Chapter Text
There was a strange place in southern California. It was a factory. A factory owned by Acme; a corporation that was known for producing almost anything you could imagine. Acme was founded shortly after World War One, but job offerings for the particular factory I’m referencing only started appearing in local newspapers in the early 1930’s.
But the peculiar thing about it was that none of the vague blurbs in the paper ever mentioned what was being produced at that particular factory. Even when it comes to a near omnipotent monopoly like Acme, different types of products were produced in different factories. Every other factory that produced products for Acme were if nothing else; transparent about the types of products made there (even if they never really confronted the dodgy quality of some of them).
Most folks in the area had the privilege of finding it rather suspicious, but when a person is desperate, it doesn’t matter how sketchy it might seem. If someone hands you a glass of water in the middle of a desert, you drink it. You don’t stop to question whether or not the water might be poisoned.
Acme promised to deliver a lot of things to potential workers at that factory. To give those less fortunate a chance at building a better future. To give them a shot at maybe being somebody in a world that wouldn’t miss them if they disappeared the next day. To give them the tools to reach their acme. You don’t have to say that much to someone who needs something. Their minds will fill in most of the blanks for you.
That small blurb in the paper became a lifeline for some people. “Factory Workers Wanted for Acme Corporation. No previous work experience required. Pays living wage.” was more than enough to catch people in their trap. Hook, line, and sinker.
And so everything seemed to be going well. People who took up jobs at that factory usually seemed pretty happy for a while. That is, until they disappeared. Only the locals seemed to notice. But they didn’t know any of the workers well enough to really connect it to a pattern. Most of them just assumed the “missing” workers had quit and skipped town.
Sure, the ads the company had posted in the paper were a little odd, but there was no reason to suspect foul play. At least not to complete strangers.
That is, until one of the people who went missing wasn’t a stranger to the world. I guess that’s where I come in. I had always been close with my cousin. His name was William. Even though we grew up on different sides of the country, we would always write each other letters and call each other on the phone whenever we could.
Each year, we always made the most of our short time together at our family reunions. Even after how much things have changed, I still clearly remember the both of us snickering under the dinner table; our aunts and uncles all pretending they didn’t know we were “spying” on them as they played card games over our heads (literally).
We must’ve been like seven or eight back then. That was about a decade before either of us got sucked into the never ending nightmare of a rabbit hole regarding the Acme situation.
In 1936, William got a job working for Acme. I still remember the excitement in his voice on the day he called me with the news. He had always had an independent streak like me, so the prospect of making enough money to support himself was something truly special to him.
With every new phone call or letter, there would be another reason why he was happy to be out on his own. Things seemed to be going swimmingly for him. At least, that’s how it went for the first year or so.
The phone rang one evening. Mom was busy making dinner, and Dad was still at work, so I decided to answer. As soon as I held the phone up to my ear, a tense voice shot through before I could even load any words onto my tongue.
“Hello, is Benjamin there?” I would recognize that voice anywhere. It was William. But something was wrong. His voice was steady, but the cadence was off. Every syllable was delivered just a tad too stiffly.
I couldn’t register what emotion I heard in his voice, but as soon I heard it, a deep dread burrowed its way through my stomach. I drew in a deep breath just to be sure that the walls of my lungs still had any give to them. Because at that moment, I had nearly convinced myself that I turned to stone. I didn’t know why it disturbed me so much. I just knew that I had never heard him like this before
“It’s me, Will. Is everything alright? You sound… tired.” My voice was barely above a whisper as I replied. I felt an intense paranoia that somebody could be listening. And I wasn’t entirely certain what it was that I didn’t want them to hear.
Tired certainly wasn’t the right word to describe the voice I heard on the other end of the line. But we both knew what I meant.
“Ben, thank goodness you picked up! I’m not sure how to explain everything. You know that one co worker I told you about? Dale? I’ve told you stories about him, right?” Some of the tension in his voice softened, but I’m pretty sure that tension was the only thing holding his words together, because there was now a trembling edge of panic cutting into it.
“What did Dale do this time?” I asked, secretly hoping that this would just be another story about Dale screwing up at his job and somehow affecting William in the process. But I knew deep down that the truth was probably something more serious.
“Actually, he didn’t do anything this time.” William said quietly, “That’s the problem.”
“Wait, what?” I figured I didn’t hear that right. I couldn’t have. This was Dale we were discussing. Literally one of the only things about work that William ever complained about. From all the stories William had told me, Dale seemed to be a completely incompetent trainwreck of a young man.
“I haven’t seen him for over a month, Ben. We somehow always got paired up together for shifts. But one day, I just showed up and was told to mop the floors alone. Yesterday, I finally asked my manager if Dale had gotten fired or something. She just turned to me with this weird smile and said, ‘That’s confidential’. I’m just not sure how to explain it. It just really creeped me out, you know? I know I definitely sound crazy right now.” His voice was shaking even more with every new sentence.
I think part of him wanted me to agree that he was being dramatic. So he would be forced to stop worrying. But I knew my cousin. He had always had a very rational mind. It didn’t make sense for him to be so worried over something so trivial; albeit peculiar. There had to be something more.
“That’s a little strange.” I admitted, letting the words leave my mouth slowly to make sure they were all in the right place. “Her response, I mean. Can you tell me more?”
“Ben, he’s the fifth person who’s gone missing.” William hissed.
“Missing? Are you sure they went missing? Who else are you referring to?” I asked, trying to remain calm for his sake.
“I thought it was just a coincidence. I really did. But nothing is making any sense anymore. I guess I just didn’t want to admit it.” He rambled on, seemingly in his own world at this point. “I just know I can’t quit this job.” He mumbled.
“Please just tell me what happened. Tell me everything you can.”
“Ok,” He managed to say after a long breath, “Ben, in the year that I’ve been employed by Acme, I never once figured out exactly what they make at their so-called factory. Over the span of this past year, five of my coworkers stopped showing up to work. There’s no goodbyes or anything. Whenever I would ask my other coworkers, they would claim not to have heard from the missing coworkers either. Once they stop showing up to work, I never see them around town anymore. It’s like they just vanish. Three of them I considered to be good friends of mine. It may sound absurd, but I know for a fact that if they just quit their jobs and left town, those lads would have said goodbye to me first. They never give any indication of wanting to quit or being dissatisfied with their livelihood before they vanish. Five whole people, just gone.” He explained all in one, rapid, hushed breath.
I paused for a moment to digest everything I had just heard. My brain was still stuck on the part about where my cousin worked at a factory for an entire year and was never once told what the factory produced. He never talked about the products, but for some reason I had always just assumed it was because he wasn’t supposed to disclose some sort of trade secret.
With this new information revealed, my original assumptions about my cousin’s job now seemed foolish and naive. If they could keep him in the shadows for an entire year, what on Earth were they hiding? It made complete sense to be suspicious about the disappearing co-workers.
“Will, that’s not normal. If you’re suspicious, I would advise quitting and finding another job.” I replied, “I trust you, ok? I trust that everything you’re saying is true. And I want you to trust your intuition.”
Will let out a long, tired sigh. There was absolutely no hope left in his breath; only this inevitable brand of dread that was hard to grasp completely.
“I can’t quit this job.” His voice now sounded muffled, like all the muscles in his face were too tense from holding back tears to speak properly.
“Of course you can. You’re smart, capable, and hardworking. If you can’t afford a place to live, I’m sure your parents would let you move back in with them until you find employment again-”
“Stop. Just stop, Ben.” He snapped. The words that shot through the line were loud and solid, but they weren’t angry at all. There was only exhaustion. A small croak followed. Then silence.
“Will, what’s the matter?” I asked gently. I couldn’t remember the last time I had heard him so upset.
“I- I didn’t choose to move out. I had to. My parents don’t want anything to do with me anymore.” He admitted quietly, “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it was necessary to mention.”
“Why would they do that?” I asked. This was a genuine surprise to me. He always seemed to have a great relationship with his folks. What could have possibly happened to change that? What can possibly get between a pair of loving parents and their only son?
“It doesn’t matter, Ben.” He croaked, “And I’m not gonna be able to work anywhere else anyways. If I quit, they say they will make sure that I’m never hired anywhere else ever again.”
“Maybe you could’ve led with that.” I replied sarcastically. I knew it probably wasn’t the time, but I wasn’t sure what else to say. I personally would’ve been startled if my workplace was holding me hostage, but I guess some people are able to make things seem so normal that you drive yourself mad for questioning it. It appeared as though my cousin had fallen victim to this.
“Oh, God.” I could hear his voice break. It wasn’t a quiet break. It was raw and intense. His voice wasn’t the only thing that broke inside of him at that moment. This was probably the first time in a very long time that he didn’t feel insane. “I thought I was losing my mind. Something is wrong, something is very, very wrong.”
“I’m sorry.” I replied. At that moment, I wasn’t sure what else to say. My entire body was shaking. This was my favorite cousin; my favorite ‘brother’; my partner in crime. He was trapped in an impossible situation and I had absolutely no idea how to help him.
I hated being reminded that certain things were out of my control. Especially if it involved the people I cared about. I was angry at fate for wrapping its strings around William and puppeting him around like he was nothing. But more than angry, I was scared knowing that I was just as much at the mercy of the universe as he was.
If we took it to court, we could never win. Acme was a huge, albeit enigmatic, corporation. They had a contract with the government. In addition to enough money to cover up literally any scandal.
“Benny, dinner’s ready!” I felt my skin jump for a split second as my mother’s voice rang from the kitchen.
“I should probably say goodbye then.” William said, his words trailed by a small sniffle, “I wouldn’t want your dinner to get cold.”
“Only if you promise you’re ok.” I demanded.
“I’m ok, I promise. I’ll call you at this exact time next week. If I don’t, then you’ll know that something happened, alright?”
“Alright,” I agreed reluctantly, “Goodbye, Will. I’m looking forward to hearing from you next week.”
“Me too. Goodbye, Ben. Have a wonderful night.” I could almost hear the fake smile in his voice. It was taking him everything he had to pull himself together.
Those were the last words I would ever hear from him.
“Benny, did you not hear me? I said that dinner is ready! Come set the table!” My mother shouted.
“My apologies. I just got distracted.” I explained after hanging up the phone and rushing into the kitchen.
“What were you doing?” Mom asked.
“Somebody called.” I felt my chest stiffen. Sure, I wasn’t lying, but I was being deceitful about the nature of the call. It wasn’t as relaxed as what I was presenting it as.
“Who?” Mom asked casually, pulling a roast out of the oven as I laid down the placemats at the table.
“Someone from Oklahoma.” I lied, “I told him that he called the wrong number.”
“Alright then.” Mom replied. She didn’t suspect a thing. That made the lie feel even worse. It meant I was entirely alone in this feeling of sinking dread.
After I finished setting the table, my mother instructed me to go call my younger siblings inside to eat. I did exactly that. I was silent the whole dinner. Luckily, my silence was completely negligible underneath the chatter of four young children monologuing about their imaginary adventures.
My Mom and her sister were close. It was logical to assume she already knew that her nephew had been disowned. I didn’t want to make things awkward by mentioning William. He was in trouble, but I wasn’t sure the rest of his family would be interested in helping him. If there was anything they could do to help at all.
I decided to go to bed earlier than I normally did that night. But I didn’t get very much sleep. I remember the agony of waiting through those seven days, waiting for the phone to ring.
It was the second Wednesday night that June. 6:45 PM came and went like any other time. William didn’t call. He always kept a promise. By around 11 PM that night, as I stood alone in the dark living room, eyes fixed on the phone, I was absolutely certain. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.