With your eyebrows drawn together and a grim look on your face you stood next to the table that was set up with the only landline that still existed in the entire house.

There was also an emergency landline installed in your fathers office but he had always preached that it was for nothing but emergencies. And since no one was dying yet you deemed it unnecessary to use.

A ringing sound filled your ears as you stood there, leaned against the wall and waited for someone to pick up on the other side.

Your eyes followed the pointers on the clock. Second after second.

An entire minute passed.

No one picked up.

With a sigh, you gave up and put down the phone to try calling on your cellphone once again.

But as expected, no one picked up.

Now a little worry started to grow in the pit of your stomach.

It wasn't like aunt May not to respond. She liked to send texts. And Felix had always been communicative when it came to travelling from home and back.

Somehow he seemed to be afraid to strand somewhere with no one but himself. Like he was afraid to get lost.

It struck you as odd that neither of them had send anything yet.

You threw a glance over your shoulder into the corridor that led towards the kitchen.

Noises sounded. It was like metal hitting metal. Pots and pans, probably.

"Michael?", you had to frown.

If you remembered correctly you had told him to get some rest. Since he wasn't all that young anymore and you were only one person you didn't need him to do all his chores right away.

But as stubborn as he was he had probably ignored it and was still working.

With a sigh you gave up on trying to reach anyone and walked towards the kitchen.

There were no lights on. A bit odd considering that Michael hated to walk in the dark. His eyes struggled a little with it.

"Michael?", you asked into the dark as you stopped before a corner.

No one answered.

The noise stopped abruptly.

A cold shiver crawled down your spine. The hairs in the back of your neck stood up straight.

Something wasn't right.

Your eyes wandered over the walls, the floor, all the way to the door behind which the kitchen lay.

It was opened a crack wide. Soft light fell through it into the dark corridor.

"Michael?", you asked once again.

But this time you took a step back.

It was cold. Somewhere the wind howled.

Had he left a window open?

Out of reflex, your hand slid into your pocket to pull out your phone.

But who were you supposed to call?

911?

What would you tell them?

That you were afraid but didn't know of what?

No, it would have made you seem insane. Like a madman. Someone who had lost their mind and reality.

As you looked at the screen you noticed a card that was stuck to it.

Graves' business card.

You hesitated.

What would you tell him?

You didn't want Phillip to think you were crazy. And telling him you felt unsafe would have been useless as well.

He was your employee. Not your boyfriend. In fact the two of you didn't have any kind of solid relationship yet. Not even a professional partnership.

If you'd call him out of fear, surely he wouldn't jump into his car and drive all the way out to you.

But there was no one else to call.

You checked your call history.

May hadn't replied to your calls. And Felix seemed to be vanished to thin air as well.

No one else was left.

So you picked up the business card and dialled Phillip's number.

A beeping sound greeted you. With bated breath you stared at the kitchen door while pressing the phone to your ear, waiting for someone to pick up.

The beating of your heart fastened. You could feel how blood rushed through your veins.

All of a sudden a loud noise tore the tense silence apart. It was so shrill that you couldn't help but flinch.

Your eyes were glued to the door.

You dared to take a step towards it. It was entirely stupid to walk towards possible danger but you needed to make sure that this wasn't just one of the many weird events that seemed to become a daily occurrence.

Carefully, you out a hand on the surface of the door and gave it a gentle push.

The crack widened and finally you were able to throw a glance into the room.

Pots and pans were scattered all across the floor. Everything was a mess inside the kitchen. Flour covered the surface of the table while a sack of onions was torn apart, all the vegetables rolling across the floor.

Frowning, you popped your head through the door.

"Michael?", you asked so softly that it was barely a whisper.

"Go away.", a voice sounded so suddenly that it made you scream.

Frightened, you stumbled back and hit your head on the door. With a painful hiss you fell to the floor, dropping your phone.

At the impact on the stone tiles the screen cracked.

"Shit!", you cursed and immediately picked it up to examine the damages. "Michael are you insane?!"

With your eyebrows drawn together you threw a glance up at the old man.

A sorry look as on his face. He was as much of a mess as the kitchen.

"I didn't expect to see you here.", he said with a tired smile and looked around. "I'll fix this in a minute... I- god, I forgot something..."

He wanted to walk off, but stopped mid way, looked around and then at you again. He seemed lost. As if he had forgotten where to go while going there.

"I'm sorry, Charlie.", he said. "I'm not myself today."

Struck by a feeling of emptiness, you stared at him.

"Michael I'm not...", you were unable to end the sentence.

"Graves.", a disfigured voice suddenly sounded from the speakers of your phone.

The sound quality was awful, strained and strangely deep. Nir just the screen had taken damage but in that moment that was your smallest problem.

"Phillip, it's me. (Y/N).", your gaze was still fixed on Michael. "Listen, it wasn't that urgent. Let me call you back in a bit."

"Who? I can't...", he groaned. Listen, the sound quality is terrible. Is something up? Suga?"

You hung up on him.