest, completely avoiding her face. He instructed her to gather her coat and purse right away. He insisted she exit through the rear loading dock by the medical waste dumpsters, stressing that she was absolutely forbidden from stepping foot in the patient waiting room.
Chloe demanded to know what was happening. Dr. Evans turned his back on her, pacing rapidly toward the rear corridor. He escorted her with a stiff, frantic gait, staying a full four feet away as if she carried a lethal contagion. He opened the heavy metal security door, gesturing frantically for her to step out into the cold morning air. Before she could utter another word, the metal door slammed shut, the deadbolt engaging with a loud, metallic crack.
She stood alone in the alley, the severance envelope clutched tightly against her chest. The smell of rotting cardboard and damp pavement filled the narrow space. Her uniform pocket suddenly buzzed. It was not a single, polite vibration, but a continuous, erratic drill against her hip bone. Chloe reached in and pulled out her smartphone.
The screen was a solid, glowing block of white, completely frozen under the strain of massive data intake. A long second later, the display flickered to life. A waterfall of banners cascaded down the glass in a dizzying blur of motion. There were Instagram mentions, Twitter tags, direct messages, and hundreds of text messages from area codes she had never seen. The text scrolled past her eyes too fast to process in full, but individual words jumped out in bold, hateful urgency. Monster. Disgusting. Burn.
She tapped the green messaging icon to read a text from an unknown number. The screen hitched, loading a massive wall of pure vitriol. The sender instructed her to lock her doors and hide. Another message immediately popped up over it, stating she deserved to be dragged through the public square. Her phone grew physically hot in her palm, the battery straining to process the incoming flood. The device emitted a shrill, digital stutter. Then the screen went entirely black, completely overwhelmed by the sheer volume of hostile traffic.
A cold spike of adrenaline shot through her chest. Chloe threw the dead brick of a phone into her leather purse and sprinted toward the employee parking lot. She fumbled her keys, scratching the paint on her driver-side door before throwing herself into the seat and hitting the master lock button. She jammed the key into the ignition, her hands shaking just as badly as Dr. Evans had been shaking inside the clinic.
The drive back to her neighborhood was a blur of erratic lane changes and shallow, hyperventilating breaths. Every time another driver glanced in her direction at a red light, she slouched down in her seat, utterly convinced they recognized her from whatever nightmare was unfolding on the internet. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned a stark, bruised white.
She finally turned onto Elm Street, desperate for the quiet sanctuary of her own house. The tires of her sedan squealed sharply against the curb as she took the final turn much too fast. She pressed the garage door remote clipped to her sun visor, expecting the familiar mechanical grind of the opening sequence. Nothing happened. As she pulled forward into the driveway, her foot slammed hard on the brake pedal.
The pristine white aluminum of her garage door was completely obliterated by wet, dripping crimson paint. The word ABUSER stretched across the entire width of the double doors, the letters jagged, massive, and furious. The heavy, chemical stench of fresh aerosol spray drifted right through her vehicle’s climate control vents.
Three people stood on the sidewalk at the very edge of her front lawn. They were total strangers. A young man in a dark grey hoodie held a smartphone up, the camera lenses pointed directly at her windshield. A woman standing right next to him shouted something indistinguishable, her face twisted in a mask of absolute disgust. She pointed a rigid finger at the car, taking a bold, aggressive step onto the private grass.
Chloe threw the car into reverse. Her tires spun wildly against the damp pavement, kicking up small clouds of white smoke. Before she could back out into the open street, a dark grey SUV pulled up horizontally, completely blocking the end of the driveway. The driver of the SUV rolled down the window and leaned out, holding up another phone to record her. Chloe slammed both palms against the steering wheel in sheer terror. She pressed her back against the center console, trying to make herself small. A heavy, closed fist pounded violently against her rear passenger window.