Maggie - Timmy the Vet
When my alarm blared in the morning, I let out a groan while blindly reaching for my phone on the ground to shut it the hell off. My body was sore from carrying my boxes of teaching materials into my room all afternoon and I was in desperate need for coffee. I propped up on my elbows and glumly eyed the empty coffee maker on the counter.
I’d have to settle for the complimentary coffee in the apartment’s lobby this morning.
I quickly gathered my hair in a ponytail, then threw on some leggings and a flowy, white, button-down shirt that would be zoom appropriate. Before heading out the door, I grabbed my laptop bag and slipped on my flats.
When moving in, I spotted a couple designated work spaces on the first floor, and I figured they’d be perfect for a work-from-home day. After going through zoom-school back in 2020 and 2021, I learned I was not good at working from my main living space– I needed to keep those two areas separate in my mind, or else it’d lead to a mental breakdown of feeling like all I did was work.
The large lobby was completely empty when I walked in. I successfully located the coffee and poured myself a large cup. I typically preferred iced coffee, but beggars couldn't be choosers.
Blowing on my coffee a bit, I wandered down the hallway to the office spaces. There were three little rooms that had windows on all four sides, almost like they were little fishbowls, but the first room’s shades were drawn, leaving only cracks. It looked like there was someone in there, so I proceeded to the middle room.
Once inside, I plugged in my laptop, booted it up, and slid on my bluelight glasses.
Kelly was right yesterday when she claimed we’d be going over school policies and then completing the health modules at our own pace.
Kelly started a group chat between the three of us and we were having side conversations all morning as the speaker– the VP of the elementary school– droned on and on about things we already knew. The speech was most likely for the first-year teachers, not us transfers.
After two hours, we were finally given a break. I knew I needed to use the time to locate some food because the coffee on an empty stomach was making me all jittery.
But when I tore off my noise-canceling headphones, I paused.
My eyes snapped up to the window ahead of me.
It sounded like… Like someone was just thrown against the wall.
I stood slowly and creeped forward to investigate. I was probably wrong. Maybe the person in there just dropped something.
But then someone growled out a sentence I couldn't completely make out… That voice, though… It sounded lethal.
I paused a heartbeat, waiting to hear more. I knew I should’ve just left and gotten food, but curiosity gnawed at me. I slowly put my ear against the wall to hear more.
I wasn't prepared for the next loud bang. I jumped back and hit the table against my hip, almost spilling over the rest of my coffee. My hand shot out to steady the mug.
What the hell was going on in there?
I stayed completely still, hoping the people in the other room didn’t hear me.
My curiosity was now dead. I just wanted to get the hell out of there. And no way would I be coming back to finish my zooms here after lunch. .
When I finally breathed again, I shakily gathered up my stuff and dumped it haphazardly in my bag. My anxiety was ratcheting up by the second. All I knew was that I did not want to run into whoever was in that room…
Before leaving, I stole one last glance at the shared, shaded window between the two offices. My whole body stiffened. The cracks in the blinds were smeared red.
Blood. It was unmistakable.
My heart rate skyrocketed. I could practically hear the blood thrumming in my ears. My hand shook like a leaf as I reached for the doorknob.
Then I paused.
What if the person who did that was waiting out there to see who was in here?
But I couldn't just stay here like a sitting duck, waiting for them to come in here and kill me too…
I slowly opened the door, wincing at the loud creak.
The sound of quick movement came from the other side of the wall.
I instantly dropped to the floor and covered my mouth, not wanting to make a sound. My heart pounded furiously in my chest. How was this happening? My body screamed at me to run, but I needed to squelch that instinct. I needed to be smart about this.
But then… was I wet? Did I just pee myself?
I scanned down and my stomach dropped.
My coffee. I spilled my coffee. I gaped at the dark liquid leaking a tiny trail from me out to the hallway. No, no, no…
A second later, men’s brown work boots appeared right over the puddle of coffee.
My entire body went still as panic gripped my chest, making it hard to breathe. I took in the shoes and then slowly looked up.
Piercing blue eyes stared down at me.
I gulped.
His face was twisted into a menacing scowl, but a split-second later, it transformed into the playful grin I saw only two days ago. But his eyes remained different. There was something sinister, wicked, in his eyes.
“Maggie, right?” he asked, forcing a grin.
I swallowed hard. Play it off, play it the fuck off, Maggie , I ordered myself. “Hey! Timothy!” Way too chipper , I scolded myself. I cleared my throat. “How’s it going?”
He stared down at me. His gaze was unnerving and made me want to bolt away from him. How could someone's vibe change so drastically?
“What’re you doing down there?” His cold eyes narrowed. “I thought you said you were a teacher. This doesn’t look like a school.”
I slowly rose from the ground. I needed to get the fuck out of here. “School year hasn’t started yet. Work from home day,” I said, shrugging. “Just took off my noise canceling headphones to take a break. Need to get some food, so hungry,” I said with a forced smile that I hoped didn’t make me look half-crazed.
He slowly grinned and backed away to make space for me to leave. His sweaty scent hit me and I had to force myself not to make a face at the stench.
“Have a nice rest of your morning,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
Don’t look in his office, don’t look, don’t look, don’t look .
But he left the door wide open.
I didn’t break my pace, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw him. Laying there face down on the desk… was a man with blood seeping out of him from multiple bullet holes. The sight. The smell. It was too much. My stomach rolled. I slapped my hand to my mouth as I power walked away.
Stairs or elevator? Stairs or elevator? I screamed at myself.
Oh God, he could sneak up behind me and throw me down the stairs. So, Elevator. My brain was firing too fast for me to process.
He was letting me leave. Why was he letting me leave?
I hit the elevator button and waited impatiently, feeling like I was going to combust from nerves. Tears stung the back of my eyes. The sight of that dead man was burned into my brain. Bile rose up in my throat and I gagged. I slapped a hand over my mouth again to stop myself. Now was not the time.
The elevator doors were finally closing, giving me a semblance of safety. I needed as much distance between me and him as possible.
When there was about four inches left ‘til freedom, a hand shot between the doors, and my stomach sank. The doors slowly backed open again.
Timothy faced me, the menacing grin back on his face.
No, no, no. My gut twisted.
He casually walked into the elevator and leaned against the opposite side. My whole body trembled with panic, but I forced myself to keep looking ahead. I would not look over at him. I would not give him attention.
Could he smell my fear? Animals could smell fear, couldn't they? He didn’t look entirely human anymore.
Seconds ticked by, but I stayed facing the elevator buttons. Then he let out a sinister chuckle. “Oh, Maggie, Maggie, Maggie.” He sighed. “I liked you.”
My insides spasmed in panic. “I-I-I like you too,” I stammered out.
He clucked his tongue and stalked right up to me, right into my personal space. His sour stench enveloped me. I flinched as he raised his hand. I thought he was going to strike me, grab me. I squeezed my eyes shut, readying for the blow.
But it never came. Instead, his cold hand lightly grazed my face, then stopped. “I said ‘liked’. Past tense, baby.”
My eyes snapped open. I tried to push past him, but his hand shot out and held my hip with such a firm grasp that I was sure it’d leave a bruise.
He dipped closer to me and whispered, “I’m gonna have fun with you first.”
Air wooshed out of me like I just took a sucker punch to the gut . No, no, no. I wanted to live in a book, but not this kind of book. I didn’t have a hot guy coming to my rescue, I wasn’t anyone’s girl, no one even knew me here. How long would it take someone to raise alarms that I was missing? That I was a dead girl.
His hand left me and he backed away, but his taunting laugh filled the air.
He was just trying to scare me, I decided. This didn’t happen in real life. Not my real life, anyway. He wasn’t serious. He just… he couldn’t be serious. He was a veterinarian for God’s sake.
He just had a sick sense of humor… That I totally didn’t want to live next to anymore.
I’d just gather my important stuff and leave before he could torment me. Yeah, that’s what I’d do… It’d be fine. I’d be fine.
As soon as the elevator doors opened, I bolted out of there. I could still hear him snickering behind me.
I ran down the hallway, but I could feel his presence behind me, closing in on me. Right as I reached for my door, he grabbed my ponytail and reared back. My scalp screamed in pain, but I continued to pull away from him. He just continued laughing at me.
“Oh, Maggie, calm down. Why are you so scared, sweetheart?”
I released a scream, but he quickly shoved me forward at his door with such force that I couldn’t stop myself. My face slammed into my doorknob, my right eye socket taking most of the impact. I lost my vision in that eye for a second, and the throbbing pain was immediate.
He chuckled as he stood over top of me. He took out his keys from his back pocket. “I thought you’d be smarter than that, Margaret.” He cocked his head to the side and clucked his tongue. “Who are we entrusting to teach our youths these days?”
I could not let him get me inside his apartment. I’d listened to enough true crime podcasts to know that going in there would be accepting a death sentence.
I took a second to look like I was giving up, then I kicked his nuts as hard as I could. He instantly doubled-over. I scrambled away as fast as I could, my whole body shaking.
“Fucking bitch,” he grunted out.
I didn’t dare look back. I made it to the stairwell and started charging down the stairs while I reached for my phone in my backpack. I started trying to unlock it as I scrambled down the stairs, but my fingers were so panicked, I kept messing up.
A second later, he grabbed my ponytail again, and I fell against the concrete steps. Pain spasmed up my back. I fought like hell to keep my phone away from him, but he overpowered me and grabbed my left wrist. He slowly twisted my wrist until I was forced to drop the phone. It clattered to the ground, and I think it was the worst sound I’d ever heard in my life. But I could not give up. I reared my head back, and I heard a crack. I got him.
“Motherfucking bitch,” he spat.
I tried twisting away from him, but he still had a firm grip on my wrist and hair,
“Naughty, naughty,” he spat. “Just for that.” He shoved me up against the railing, then held a hand to the back of my head, pressing my throat into the cold metal, making me wheeze for air. I couldn’t make a sound. I struggled as hard as I could, but I could see gray seeping into the corners of my vision. And then he started twisting my left wrist agonizingly slowly. And then my wrist snapped. Pain shot through my entire arm.
He pulled me back from the railing and I desperately sucked in air as tears streamed down my face.
“That was just a little taste if you don’t stop. Now,” he breathed, “you’re going to come with me. Got it?”
I didn’t answer.
“Got it?!” He growled, his spit hitting my cheek.
I refused to acknowledge him.
He twisted my wrist again and the white hot pain lanced through me.
I nodded hurriedly to make it stop, squeezing my eyes shut against the wave of hurt.
“Let’s go,” he whispered menacingly.
He led me up the stairs, his hand clamped over my mouth so tightly that I couldn't bite him. I needed to think, think, think.
And that’s when the idea came to mind.
Right as we crossed room #205, I kicked Mildred’s bells as loud as I could.
“You bitch,” he hissed, shoving me forward to pick up the pace.
I kept my eyes shut, praying Mildred heard me.
Right as his key turned in his door, I heard her door pop open.
I made as much noise as I could before he shoved me into his apartment. I slammed to the floor on top of my left arm and screamed out in pain.
He stalked over top of me and I crawled back away from him as quickly as I could, until I bumped into something… Something that felt awfully… Human.
I turned and let out another blood-curdling scream.
He threw his head back laughing evilly.
Two thoughts hit me instantaneously. One– how the hell did I ever find him good looking? And two– what kind of hell did I just enter?
At that moment, I knew I wasn’t getting out of this apartment alive. I looked to the ceiling and the tears streamed down my face.
“Stop crying,” Timothy snarled.
I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop the tears. I hoped to God that Mildred saw me and called for help.
Then he lunged toward me, grabbing the front of my blouse to pull me up, closer to him. The sound of my blouse tearing filled my ears just as the cold hit my bare chest. “Stop it now. If you don’t listen, I’ll just kill you right now ,” he threatened with such feral intensity that I held my breath.
He threw me back on my butt. Buttons from my shirt clattered to the ground. I grappled for anything else on the ground to hurl at him.
“Nope.” He came closer to me and grabbed my hurt arm with a steel-like grip. He produced a zip-tie from somewhere. I fought against him as hard as I could, but then he shook me.
“Stop or I’ll kill you!” he screamed in my face. His blue eyes seared into me with more anger and hatred than I’d ever seen before.
My entire body went still. Silent tears continued to fall. He yanked my left wrist back and laughed at my full-body flinch.
He zip-tied my hands together and unending pain shot up my left arm. Then he took duct tape and covered my mouth. He roughly dragged me across the room and propped me up against the wall.
“Good, now I like you again,” he snarled with a wolfish grin.
I slowly pulled my knees to my chest. At least I still had my legs free.
He crouched in front of me and laughed snidely in my face. “You take me for an amateur, sweetheart?”
He grabbed one of my ankles. I kicked and thrashed, falling to my side, but not caring.
“Stop or I’ll break your fucking leg!” he shouted, bracing one hand above my knee and one below it.
I froze. I knew he wasn’t lying.
He pulled another zip-tie out of back pocket and bound my ankles together.
“Stay,” he barked at me, like I was a dog, his spit hitting me again. Still crouched in front of me, he pulled out his phone and aimed the camera at me.
“Smile,” he said in an amused tone.
I curled in on myself and closed my eyes. His amused chuckle filled the air. His thick hand grabbed my jaw and roughly snapped my neck forward.
“I said smile,” he said coldly.
Tape was on my mouth. Was he fucking insane? Yes. Yes, he was fucking insane. A normal human couldn't produce that animalistic grin.
As soon as he took the picture, he roughly shoved me back.
At least he was standing, walking toward his kitchen. Hopefully he was leaving, then I could think, I could try to make a plan. I could–
A huge boom sounded.
My ears rang loudly.
I squeezed my eyes shut against the pain, wishing I could hold my ears.
When I dared to open my eyes, thick debris filled the air.
Through the smoke, I could see countless large men in uniforms barreling into the room, shouting things I couldn’t comprehend.
Laying my head against my knees, I went into a ball. Would they kill him? I couldn’t watch. I could not see another dead body today. Would they accidentally kill me? Thinking I was with him?
I stayed in that ball as the minutes ticked by. I heard a scuffle, but shots never came.
I continued crying into my knees. Maybe I wasn’t going to die today after all. Mildred must’ve called for help. She saved me. Thank God for that ugly cat. I’d adopt that sucker and give it the best stinking life a cat could have.
After what felt like an hour of staying crouched in that ball, I heard someone yelling in front of me.
They reached for me, but I flinched at their touch and kicked away as best I could, backing up against the rough, brick wall. My whole body violently trembled, fearing Timothy somehow survived and was coming back to finish me off.
But then large hands gently grasped my upper arms. The person in front of me was shouting something, but it felt like I was underwater, not fully hearing. I refused to lift my head. I couldn't imagine opening my eyes to see Timothy crouched in front of me again.
The person thankfully let go, but I could still sense their presence in front of me, not hurting me. After a few beats, I dared to lift my head. I was met with warm, chocolate brown eyes staring back at me. Not cold blue ones. My chest loosened with so much relief that a dam nearly broke inside me, and I couldn’t stop the tears streaming down my face. He stayed in front of me, staring at me, not touching me.
He spoke again, and I realized why it felt like I was hearing underwater. He had a black scarf over the bottom half of his face, muffling his voice. A black beanie was pulled low over his head, covering who he was. Only his brown eyes were exposed. “Are you okay?” he asked again.
I just stared back at him, still crying, still shaking. My teeth were chattering violently and I couldn’t seem to make them stop.
Those brown eyes widened. “Breathe,” he ordered in a deep, authoritative tone. “I need you to breathe for me. I’m going to touch your face to get the tape off you, okay?” He gently placed a large gun on the ground and lifted his hands in innocence. “It’s going to hurt. Keep breathing. In, two, three, four,” he said. “Out, two, three, four.” After my exhale, he ripped the tape off, making me whimper at the pain. He looked over his shoulder and made a hand gesture at the men behind him. His gaze was back on me in a second. “Keep breathing,” he ordered. “You okay?” he repeated.
I nodded furiously, my body still trembling. I was suddenly freezing– like I was outside on a winter day without a jacket.
Someone handed him scissors. “I’m gonna cut the ties, okay?” he asked. I nodded again. My wrists and ankles were free in seconds.
I hugged my arms around myself. Searing pain shot through my wrist, but at least I was alive to feel pain. I was alive .
“We’re gonna leave. Can you walk out on your own?” he asked.
My chin quivered. I already felt like my dignity was stripped away from me. I needed to walk out of his fucking apartment on my own two feet. I gave a short nod. He held a large, gloved hand out to help me up, and I shakily stood. His gaze dipped to my torso, reminding me that my shirt was ripped open. My face flamed as I tried to cover myself.
He immediately shifted, guarding me from everyone else’s view. He placed his gun on the table, then took hold of the back of his quilted black sweatshirt and lifted it over his head. He was still wearing a thin black long-sleeve t-shirt under it. “Here, put it on,” he commanded. “If you want,” he added in a softer tone.
I nodded my thanks and quickly pulled it on, careful not to move my left wrist. The sweatshirt had to be a men’s large because I was swimming in it, but his sandalwood scent and warmth instantly enveloped me, making me feel safer.
His serious eyes locked on mine. “Don’t look at the ground,” he ordered. “Follow me and think of five things you can see and four things you can hear. Do it over and over again until we’re outside. Let’s go.”
Five things I could see… I could only see him. Whoever this drill sergeant guy was, he gave off calm, solid energy, and I wanted to stick by his side. He was holding his large gun again, which usually would’ve made me panic, but right then, I wanted him to have it, just in case Timothy popped up at me. I squeezed my eyes shut and banished Timothy from my mind.
“Five things,” he shouted back at me over his shoulder, like he could sense I was spiraling.
I stared straight ahead at him. His strong arms were covered in his black t-shirt, his extremely long, powerful legs in dark wash jeans carried him out of the room. He towered over me, and even some of the other guys. He had to be above 6 feet tall. His gloved hand motioned to the other men, a mixture of police officers and guys wearing street clothes, but with swat team velcro vests overtop of their shirts.
I wondered for the millionth time what the hell I stumbled into.
I knew one thing for sure: Timothy was so not a veterinarian.
He looked over his shoulder at me again, probably to make sure I hadn’t retreated away into a crying ball again.
I focused on his eyes, such intensity. I wanted to paint them. To mix colors and try to get the shade right. It’d be difficult. I’d have to go for a chocolate color and mix in flecks of gold and honey.
When we made it back to the apartment’s lobby, I stared down at the familiar white tile and everything that just happened came thundering to the forefront of my mind, making me dizzy.
I stumbled forward and caught hold of the doorframe to steady myself. To my left, police officers were swarming the lobby offices, where I was working just this morning.
I could hear his boots crunching on the ground, coming back to me. His large hand grasped my shoulder. He was saying something, but I stopped listening. I shook my head, trying to dispel all the images, but I couldn’t— the blood smeared on the office window. The man on the table, bleeding out. His cold blue eyes, the hatred in his scowl. The body in his apartment—
I leaned forward and vomited all over the floor.
He bit out a curse and then I felt a heavy hand on my back as I continued dry-heaving.
“You’re okay,” he said forcefully, like he was trying to push courage into me to make his statement true.
Despite his efforts, I felt like I was breaking down. My legs wobbled. My throat burned. My eyes stung with tears threatening to come forward.
He shoved a water bottle into my hand.
“Reporters will be here soon,” another guy’s voice said. “The organization might get here first if they catch wind that she’s still here.”
He let out a grunt of dissatisfaction. Then he whispered to me, “We gotta keep moving.”
My stomach twisted. Reporters? The organization? They wanted me ? My feet felt rooted to the floor in fear.
“Hey, me. Focus on me,” he said, pointing to his intense eyes. “You told me you could walk. You can do it,” he said. “Shoulders up. Let’s go.”
Something in his eyes told me he wanted this for me, too. He wanted me to keep this last shred of my dignity. I sucked in a deep breath for courage and listened to him.
He led the way to a black, armored vehicle parked by the curb. He yanked the door open and turned his body, guarding me. He gave me such little space that our bodies brushed as I slid into the car. I could’ve sworn I heard him inhale at our touch. He was standing so straight and he was much taller than me, but I caught his eyes briefly dipping to mine.
I wanted to stay touching him. I wanted to crawl into his side and never leave. He felt solid. Safe.
I scooched over to make space for him, figuring he’d follow me into the car, but as soon as I was seated, he slammed the door shut between us.
Panic rose in my chest, and I scrambled closer to the window. I didn’t want to be alone, and he gave off the only semblance of safety. I stared at him through the glass, my eyes wide with panic.
He made a calm down motion at me. Then he held up his fingers. One, two, three, four. Directing me to breathe.
The car sped away, leaving him and his men behind.