The Plot Calls #30 : "Idle Whispers part 1 of 2"

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and/or Ai-assisted-content-generation. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

____

The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

For the first time in weeks, Officers Gunn and Alvarez were gone. No knocks. No cases. No cryptic warnings.

But that didn’t mean the unease left with them.

Marcus leaned by the window, arms crossed, watching the street below with his usual stillness. Sam sat at his desk, but his attention was nowhere near his laptop. His mind circled the same question, over and over.

“What if they can’t come back?” Sam asked quietly.

Marcus glanced over, unfazed. “Gunn and Alvarez?”

Sam nodded. “We both saw it. Alvarez… he wasn’t himself. Hollow eyes. That posture. And now? Nothing. No check-ins. No knocks. It’s like…”

Marcus finished for him. “They’re turning.”

Sam’s stomach twisted at the word. “You think Alvarez saw the Plot?”

“I think Alvarez wanted something,” Marcus corrected. “Bad enough to catch its attention.”

The silence hung for a moment longer before the tension cracked. Sam pushed away from his desk, pacing the room.

“I’ve been reviewing everything—the files, the anonymous accounts, even old Encrypt Corp reports,” he explained. “It lines up. Everyone who disappears… every idle case… it starts the same.”

“Lack, escape, or desire,” Marcus said flatly.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. But, lately, it’s been greed. More than they can sustain. More than they’re aligned for. They get hungry for it—attention, power, certainty, praise—and the Plot answers.”

Marcus didn’t argue. He just watched, listening.

“But what gets me,” Sam continued, “is the pattern after. They don’t just go idle overnight. It creeps in. Whispers. Paranoia. Obsessions. They chase the very thing that’s going to hollow them out. It’s like being addicted to something, or worse, silencing a craving that can’t be fought with.”

“Alvarez,” Marcus murmured.

“Exactly,” Sam replied. “I think, to your point, something lit a want inside him. What if he attracted The Plot and responded with a whisper of power. Influence. Safety. Or, whatever his desire was. Maybe it exploits the weak spot the catalyst has.”

The room fell quiet again as the words settled.

Marcus finally moved, stepping away from the window. He paused, listening to something Sam wasn’t saying. Concern fell over Marcus's face. “We need to be careful with this, Sam. You’re putting the patterns together now. But patterns can lead to obsession for sense. Completion. That can pull you under too.”

Sam scratched his chin, pensive. “You mean… the same desire to understand it could attract it?”

Marcus nodded once. “Hunger for answers. It’s still hunger. It’s a greed. It’s a lust. Or, it could create a place of pride.”

Sam exhaled, feeling the weight of that truth settle into his bones.

“Then maybe we don’t chase the answers,” Sam said carefully. “We observe. We warn. But we don’t hunger.”

Marcus’s lips quirked, the faintest ghost of approval. “That’s likely the way. Glad to see you might be learning.” He chuckled.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Don’t get smug. You didn’t come up with that on your own.”

Marcus smirked. He shook his head, and laughed.

Sam laughed, “Ah, finally, you seem to be lightening up. You’re like Batman. Just brooding, man.”

Marcus shrugged. He was about to say something. Then, he paused. “Gunn’s here.”

Before Sam could pivot to the shift in the mood, two sharp, deliberate taps rattled the door.

Marcus moved to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. The air shifted with Marcus’s expression. Sam wondered what he knew that they didn’t already discuss. Or, rather, what Marcus felt.

Marcus opened the door. Officer Gunn stood there. Alone.

His face was pale. Eyes sunken. A weight clung to him that wasn’t there before.

Sam, concerned, asked, “Yo, Officer Gunn. Where’s Officer Alvarez?” The words came out sharp—his concern overtaking any attempt to hide it.Gunn hesitated, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “Gone.”

Marcus’s posture tensed, his voice low. “What happened?”

Gunn rubbed his face, the weariness of someone unraveling. “I… I suspected something. Intuition. He caught a glimpse of… something. And it awoke something inside him. He wanted more.”

Sam’s voice cracked slightly. “Did he… did he turn?”

Gunn nodded, his eyes distant. “Idle. Plot Person. One of those… things. And after… after he faced whatever it was… he vanished.”

The room sank into silence, the weight of it pressing against their chests.

Sam and Marcus’s faces were still. Solemn.

Officer Gunn glanced at both of them. “I knew you knew. We all knew. He was fading. We felt it,” Gunn lamented, voice brittle. “I didn’t believe it at first. The Plot is a choice. People choose it. It whispers. They decide. It’s more complicated, and yet more simple than I wanted to believe. But now… now I see it.”

Marcus exchanged a knowing glance with Sam, the unspoken truth settling between them.

Sam exhaled slowly, his words quiet, but steady. “So, who’s gonna say it?”

Marcus sighed. “It’s my turn, I guess.”

Confused, Gunn asked, “Are you guys making a joke at a time like this?”

“Not all. Just propelling the plot. You know… thematic marketing layered in… Forget it. Marcus, just do it,” Sam said, relieving the tension.

Marcus looked at Gunn. “No joke at all, Officer. It's just my turn to say…” Marcus paused, crossed his arms. Locked eyes with Gunn. He smirked, and said:

“The Plot Thickens.”

____

Want to follow my horror, fantasy, scifi, and romance content as I publish it?

Subscribe to my "Mark A Figueroa Presents" Official YouTube Channel for videos.

Join my Official Discord Server for notifications by genre.

Join my WhatsApp Group for easy and simple updates for all my content.