Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Writing Prompt

Day 3
“Mystery Cookie”
One Day you come into work and find a cookie mysteriously placed on your desk. Grateful
to whoever left this anonymous cookie, you eat it. The next morning you come in and find
another cookie. This continues for months until one Day a different object is left—and this
time there’s a note.
I don't think this is what they intended for this prompt.. but my mind didn't care. - Jessi

Every day without fail the cookie would be there sitting on a plain white napkin on Stephan's desk and everyday he would always try to find the person who'd left it, but to his dismay, whoever had been in his office was always long gone by the time he got there. This tradition continued for a few months and foolishly each day he'd eat the mysterious cookie. In his mind, he was sure that he had a secret admirer, after all, who else would take the time to leave a different cookie for each day of the week?

On Mondays there would be an oatmeal cookie on his desk.
Tuesdays a snickerdoodle.
Wednesdays Stephan would find a peanut butter cookie.
Thursdays a sugar cookie.
Fridays a chocolate chip cookie would be on the napkin.
Stephan began looking forward to his mystery cookies and the possibility that each day held that perhaps he would finally find out who had left them. He never once considered the possibility that the cookies could be dangerous. So when he began to feel strange, he inwardly ignored the possibility of the cookies being the things that made him as though his body were constantly tingling. At first it started out with his hands falling asleep while he was sitting at his desk, typing. From there it escalated and his entire arm would feel as though it had pins and needles buzzing around inside of it.
The longer the cookies showed up on his desk each morning, the worse it would get and by the third month, the buzzing sensation in his limbs had extended from one arm, to both arms and then down to his legs.
Stephan had always been a fairly healthy person, so the day his heart had started to race and he began to sweat profusely in a perfectly air conditioned office, he began to worry about what may be happening to him. His coworkers had certainly noticed the changes in Stephan as well. They began steering clear of him and skirting him in the hallways when he would suddenly dissolve into tears over seemingly nothing. He no longer worried about what was happening to himself because he was trying to get the crawling insects out from underneath his skin. He'd scratch at his arms, legs and face until they were raw and bleeding. His handsome features turned scarred and mangled from his constant scratching and itching. Another month passed and he began to forget things. He forgot the names of his coworkers, and forgot how to type his reports. He didn't remember what his job was, or who his boss was or why he even showed up at work every day when all that seemed to happen everyday was him constantly getting scolded for not doing his job properly. His hair turned thin and his teeth began chipping, which added to his disheveled and strange appearance.
However, to the rest of the people at the company it simply looked as though Stephan had picked up an unfortunate drug addiction and was descending into a hole that would be hard for anyone to climb out of. No one remembered the strange cookies he'd mentioned appearing on his desk before he began to seemingly lose his mind. The same cookies that still showed up on his desk every day. The ones he still ate despite everything else. Exactly six months had passed since the cookies first started to appear on Stephan's desk when he just finally stopped showing up for work. That day there was a new surprise on his desk. A little vial full of silver liquid plugged with a cork stopper and a note that read “I win.” in big bold letters that had all been cut out from various magazine articles and pasted to a piece of red printer paper.


Stephan was found dead in his apartment later that day. When the autopsy report returned his death was ruled as Mercury poisoning and investigated as murder, though aside from the strange note and the vial of mercury that had been found on his desk the day he hadn't showed up at work, there was no further evidence and the case went cold. It was a week later that the cookies began showing up on Emily's desk. She thought that a secret admirer must have left the cookie for her. So she ate it. 

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