The Warning A Quiet Pressure Short

This story contains themes suitable for adults. Please proceed only if you are 18+

“Sometimes you can’t warn people what’s coming, not because you don’t know, but because they simply can’t comprehend their own fate.”

J.E. Nickerson

Shannon Walker folded her hands in her lap. The fan above her turned slowly overhead. Her dark hair hung in her face. 

She studied the detective on the other side of the table. His gaze was calm and measured. His posture exuded a quiet, confident authority that filled the room. 

“I’m not lying to you. He will die if you don’t do something about it.”

Detective Travis Grant sighed. He shuffled the papers in front of him, looking at her statement again. 

“You expect me to believe that a man who has never been in trouble before, never submitted a report with us is going to die tomorrow?”

Shannon leaned in, then pulled back. “It sounds crazy, I know. I can’t, I can’t explain how I know.” She twisted the hem of her dress between her fingers. “I just do. I had a, dream.”

Travis sighed and met her gaze. “I’ve been a detective for twenty years. I’ve seen people do a lot of horrible things to each other. Last month a psychic came in telling us that he was convinced someone would kill his wife. Three weeks later when his wife died, we investigated and found that he had poisoned her. In his statement he repeatedly told us that he tried to warn us.”

Shannon shifted, her eyes drifting to the door. “I’m not like that.” She said quietly. She paused. “I’m not a psychic detective. I can’t tell you how I know about this. I just do.”

She placed her hands on the table, meeting his gaze. “When I was a little girl I discovered that I just knew things. Call it being sensitive, call it whatever you want. But I do know that I had a dream two nights ago. I fought with myself about coming here. She paused again. 

Most people look at me and see some crazy woman who has dreams. Or hears voices. It isn’t like that. I don’t even believe in the supernatural. I just know things.

Travis removed his phone and began taking notes. 

“And you say you saw Senator Sanders in his bed dead?”

Shannon stared at him, trying to recall the specifics of the dream. “I saw him,” she closed her eyes , forcing the images back. “He was in bed with a woman. Young. They were naked together.” She paused as the memory cleared and stabilized. “She was, riding him. Then she… She had a knife. She just…” Shannon felt a shiver run down her spine. The images clarified. 

“She kept stabbing. Over and over. I don’t know why.”

Travis paused and looked at her. “Three days ago the senator held a press conference that was televised. Everyone saw it. He also talked about the recent death threats that had been made against him.”

Travis’ tone was steady. He did not shift his gaze from Shannon’s face. 

“Now, whether you have a gift or not is not my concern. I have your statement.” Travis paused and reviewed it again. 

“Detective,” Shannon leaned in. “If you knew someone was in danger and you did nothing, what would you think if it happened.”

Travis shifted. He looked at Shannon’s statement in the file in front of him, then he looked back at her.

Step into the world of Quiet Pressure Thrillers — where every choice has consequences, and no one walks away unchanged. For Mature Audiences Only. Enter the series at https://wearewisethinkers.com/welcome-to-the-world-of-quiet-pressure-thrillers/