The Disappearance of Arthur Lanceil

The report was broadcast everywhere it could be: radio and TV stations, morning talk shows, newspapers, billboards, and pop-up ads on social media.

'Arthur Lanceil has disappeared. He was reported missing yesterday at 11 p.m. outside the Grand National Park near Newhaven. Please come forth and call your local authorities with any information. If possible, and if your safety is not at risk, please kill Arthur Lanceil. Thank you, UN spokesperson Myreim Higal.'

Three weeks before the notice went out to the world, Arthur was at his office job. He'd stopped mulling around the water cooler and finally slapped his assessment onto his manager's desk.

'Sorry, needed to revise it quickly.' Arthur smiled, watching Steven work his way through the papers.

'You don't have to add every piece of feedback, Arthur. You're too kind.' Steven kept looking at the papers and moved them onto the pile next to him.

'Alex had some good points. What can I say?' Arthur leaned against the wall of Steven's cubicle, bending the drywall slightly.

'Stop it.' Steven typed away at his computer.

'Aren't you going to read it?'

Steven looked over his glasses at Arthur. 'I trust you.' He turned back to the computer and drowned out Arthur's voice with the choir of keys.

'You're heading to lunch?'

Steven ignored him.

Arthur made his way back to his cubicle, carefully passing by his co-workers so as not to interrupt them. When he sat down, his chair wheezed under his weight and came to a gentle stop. He stretched out, resting his arms on the thin drywall divider behind him.

Watching the clock on his desk, he felt that it wasn't going quickly enough. He waited until it was two thirty, then left for lunch.

He went around the corner to the bodega to grab a chopped cheese sandwich and a soda. As he left the shop, he stuffed the change from his twenty into the tip jar. The teenager working behind the grill threw his arms into the air and shouted happily.

'Maybe baby's going to college. God bless, man!' He went back to scraping melted cheese onto a bagel for another customer.

Arthur went to the park across the street and found a bench. He slowly unwrapped his sandwich, marvelling at the swirling strings of meat and fat. He took a bite. The taste of grease and salt coated his tongue. He paused before groaning audibly.

'Excuse me.'

A quiet voice came from behind him.

Arthur turned toward it, wiping the mess from his face as he did.

'Sorry. That must have sounded strange.'

A woman in a nice dress, holding a small clutch bag under one arm, stared at him blankly.

Arthur stood up. He carefully reached out his hand and smiled.

'Hi, I'm Arthur Lanceil. Are you okay?' he asked.

'I know.'

She spoke in a blank tone.

'Have we met before?' he asked, confused.

The woman raised her other hand. She was holding something tightly.

He didn't feel it at first. But when he looked down at her hand, he saw the steak knife buried in his thigh. He tried to step backwards, but the blade caught on his clothes and flesh. Then the woman ripped the knife out and raised it to the sky.

'Mary! Oh my God!'

A group of women screamed.

Over his attacker's shoulder, he saw a group of women trying to cross the street, screaming and panicking. Cars swerved out of the way and slammed on their brakes.

She brought the knife down, slashing his forearm. The pain from the gash snapped him back to the woman attacking him. He tried to get away and stumbled backwards, falling as the strength in his injured leg gave out. The force of the fall shook his spine and he sprawled out in front of her.

The woman brought the knife down again.

Arthur covered his face and waited for the blade to cut him.

But nothing happened.

He pulled his arm away from his face. A crowd had stepped in between him and the woman and forced her to the ground. The knife lay on the pavement in front of him. It was a simple engraved steak knife, covered in bits of sauce and his own blood.

In the police station, two officers spoke to him whilst Steven waited outside.

'So, you've never met this woman before?' The younger officer, with a stern look on his face, passed him a photo of the woman.

It was a mugshot. Her makeup had been smudged when they pulled her to the ground, giving her two sunken eyes. But it was still her, staring out at him from the picture. The same blank expression she had worn when she attacked him.

'I don't know her, I swear. I was there having lunch and then she attacked me.' He passed the picture back to the officer.

'I'm struggling to believe you, as you can imagine.' The older officer uncrossed his arms like a disappointed teacher.

'We took statements,' he continued. 'From the group of women she was with.' The older man gently opened a notebook and placed his finger on the page, sliding it across as he read.

'We were just sitting there having brunch. We all hadn't seen each other since Mary's wedding last fall. She was telling us about the house she had bought, and then she looked out of the window. Mary grabbed the knife she was using and crossed the street and attacked some guy. Meaning you.'

He closed the book and looked at him.

'I don't know her. I'm sorry, but this is all so much. I just don't know.' Arthur stared at his feet.

Steven drove Arthur home to his apartment. For a while they didn't speak, only the squeaking of the leather seats between them. Blood had seeped through the bandage on Arthur's arm.

I'll need to change that when I get inside, he thought.

He went through the bag of supplies the nurses had given him at the hospital.

'You're not going to change it in here, are you?' Steven kept his eyes on the road.

Arthur shook his head.

Steven pulled the car over and stopped it, turning to Arthur.

'What are you doing?' Arthur said.

'I don't know, Arthur. A woman doesn't just try to kill a complete stranger.'

'Steven, you know me. I promise you I didn't know that woman. She just attacked me.' Arthur lifted his hands, pleading with him.

Steven looked at the blood, the bandage, and the disbelief on the face of his friend. Then he started the car again.

When they reached his home, Steven got out first and opened the car door for him.

'Arthur. Take some time off, okay? We can manage without you. Just get better.'

Steven walked away and got back into his car, leaving Arthur to fumble with his keys and try to get some sleep.

When he closed his eyes, her face emerged from the dark void and watched him with the same blank expression. But then, from the same black space, a phantom slithered forth. It was a silhouette of grey vapour hanging on the woman's shoulder.

Then suddenly the figure divided and there were two of them hovering next to her. Then another. With a sudden turn of his head, the void around him was crammed with figures, all fighting for a chance to rip and tear at him.

When he woke the next morning, he didn't feel safe in his apartment. He changed his bandages, scrubbed the wounds with the wipes the hospital had given him, and got ready for work.

Steven found him at his cubicle halfway through the day and gave him the riot act about coming in after being told to stay home.

'You need to rest, and you're making people nervous.'

'I'm not doing anyone any harm, Steven. I'm working.' Arthur smiled.

'I have the report you wanted.'

Alex stepped in and held up a memory stick.

'Thanks, Alex. You can put it on my—'

Arthur stopped himself.

Alex had frozen. She seemed confused, her face twitching as she fought back tears.

Steven put his hand on her shoulder.

'Alex, what's wrong?'

She struck Steven's arm away and lunged at Arthur.

She raked her nails across Arthur's face. He tried pushing her off, but she gripped his hair and started pummelling his stomach.

'Jesus Christ!'

Steven wrapped his arms around her, yanking her off. She screamed and started kicking outwards, hitting Arthur in the stomach and chest.

'Help!'

Steven dragged her out into the hallway.

In the chaos, Alex had grabbed the wall of the square cubicle and brought it crashing around Arthur.

The whole office was staring at him as he sat there, embarrassed.

Someone he didn't see threw a mug at him. It missed and smashed onto the floor.

Arthur stood up. Blood from his scratches dripped onto the floor and into his eye. Through the blur of his vision, he saw the others twisting and twitching like Alex. When their movements stopped, they all stared at him blankly.

Everyone started throwing things at him, cups, keyboards, even computers. When they ran out of things to throw, people started dashing towards him.

Arthur froze.

'Arthur!'

Steven pushed him forward.

In the elevator, Arthur crouched in the corner as Steven blocked the entrance. The doors closed, but not quickly enough to stop the crowd from jamming their fingers into the seam. Their fingers coiled and writhed like snakes trying to bite him.

'Wake up. Please, wake up.'

Steven whispered to himself as he slid to the floor beside Arthur.

Arthur stood up and slammed the button, causing the elevator to move downwards. The fingers pulled themselves away before they were crushed.

'Steven, what the fuck is happening to me?' Arthur began to breathe heavily.

Steven was shaking on the floor.

'This can't be happening,' Steven said, weeping.

'Steven, where are your car keys? Steven!'

'In the parking garage. But I left the keys upstairs in my desk.' He looked up at Arthur. 'This is really happening to you, isn't it?'

Arthur could only nod as they rode the elevator the rest of the way down.

In the garage they ran to Steven's car. One of them kept watch for anyone chasing after them. The few people down there seemed normal, going about their day and trying to ignore the two men, stressed and sweating, breaking into their own car.

They drove out quickly, not stopping for anyone. The tyres screeched through the traffic.

'Steven, calm down.'

Steven wouldn't listen. He just pointed around them.

Arthur looked through the window and saw it.

Everyone on the streets and sidewalks was aimlessly staring at them as they drove by.

'We need to get out of here, Arthur.'

The car was crossing the bridge out of the city when everyone started following them. In the rear-view mirror, Steven and Arthur watched the mass of people stuff themselves into the entrance, roaring as one.

'Come back, Arthur! Come back! You need to die!'

Steven put his foot down, making the car hurtle along the empty road.

They sank into their seats and kept going, not stopping at the barriers and smashing through them to finally leave the city.

'Where are we going, Steven?'

'Away. We're going away from here.'

The city eventually disappeared behind them, and then so did the sun.

It was close to midnight when they finally pulled over and took a break.

Steven was out of the car smoking a cigarette when Arthur made the mistake of turning on the radio.

Every station he frantically switched to played the same message.

'Arthur Lanceil has escaped the city limits. He is accompanied by Steven Murphy in a red Toyota Prius. Please come forward with any information or proof of death.'

It played on a loop, on every channel, in every language Arthur knew of.

He got out of the car and slammed the door shut.

'Steven, it's everywhere. People, no matter where we go, they want to kill me.'

Steven had his back to him and was twitching slightly.

'Steven?'

He turned to face Arthur.

He was twitching and convulsing, stopping himself from stepping forward.

'Steven?'

'You... have... to go, Arthur.'

He spoke through clenched teeth. Blood pooled in his mouth from the strain.

'Why? What's happening?'

'It's a thought I can't shake.'

Steven pulled himself backwards before looking at Arthur with that blank stare.

'You should be dead.'

Steven fell to the ground.

Arthur started to run.

He made a break for the dark woods and turned back to see if Steven was following him.

He was standing now, pulling a tyre iron from the boot of his car.

Arthur stopped and watched his friend, hoping he would come back.

Let's get out of here.

But then Steven started running after him, gripping the tyre iron tightly.

When the police found Steven, he'd worn the soles of his shoes smooth. His clothes were torn and muddy.

'Did you get him?' the officer asked.

Steven shook his head, and the officer looked disappointed.

Arthur Lanceil has been missing for six months now, and the search continues.