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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/Bradegan_um on 2025-07-10 14:55:05+00:00.

I stood staring into the sink. It was the next day. I hadn’t slept at all, I was too busy trying to wash the blood off the pages of the book so that I could read more. I just ended up washing some of the ink and lead off. I lost track of time and only realized it when the sun came up through my blinds. I wanted to call out of work, but I needed to find some link between Grant’s book to reality. I needed to prove that maybe he was delusional, that maybe he did harm Raymond. Someone grabbed my shoulder and spun me around.

“Jaclyn?” It was an unfamiliar voice.

“Christ! What? What are you doing?” I was in my own little world when the new hire woke me up.

“Gosh, man, I was just introducing myself, y’know? Sorry, Lady,” said the new hire. I didn’t realize how harsh my words were at the moment; I told myself I was cranky from the lack of sleep, really, it was the lack of answers.

“Oh my, I’m sorry. My name is Jaclyn. You're the new hire? Nice to meet you! Sorry, I was just on autopilot, I guess.” I ended with a nervous chuckle that made me sound stir-crazy.

“Oh, it's okay, y’know? I was just asking cuz I think my schedule is all messed up. But bossman is telling me I’m staying here late with him because of an event or whatever pickleball tournament they are running here.” The new hire said before walking towards the board in the hallway.

He was right. He was scheduled until midnight along with Maxwell. The latest I’ve ever been here was 9:00. Grant and Raymond’s faces glared up at me from the bottom of the announcement board. The photo of Grant looked like he was staring into my eyes. I looked for a way to change the subject.

“So, what’s your name? Maybe Maxwell just wants to teach you as much as you can learn in a day. It’s your second day, right? I bet you will like this job! I’ve been here for just over three years!” My mouth rambled out.

“How long were they here?” He was looking at Maxwell and Grant. The question made the hallway fall quiet.

“Raymond was here for 10 years, Grant five.” My high-pitched fake work voice fell away. 

“Cool. Bet they got shit done, y’know?” He said as he walked back to the dish pit. I did know. Raymond taught me how to get 4 hours of dishes done in 30 minutes. Grant taught me how to dive and deliver food on the shitty golf cart. Grant also told me about the thing in the sink. I was fighting with the question, was there even anything in the sink all morning. I practically had my head down the drain with my phone flashlight for the first hour of my shift. The idea that Grant was a delusional and harmful person was what I was hoping for. I wanted to punch myself so hard bones would shatter just for thinking that.

The next few hours kept my mind busy training the teenage stoner. It was a blessing in disguise.

“Oh, dude, this stain just won’t come out! Do you think you can take over Jackie? I need to hit a dart.” It was whatever his name was. I was busy observing the blood stains on the poster again. It was the start of a large slash of blood that still hadn’t been cleaned up. I followed the slash up the wall, and it ended at a security camera. It was one of those things your brain never registers until everything else in your surroundings is silent. It was pointed right at the sink and to the drying racks behind it, where I was sitting. Maybe I could get my answer to whether the thing in the sink really exists. The security office was at the front of the retirement community. I passed by it every day I worked. I didn’t want to wait until the end of my shift, but I didn’t want Maxwell to be left alone with the toddler currently struggling to remove a ketchup stain from a ceramic plate.

“I’m gonna go check with Maxwell about your schedule, okay? Making sure all is good!” I said in my work voice. I needed to talk to a normal person for a few minutes. At least, maybe to discuss the camera and what I found in that journal.

“Uh, dude? I just asked for help. And you walk away? Whatever, man.” I paid him no attention as I walked towards Maxwell’s office. I grabbed the keys for the golf cart hanging on the outside of the office door before knocking. A quiet weeping came from inside the door. I paused. Maybe now wasn’t the time to talk about a camera and a bloody journal; instead, maybe a little check-up. I knock and here him quickly cleans up inside his small room. The door opens, and out pops Maxwell.

“Hey Jaclyn, need something?” He asks.

“I’m just making sure you’re okay. So, you okay?” He takes my words in for a second and thinks. I also take this time to appreciate the moment of being able to talk to him. Maxwell is always wearing a flannel over his work shirt; it seems like it would go good with a beard, but his face is clean-shaven nonetheless. The orange flannel he has on now matches his green eyes well. Green eyes that were bloodshot from crying. 

“Can, can I give you a hug?” I ask. He sucks on his lips and gives me a nod. It's a quick one, no more than five seconds long. It was awkward, but for a moment, I forgot all about everything. All about Grant. I hope Maxwell did too. I back off and sit down on the stool in the room while he sits back down on his chair. 

“Want to talk? About stuff going on?” I said. I couldn’t poison this man's mind with the contents of the journal or the fact that I believed that something lived in the sink. 

“Yeah. Fuck where to begin, am I right?” He chuckles out, but I chuckle with him. We talked for about half an hour. We talk about life, but mostly about Raymond and Grant. 

I share my favorite memory of Raymond, that being his band. They were a mariachi band that sometimes played for some of the residents. I usually snuck out to listen whenever they came. I always sat in the back, and he always, without fail, managed to see me and give me a thank you after the show. He was an amazing guitar player, makes me wish I stuck with it. Maxwell said his favorite memory of Raymond was all of the mustache grooming tips he got whenever there was downtime. Raymond did have a very well-trimmed horseshoe mustache.

Maxwell’s favorite memory of Grant is when he first taught Grant how to run deliveries. Apparently, Grant hit three mailboxes, 2 parked cars, and barely missed an old woman walking her dog. Maxwell was convinced that the flat tire was Grant's fault.

When I had to share my favorite memory of him, the journal crowded my head. I could see the memory I knew I wanted to talk about, but almost everything in it was altered. The joint Grant handed me at the end of my first shift was rolled in bloody paper, and his arm was still gone; he was using his ulna and radius to hold the joint. 

“I just have too many to choose from,” I said. I couldn’t describe what I saw. 

“I should probably go back and help the new hire.” I figured I spent enough time checking up with Maxwell and probably should go do something productive, not that this wasn't.

“Thanks, Jaclyn, I appreciate you.” He said right before he left his office. I was thankful for him, too. I’m glad he was still around. I forgot all about asking him for the new hire’s schedule. Oh well.

Right as the clock it 7, it was time to go check the security footage. I said goodbye to Maxwell and the new hire and headed for the door.

I had yet to lay eyes on it, the final barrier holding back the part of my body begging to believe in it. Hopefully, you know, I was going to prove that it was either mad ramblings or nothing else. Wouldn’t the police have checked it? If they had done this mystery would have been solved right away. I was beginning to believe that this might have been a futile trip. I pulled over next to the small building, got out of the car, and hastily walked to the door of the office, and without meaning to, pounded on the door harder than I imagined. I might as well go through with it. The door swung open, and Reggie looked down at me with surprise. 

“Oh, ohohoh hi Jaclyn, you gave me a scare.” He gave a hearty chuckle.

“Sorry, Reggie, I was coming to check something.” 

A puzzled look grew upon his face.

“Is… everything alright?” He asked.

“Yeah, I just… I noticed the security camera above the sink.” I barely finished the sentence before Reggie’s face changed color in an instant. He shifted his body just barely to block the camera feed behind him at the desk. Thousands of alarm bells rang in my head.

“Well… yeah? What about it? You know we can’t give out any of the footage, Jaclyn.” He said hastily.

“I never asked for footage, Reggie.” Those words came out of their own accord in a sudden bounce of confidence. Reggie was caught up in his words, trying to formulate a sentence.

“Look. I want to see what happened that night. You’ve seen it. The thing in the sink.” 

I took the biggest gamble of my life with that sentence. Either he would know what I’m talking about, or look at me absolutely bewildered. Reggie regained his composure and, with a blank, cold face, asked, “Did Maxwell send you?” 

Those four words derailed the momentary confidence I had found. Did Maxwell know about this? He didn’t tell me? All the confidence I had gained in that moment washed away. While my thoughts were running through my mind, my head started a slow, somber nod.

“Hmmmm. I guess it was about time. It’s been hard for us. I’ve never heard him refer to it as the thing in the sink, though. Come in.” Some of Reggie’s kindness returned to his face as he shot me a quick smile. He opened his st...

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