Mr CEOs Freaky Obsession

Laura

The diner was quiet. Too quiet.

The only light came from the dim glow of the kitchen gas, flickering like it could go out at any moment. The usual buzz of life was gone, the air thick with an unnatural stillness.

I sighed and turned the gas off.

"Hey, Peter. I'm clocking out now," I called over my shoulder, untying my apron.

No response.

I frowned. He had just walked into the pantry a few seconds ago.

"Peter?" I called again, but the silence stretched.

A prickle of unease crawled down my spine as I walked toward the pantry. Pushing the door open, I stepped inside, my breath catching in my throat as my heart slammed against my ribs.

I froze.

Peter was sprawled on the floor, lifeless eyes staring straight ahead, blood pooling around him.

For a moment, I couldn't breathe.

My limbs felt heavy, my mind blank but then, the dam broke.

"Peter!"

I dropped to my knees, my hands trembling as I reached out to his face. His skin was pale, unmoving. The thick scent of iron filled my nostrils, and I whimpered, lowering my head to his chest, straining to hear something, anything.

Nothing.

"No," I whispered, stumbling back, my entire body shaking.

Tears blurred my vision as I scrambled for my phone, fingers fumbling to dial for help but as I raised the device to my ear, something odd struck me.

The smell.

I sniffled, lowering my phone, and bringing my hand closer to my nose, it didn't smell like blood.

It smelled like Ketchup.

What the hell?

My heart still hammering, I wiped my tears and rushed back to the pantry, my legs wobbly.

Peter was... on his feet.

I stopped dead in my tracks, staring at him like he had just risen from the grave.

"Hey, Laura," he greeted casually, as if he hadn't just been lying in a puddle of fake blood.

My eyes swept over him, from head to toe, my body still in fight-or-flight mode.

"What... the fuck?"

He stood there, unmoving, until a grin split his face. Then he burst out laughing-a loud, hysterical laugh that sent a fresh wave of shock through me.

"What the hell just happened?" I demanded, my voice sharp with anger and confusion. "What kind of sick joke is this?"

Peter took a step toward me, still chuckling, but I stepped back, putting space between us.

"You should've seen your face," he wheezed, barely able to get the words out.

I shook my head, trying to process the last sixty seconds. "You were dead just now, Peter! How the hell are you standing?"

He smirked. "It was barbecue sauce. Mixed with ketchup."

I blinked. "What?"

"The blood. It wasn't real."

I stared at him, my jaw tightening. "You faked your death?"

He shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. "I was bored. No customers, no action. Thought I'd liven things up."

Except you played dead, you absolute lunatic.

"And you thought that would be fun?" I snapped, my hands clenching at my sides.

"Laura, come on. Look at me. I'm dying from laughter." He let out another bark of laughter, doubling over.

My patience snapped.

"You're an asshole, Peter. A lunatic. This is why no one wants to talk to you, hang out with you, or even work the late-night shift with you. Because you're a weirdo!" The words spilled out before I could stop them.

His laughter stopped instantly.

The amusement drained from his face as he stared at the floor. Without a word, he turned away and grabbed a mop, silently cleaning up his mess.