In a dimly lit room, a large table sat between two chairs. One of the chairs was occupied by a man with a thick mustache, dressed in a retro-style suit. He was flipping through some documents, occasionally twirling his long mustache between his fingers.
On the other side of the table, a young girl, 21 years old, sat nervously. Her name was Grace, and she anxiously watched the man as he reviewed her documents.
"Stay calm, Grace. You've got this," she thought, trying to steady her nerves in front of the man she assumed was the "manager" of this place.
This shady company was supposedly a car parts manufacturer, but the manager had mentioned that their sales had dropped drastically due to competitors offering cheaper prices with better quality. As a result, the company was on the brink of bankruptcy, with many employees left unpaid and a large number laid off. Despite this bleak explanation, the manager suddenly stopped talking about the company's troubles and instead mentioned that they needed a maid.
"Your name is Grace, right?" the manager asked, still twirling his mustache.
"Eekkh!?" Grace gasped, startled, her mind still haunted by the fear of yet another rejection.
"Is everything alright? Are you okay?" the manager asked, a bit puzzled by her reaction.
"Ah, yes, sorry. Yes, I'm Grace," she replied, trying to correct her nervous posture.
The manager, still fiddling with his mustache, finally stopped reading the documents and placed them on the table. He looked at Grace and said, "Congratulations, Grace. You're hired."
"Eh!? Really? Thank you so much, sir! Thank you!" Grace exclaimed, overjoyed and almost in tears.
"You can start working right now," the manager said, resuming his habit of twirling his mustache.
"Eh, really, sir? Alright, I'm ready to start right away!" Grace responded enthusiastically.
*****
After changing into her uniform, Grace immediately began working, cleaning a floor that looked incredibly dirty. She worked diligently, determined to repay her mother for the encouragement and the money she provided for Grace to find work in the city.
"It's definitely dirty, but it's nothing I can't handle on my own," she thought as she swept through the dimly lit corridor, making it look a bit cleaner with each pass.
Even though a sense of unease started to creep in, Grace kept working, focusing on getting the remaining dirt out of the room.
But her anxiety continued to grow until, finally...
"Grace, could you come with me?" a voice called from behind her.
"Eh!?!" Grace jumped, startled for the second time.
She turned around and saw the manager standing right behind her, still twirling his mustache.
"Ah, yes, of course, sir," Grace replied hesitantly, her eyes fixated on the long mustache the manager kept playing with.
Grace followed the manager into a dark basement, where the dim lighting made the atmosphere even more unsettling.
"Why are we here, sir? Do I need to clean—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Grace suddenly felt her body go weak and collapse to the floor, electrocuted by a device the manager was holding. Her body convulsed as the world around her began to blur. Her eyes widened, trying to grasp what had just happened, but darkness quickly took over.
*****
As Grace slowly regained consciousness, her gaze fixed on the ceiling above. Her arms and legs felt heavy and difficult to move, as if they were bound by some invisible force. Though she was fully awake, her vision remained blurry, like someone waking from a nightmare. She realized her body was tightly strapped to a wooden structure that resembled a bed.
Grace tried to move, but her limbs were firmly restrained. The only part of her body she could move was her head, which thankfully wasn't bound. However, her mouth was sealed shut with tape, leaving her unable to speak, only letting out muffled cries.
"Hmph!? Hmph?!..." her panic-filled voice was barely audible beneath the tape.
Around her, candles flickered, casting an eerie glow on a red magic circle drawn on the floor. The metallic scent in the air made her realize with horror that the circle was made of blood.
"What is this!? Why am I tied up like this..." she thought, her fear escalating with every passing second.
Her terror peaked when she saw someone she recognized standing in front of her, now clad in a menacing red robe. It was the manager, the man who was always twirling his long mustache.
"Awake already, Grace?" he sneered.
"Hmmph!!! Hmmpphh!!" Grace tried to scream, but the tape muffled her voice.
"Are you that naive? Your mouth is taped shut. How do you expect me to understand anything you're saying?" the manager mocked, a cold smile spreading across his face. "But you don't need to speak, Grace. Just listen."
He stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with a sinister intent. "You know, Grace, there was a reason you were hired here. Not to work as a maid, but for something much grander... and much darker."
Grace's heart raced, terror flooding her veins. The manager's voice grew lower, more menacing with each word.
"You are part of a ritual, Grace. An ancient one that will awaken powers long buried. And you... are the key to it all."
The manager stepped back, raising his arms as the candlelight dimmed, while the red magic circle on the floor began to glow brighter, its color intensifying. Grace felt a bone-chilling cold spread through the room, as if the darkness was closing in on her.
The manager then pulled out a thick, ancient book from the pocket of his robe—its pages yellowed with age. As he opened the book, an eerie wind seemed to materialize out of nowhere, flipping the pages until they settled on one.
"Hahaha, finally! All my suffering will end! Wealth, power, influence! It will all be mine!" he shouted, his voice dripping with greed and madness.
With wild eyes, he looked at Grace, then grabbed a bottle filled with goat's blood from a nearby table. He drank it quickly, the crimson liquid spilling from the corners of his mouth as he began chanting ominous incantations in a language that sounded ancient and terrifying.
The blood-drawn magic circle on the floor flared up, emitting a blinding light. A sinister, cold aura began to seep from the floor, filling the air with a heavy, threatening presence.
"Hmphh!!! Hmmphhh!!!" Grace struggled with all her might, her body thrashing in a desperate attempt to free herself from the bindings.
The room's temperature plummeted, a thick, icy fog filling the space, obscuring her already panicked vision.
"Mom... Please help me," she thought, despair gripping her heart.
Amid the chaos, a sudden loud crash echoed through the room. The wooden door at the far end of the chamber was blasted open with immense force, shattering off its hinges and slamming to the ground. The manager jerked around, his eyes widening in shock as he stared at the now-open doorway.
The incantation he was chanting faltered as he turned to face the intruder. Through the fog and darkness, a figure stood in the doorway. The silhouette was imposing, cutting through the eerie light of the magic circle.
With tears brimming in her eyes, Grace looked at the figure who had just stormed into the room, a sliver of hope igniting within her chest. The figure stepped forward, radiating a powerful aura that cut through the thick fog and cold that filled the room. The manager, realizing the presence of this intruder, immediately began to cast another spell, desperation flickering in his eyes.
"Ugh, Damn Sheriff. You'll regret this!" he snarled, extending his hand as a fiery circle of runes appeared, summoning orbs of fire that shot toward the intruder.
But the Sheriff moved with lightning speed, dodging the flames with ease as they closed the distance between them. In one swift motion, the Sheriff pulled out a card from their pocket, which instantly transformed into a sleek, silver revolver.
"Ignite," the Sheriff murmured, and the revolver glowed with a bright, magical light as a shimmering circle of runes appeared around the barrel. With a steady hand, the Sheriff squeezed the trigger.
The revolver roared to life, spitting out bullets infused with magic that tore through the air, leaving trails of light in their wake. The manager barely had time to react as the bullets struck his fiery defenses, shattering them with explosive force. The sheer power of the shots sent shockwaves through the room, making the flames flicker and the walls tremble.
Grace watched in awe as the Sheriff's precise, relentless attacks pushed the manager back, his spells faltering under the onslaught. The once cocky expression on the manager's face turned to one of panic as he realized he was outmatched.
"You... you can't stop this!" he screamed, his voice cracking as he tried to summon more magic, but it was too late. The Sheriff was upon him, the revolver aimed directly at his head.
With one final, resolute pull of the trigger, the Sheriff fired a shot that blazed with brilliant light, striking the manager dead center. The impact sent him crashing to the ground, the sinister glow in his eyes fading as he let out one last, anguished breath.
The room fell silent, save for the soft, steady breathing of the Sheriff. The dark magic that had once filled the space slowly dissipated, leaving only the faint glow of the candles and the lingering scent of blood.
Grace watched the scene unfold, a mixture of fear and awe swirling within her. She had been moments away from despair, but now, in the wake of the battle, she felt a strange, overwhelming sense of relief. Someone had come to rescue her.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she gazed at the Sheriff, who stood tall amidst the fading remnants of the dark magic. The figure exuded an aura of quiet strength and unwavering resolve, the revolver still smoking in his hand. The sight of her savior, bathed in the soft glow of the remaining candles, was almost surreal.
Tears welled up in Grace's eyes, not from fear or pain, but from the sheer weight of what had just happened. She had been saved—rescued from the clutches of something truly terrifying.