Vacancy In Oakhaven

All my life I've never liked quiet towns. That was why I left my hometown for the city. They always felt like sleeper cells to me. I loved the bubbly, chaotic life of the city. They get my adrenaline running. I guess the government never knew this when they sent me to this old town with a faded sign that read 'Welcome to Oakhaven' for work. I adjusted my glasses and wiped my palms on my trousers as I drove past the signboard that led into the town.

According to the government map on his clipboard, the place had a “100% vacancy rate.” I never knew what it meant at first until I did some research and discovered what it meant. Empty. Abandoned. Almost like nothing to count. Makes me wonder why I was sent there for the census count.

But something caught my attention, for a town that was supposed to be empty, it had lawns that were green and neatly, freshly cut. The kind that left neat stripes in the sunlight. Flowers stood straight in their beds. The houses looked newly painted, their windows clean and shining. Not even a speck of dust on the cars

I slowed down. “That’s strange,” I murmured. "Where are the people? Who took care of these houses?" I asked myself while still driving on the empty road, trying to find someone, anybody.

I parked my car in front of a white house with a blue door. Then I got down. The air was warm and inviting. The aroma of roasted chicken and bread filled the air. The streets were deserted, but with that aroma, I was sure someone would be home.

I put my long, thin legs ahead of each other, heading for the door I thought the aroma was emanating from. My sharp cheekbones and tired eyes darted from one foot to the other. I had spent years knocking on doors, asking questions, writing names. My badge had been my comfort. But this time, I didn't feel safe in this town. At all.

I got to the door and knocked, “Hello?”

I waited, and there was no reply.

The porch looked so clean. The wood beneath my foot felt solid under my shoes. I could see through the window a large dining table already set: three plates, steam rising from the food, glasses filled with water. Chairs pulled out, waiting

"For whom?" I muttered. “Alright… that’s not funny,” I continued softly.

I moved on to the next house, my unease growing gently. I heard creaks from the park swings swaying on their own. No children were in sight. On the side was a barber shop with a loud radio playing soft music, and a warm towel rested on the chair as if the barber had just stepped away. Like the others, everywhere was empty, as if life had ceased in that town.

Each house I knocked on had nobody to answer the door. Before I knew it, I had reached the town square, and my throat felt dry. I tried to call the office when I saw her.

A woman standing beside the fountain, just in the middle of the park. She had bright red hair and was dressed in a yellow dress, glowing under the sun. She was still. Too still for a human.

I didn't care. Relief washed over me. At least someone to tell me where everyone in the town was. I approached quickly but carefully.

“Ma’am, thank goodness. I’m Elias. From the census office. I just need—” I stretched out my hands for a shake, but she didn’t respond or move.

“Ma’am?” I reached out to touch her. Immediately, her head snapped. Like a zombie who had seen prey.

I stumbled back. Falling on the floor

“There is a vacancy,” she said. Her voice scraped like stone. “We need one more.”

“Vacancy?" I asked, jumping to my feet. "What do you mean?"

"We need one more vacancy," She continued, coming towards me

By now, I was sweating under the hot sun. "I… I should go,” I stammered.

“The town must appear alive,” the woman continued.

Suddenly, the doors of houses around the square opened, and people stepped out. First was a tall man in a well-tailored suit. Then, a girl holding a hoop who had this weird, stiff smile on her face. Another came from an old man with a pipe. Each had the same stiff smile, their skin the same strange texture. Smith and oddly shiny under the sun

They seemed to walk slowly yet fast as they closed in on me in seconds.

My heart pounded. I quickly turned and ran back toy car, my shoes stamping the pavement. “No. I'm sorry. I'm not the one you want!” I yelled.

They blocked the street ahead. Before I could get to my car..

It felt like an ambush. I was scared to my bones with no idea what to do. I tried calling the office again, but there was no reception. I was alone, and that meant I needed to defend and fight my way out.

I quickly turned to my side in search of a weapon. I grabbed a wooden sign from the sidewalk, the only weapon I could see around. Then I held it high like a sword and swung it hard as I approached the human barricade. It hit them one after the other. And like objects on the sidewalk, the figure fell easily, then began to rise again, smile unchanged.

I didn’t wait to understand what was going on. I quickly ran to my car, jumped inside, and jammed the key into the ignition. Hands shaking. But my car didn't turn on

The red-haired woman was closing in on me. I watched as she got close and pressed herself against his window. “Accept the vacancy. It is yours, Elias.”

I struggled with the ignition until finally the engine roared to life. I swerved hard, reversing like a madman, then with the speed of an F1 driver, I ran through the figures, crushing through them and speeding off toward the road that led out of the town. Past the faded signboard.

I drove until the neat houses disappeared in my mirror. I drove until I saw the yellow gas station that welcomed me back to the world.

My heart was pounding. My hands were shaking. Then came the silence. I had escaped. Soon, the noise of the city filled my ears. But something in me still couldn't shake the feeling that even though I was miles away from them, Oakhaven had counted me in as one of them.