She stepped into the empty locker room, and let out a slow long sigh. I really don't think I can stand Officer Johnson's frequent stops at the diner, she thought, "I needa cuppa kicking caffeine to keep this o' machine running," he would say. They were almost late for the patrol time-in because of Johnson's caffeine addiction.
Unbuttoning her uniform in one hand, she reached into her locker for her usual after work clothes and pull off her bun then tied her hair into a loose ponytail. The locker room was darker than usual after the bulb near the first roll of locker went out. She's not afraid of the dark, it's just the damp cold air that made her uncomfortable. A shiver went down her spine and she hastily put on her coat, grabbed her bag, and closed the locker door habitually without even looking at it.
Creek. Dammit, the locker's door was stuck again. She turned to the direction of her rusty locker. It was closed. It looked like just any other neatly lined up lockers.
She drew in a deep gasp when she turned back. Someone was standing in the doorway.
"You're not supposed to be here," She called out to the shadow.
"Are you new here? Show me your ID, sir, the gent's locker room is on the other side." The shadow remained quiet.
"Sir, I said you're not supposed to be here." Her fear turned into anger, she was walking straight up to the shadow. When she turned the corner to face the man in the dark, the man had already disappeared.
A week later, she disappeared from work. As a police officer, it was really a peculiar case. They only found her body after a week, separately. Her head was placed in her very own locker. Frozen and well preserved with dried ice. The locker was not stuck.