It started out as something simple, something harmless. One afternoon, I had packed an extra lunch. When my coworker Andrei caught the scent, he leaned over with a grin and said, “That smells amazing. Could you make me one sometime?”
I laughed and agreed—so long as he returned the container clean. The next day, he handed it back with a smile. But when I opened it later, my stomach dropped. Inside wasn’t just an empty box. There was a note.
Scrawled in uneven, blocky handwriting on a scrap of paper towel were the words:
Get away from him before it’s too late.
At first, I thought it was a prank. Maybe one of my coworkers was trying to spook me. But the shaky letters and the urgency of the message made my skin crawl. I glanced across the office. Andrei sat typing as if nothing was wrong.
That night, I showed the note to my roommate, Mara. She frowned. “Are you sure it wasn’t him? Maybe some strange joke?”
I shook my head. “Why would he write a warning about himself?”
Mara leaned back. “Unless someone else slipped it in.”
The thought chilled me even more.
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