Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Here's Johnny!

When I woke, everything was still.

I glanced around the room, my eyes picking out everything in the muted darkness. My computer lit up suddenly, a picture enlarging to show the surveillance camera. A tiny light flashed and I grudgingly got up from my cot and nearly fell into the springy swivel chair. As I looked on to the surveillance feed, my face lit up.

Jonathan Crane stepped through the side door, holding a briefcase. I watched as he counted the boxes, stopping outside the 33rd. He looked around the warehouse as if someone were to see his next action and think it childish. He knocked on the 33rd box and stepped back, glancing around once again to see if he could find anyone.

I stood from my slouched perch on my desk chair and headed over to the ladder to the surface. I pushed the top off dramatically with a burst of shadow and leant against the edge of the faux crate.

"Vell, don't just stand zere," My voice echoed, smiling at Jon's overly perplexed face, and I disappeared down the ladder.

I waited a few seconds, then after hearing Jon clambering on top of the crates, I went to the kitchenette and proceeded to make coffee. He made it down the ladder, landing hard. I flicked my wrist and the top lifted back on the entrance crate.

I allowed Jon to observe my current living conditions before speaking. "Coffee?"

"No, thank you. Did you just wake up?" He inquired, his eyes flitting to me for a split second before returning to the small room.

"Ja," I said, putting back the second cup and fixing my coffee with cream and sugar. "Vhy? Vhat time iz it?"

"It's..." Jon flicked his arm out to see his watch from under his shirt cuff. "Nearly six."

"I guess I slept pretty vell, sen." I chided, stirring my coffee slowly.

"We were all exhausted as well, though, apparently, not as exhausted as you seem to have been." Jon stopped his scrutinizing of my place and rested his gaze on me midway through his sentence.

I was about to take a sip of my coffee but put it back down on the counter, my brow furrowing. "You seem...discontented. Vat seems to be se matter?"

"Nothing," Jonathan looked away from my face, gazing at my choice in pajamas.

"Richtig, Doktor Crane." I smirked, picking up my coffee mug. "Richtig."

He cleared his throat, setting his briefcase on my small kitchen table. "I do apologize for not coming sooner," he pulled out one of the two chairs and sat down. "I was...preoccupied."

"Vis vat?" I inquired, hopping up onto the counter.

He laughed shortly, "Oh, nothing of import."

A less than settling silence enveloped us. My coffee left to steam next to me as my eyes roamed over Jonathan. It had been awhile since I had last seen him. Two weeks, actually. I don't want to seem any more odd than I feel like I've come off as, but I have been counting the days. I guess that's what I get for losing my only friend to my lifestyle.

"Your lodgings are quite interesting, I have to say." Jonathan stated, jouncing me from my thoughts.

I smiled at his comment. "I agree. I made all this myself," I looked around the small studio apartment. "well that's not entirely true...but that doesn't matter anymore. They're no longer in my life." 

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."

"As am I."

Silence. But this time, it was suspended from the edge of the cliff of comfortableness, threatening to fall to the bottom of the canyon of awkwardness.

"Would you like to see my mask?" Jonathan inquired, his ghostly smile appearing again.

*Revised 20 Jan 2016*