The Mission Flash fiction

The Mission

Anna Stott



The name, Jacob, came to her again, as it had for the past three weeks. It had started coming to her just a few times a day and now was almost with her constantly. She thought, perhaps, it was something in the building, since it had started when she began her job there as a dental hygienist. She wanted to tell Jack, or anyone, but thought it was too ludicrous to speak of, so she went through her days with the name haunting her.

It was the third week, and the first night when she woke up screaming, "Mother--Mother I am here!" It was not a ferrous scream, but an assuring one.

Jack held her tightly rocking her back and forth saying, "It was just a dream, Nora, just a dream. You're alright now."

Nora had shaken her head, "Jack, you know I never knew my mother. She died three months after I was born." She rubbed her forehead. "Why would I be dreaming of her now?"

"I don't know, sweetheart. There aren't answers for everything." He sighed. "What was the dream about?" Nora looked at him perplexed. "I--she wanted me to be safe. That's all I can remember."

He pulled her close to him. "Well, you're safe with me. I'll hold you until you can fall back to sleep." BR She nodded her head and snuggled closer to Jack. "You know, my father told me she was a seer."

"A seer?" Jack chuckled.

"Only erratically, and it was never lucky things like the lottery. But she predicted her own murder." Nora sighed. "She didn't know when or how it would happen; only that it was going to happen."

"Your father was a fanciful man; Superstitious." He rubbed her back. "Now try and get some sleep, hum?"

Though Jack was asleep in seconds, Nora couldn't sleep. Her mind was on her mother. Was there some meaning to this dream?

The next day at work, while updating patients' charts on her computer, which she did every Thursday, she looked down to see the words; Jacob-Help-Byberry-313-C. She stared at the words. Had she typed them or had they just appeared? But how? Why? She did not feel fearful, but compelled now to find the answers about Jacob.

"What's this?" Colin, a coworker, asked, startling Nora.

She shook her head. "I don't know"

"Byberry is the mental hospital around the corner. It's been closed for over ten years now. The teenagers hang out in there a lot." He paused. "It's going to be demolished starting next week, you know?"

"No, I don't know anything about the place."

He patted her shoulder. "Surely we have a practical joker here, but how did they hack the system?" He furrowed his brow. "I'm going to call in a technician to check this out."

"Yes." Nora said, still staring at the screen. She turned and picked up the phone to call Jack and tell him about what was going on, but decided it best not too. After last night he would, no doubt, think she had gone mad. She started to plot ways to find this 'Jacob' on her own.

That evening she left work at four-thirty. She and Jack had dinner at six, cleaned the dishes and tidy the kitchen as always. They watched television until ten and then both headed to bed. Once Jack was asleep, Nora dressed in a dark blue sweat suit, stuck her driver's license in her pocket, took the flash light from under Jack's side of the bed and drove to Byberry.

She sat there in the car staring at the dilapidated buildings. The grounds were overgrown with trees and the weeds, at some places, were thigh deep. She took a deep breath, got out of the car and tentatively headed towards the hospital. She found building "C" quickly. Upon entering the building she recoiled from the stench of musty beer and old urine. Wincing, she re-entered the building.

The steady glow of her flashlight revealed peeling paint, rotting floorboards, years of refuse, and graffiti smeared on every flat surface. Wading through trash, she navigated the main corridor and found the stairwell. She gazed up the uneven steps, following the light's path to the darkness of the third floor. A rat darted from under the closest pile of debris, tiny nails chattering on the cement floor, and disappearing from her too-small circle of light. She whimpered before she could muffle the moan and then, recollecting her resolve, raised her foot to the first riser and then the second until she reached the top of the stairs, across the corridor, stood the door of room 313.

She paused at doorway and then slowly pushed the dilapidated panel open. She scanned the room with her flashlight. It was empty. The floorboards buckled slightly under her weight as she stepped toward the center of the strangely terrifying chamber. A rattle startled her. The boarded up window was not sealed properly and clattered against the building. Cool air eddied around her sending an eerie chill down her spine.

She had enough. There was no one here. It had all been a joke or a figment of her imagination. She headed back toward the door, but it slammed shut. Surprised, she lurched at the door and tugged at the handle, it did not open. Fear tickling her guts, she pulled more strongly, but the door would not give. BR "You came." A deep voice echoed as though the empty room were as big as a cathedral.

She whirled around, casting the flashlight into the corners. "Jacob?"

"You have come to me."

Nora paused. She trembled with fright, nearly dropping her light. "Y--yes," she stammered.

"I can leave here with my mission finished."

"Leave here? Your mission?"

"Soon You'll see."

"How did you get me here? The letter on the computer-- how did you do that?"

Jacob laughed, deep and evilly, "Telepathy. You've heard of it?"

She shone the flashlight around the room again; there still was nothing to see. "Yes, of course. You used that?"

"Yes, anyone can. But only a few special ones can receive. Your mother could."

"My mother?"

"Yes, My twelfth mission."

Nora felt lightheaded. She leaned against the filthy wall and let her body slid down to the floor until she was in a sitting position. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them tightly. "You lie!" she whispered. "Show yourself. Prove yourself!"

She heard a floorboard creak and crack. "They never knew I kept this. I fooled them-- Hid it from them."

She felt something flutter to her legs. It was an old newspaper clipping dated January 2nd, 1969. The headlines read: "Mission Serial Murderer incompetent to stand trial…" She looked at the picture accommodating the article. Though it was yellow and worn with age, she could see a man, a normal looking man. Except for his eyes - she could see pure evil flickering in them. Beneath the picture was the name Jacob Booker. She felt panic bubble through her body. She clambered from the floor, letting the newspaper clipping flutter away from her.
"Why are you doing this?" she sobbed. "You killed my mother! You kidnapped her. You stabbed her. She died alone! You stole her from me! Why?"

"I am Jacob. It was my mission."

Nora closed her eyes. "There is no mission!"

He laughed heartily then said, "Yes, this is my mission. The special ones; The different ones. They come to me. As you did, as your mother did. As they all did. That's how I knew they were my missions. I never chose. They did. She did. You did. Understand now?"

"No, I don't understand!" she cried, though she did - completely. Her pulse was racing wildly. She had to get out. She felt suffocated. She beat on the stubborn door, shrieking, "Help me! Someone help me please!" Tears mixed with the grime on her cheeks and splashed her hands.

"You can't escape - yourself or my mission." He sighed. "I tried to let it go but now, with one week left, you have come to me."

"You're insane," she screamed, "Insane!" She wiped her face with her sleeve shirt.

Jacob laughed, amused. "So they said thirty-three years ago."

"You're a ghost and no ghost can harm me!" Nora heard the boards on the glassless window clapping. Was he trying to get in? Could she get out? She raced towards the empty frame and, with all her frightened strength, pushed against the boards. The wood, as rotten and diseased as the rest of the building, shredded like wet tissue.
While falling, she heard Jacob whisper, "Lucky thirteen. My mission is complete."

Saturday morning Daily Newspaper: 'Nora Williams, 33, died of accidental causes. She is survived by her husband, Jack Williams, and had no other living relatives. Several local teenagers discovered Mrs. Williams on the grounds of the former Byberry Mental Hospital where she apparently fell from a third story window. There seems to be no explanation...'
© Anna Stott 2003
This Story was first published at "Distantworlds.net" I thank, Christopher for having faith in my work and publishing this story.

Welcome to my new blog sight

Hi Everyone,
Welcome to my new blog. I hope to add a few short stories for everyone to read as I am still
revising my book "Seven Hills" (A Spell).

I knew i wanted to be a writer when I was very young. I want to write books and stories that made people feel happy. Well, that didn't work out all; I write mainly Horror stories and, as I wrote above, I just finished an occult mystery book, with a dash of humor in it--because my father always taught me that you can find humor in almost any situation.

I hope to meet other writers who share their work in their blogs and also, people like myself,
who love to read.
Anna