Chapter 1: A Late-Night Trek

After spending months engrossed in various writing endeavors, taking a moment to enjoy a creative piece felt incredibly refreshing.

The sound of heels striking the pavement grows louder and quicker, matching the frantic rhythm of my heartbeat. The realization that someone might be trailing me sends my palms into a sweat, and I struggle to maintain calm breaths. I quicken my pace, too frightened to glance back, and try to cross the street with as much composure as my trembling legs allow.

As the footsteps begin to dissipate, relief floods through me, and my racing heart starts to settle. I let out a shaky breath, scolding myself for my overreaction to what was likely a false alarm.

For the past three days, I had been at an Interior Design trade show, culminating in tonight’s award ceremony. Now, I find myself regretting my choice of hotel, as I face a twelve-block walk back in an unfamiliar city with no taxis in sight.

To make matters worse, my co-worker Jan had backed out at the last minute, opting for a spontaneous trip to Mexico. Using her charm, she managed to convince our boss, Mike—whom she affectionately refers to as "Magic Mike"—to send me in her stead. This felt akin to a bounty being placed on my head.

I had intended to attend my niece's first birthday party, and now those visions of pink balloons felt like a distant dream. And let’s not forget about my date, which was as rare as encountering a genuine unicorn. My dedication to my career as a luxury home interior designer often leaves little room for a social life, particularly when it comes to dating. To miss out on a hot date is infuriating, and "miffed" doesn’t even begin to capture my feelings.

Feeling foolish for crossing the street in an attempt to evade my imagined pursuer, I return to the original sidewalk. But the same click-clack of heels returns, sending chills up my spine. Acting on instinct, I whirl around to confront whoever is behind me, nearly losing my balance.

Anger replaces fear, mingling with the scents of nearby restaurants, car exhaust, and alleyway refuse. I freeze, unable to comprehend that there is no one behind me. Confusion grips me as my intuition screams warnings from deep within. Just then, a man dressed entirely in black steps out from behind a lamppost, causing my heart to race anew.

"Miss, I apologize for startling you," he says, his voice warm and inviting.

Under the flickering streetlight, I can see his attractive features. He takes a step forward, but noticing my apprehension, he remains still. Extending his hand, he says, "You dropped this back at the conference hall," revealing a kind smile.

In his palm lies my business card wallet, which I could have sworn I had tucked away securely. My hand instinctively goes to the empty pocket of my trench coat. Upon closer inspection, I see that his all-black attire resembles that of the catering staff from the gala. Suddenly, I recall taking a mini quiche from his tray earlier, and my nerves begin to ease.

"I’m not sure how I could have dropped that. You have no idea how lost I'd be without it. Thank you so much," I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper.

As I reach for the wallet, I chuckle lightly. His response is a casual smirk, brightening my mood even further.

"I thought I was being followed," I admit. "I’m sorry for being so jumpy."

"It’s my fault; I should have called out. I never intended to scare you." He looks down, almost sheepishly.

He seems genuinely regretful for causing me distress. With a dimpled grin, he offers to walk me to my hotel. After a brief pause, I agree, sensing no threat from him.

The walk to my hotel flies by, filled with light conversation. I feel almost entranced, as if my body has turned to liquid from the surge of adrenaline coursing through me.

Upon reaching my hotel, a small voice in my head scolds me for allowing him to escort me. I silence it, reminding myself that he seems harmless.

"This is where I part ways. Thank you again for returning my wallet and for walking me back," I say.

"Would you care to continue our conversation over a drink?" he asks shyly.

"As much as I’d love to, I'm exhausted and have an early flight," I reply. "Let’s do a raincheck for my next visit?"

Suddenly, his demeanor shifts, an imperceptible hardness taking over. His eyes darken as he pulls something shiny from his pocket. At first, I assume it’s his phone, but as he stammers about hoping for a different outcome, I realize too late that he’s holding a taser.

Everything fades to black, and my last thought is, "Fucking Jan, I hope Mexico was worth it."

This episode of "Menace Unseen" delves into unexpected encounters and the hidden dangers lurking in everyday situations.

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