So after we got the message, we all froze. Like there was no sound at all coming from the room, key the silence as Dakota explained before. Our breathes were stuck in our lungs and we all had our eyes open, not blinking, in shock. Dakota herself, had her hands touching the screen, where she had opened the email. Alec had stood up, and his body was tense like a tiger, ready to strike. He made no sound but just stood there, his eyes not believing it. Mirabel however, scared us the most. She fell back in a dead faint landing with a crash on the floor, making us all spring into action. My reaction, me being Jordan, was different. I sat down and put my head in my hands while Dakota went to help Mirabel. Alec was still staring at the screen whispering Italian prayers under his breath. It wasn't impossible, but somehow it was. The message was clear and easy to read:
You are going to die soon. You are going to be murdered. Save yourselves, you know how. ~ The Protector
Who it was from really was a mystery, as the email was just TheProtector@gmail.com. Simple, and untraceable it seemed. As soon as we all woke up from our shock, we sprung into action, like wolves on their prey. Dakota went forward and saved the email, and forwarded it from the company email to our personal ones and then deleted it on the company one. She got onto her laptop, her fingers moving across the board with practice, looking for any information on "The Protector" without being asked.
Alec, seeing Dakota's quick movement, followed her example and flew onto his own laptop. He started seaches, trying to trace the email. His eyebrows were scrunched up in concentration. His teeth, biting his lip and his feet tapping the ground, in a fast rythym. Tap. Tap. Tap-tap. Tap. Tap-tap. Tap. I could hear the sharp clicks of his mouse, like a movie, where you hear and watch it, but cant do anything to change it. Click click click click...Click...Click click click...Click...
Mirabel reacted the slowest, staying to re-read it for a minute on her screen, having opened up her email. She then started what she was best at....Thinking. She brang up tabs, full of searches, on anonymus messages from people. She started searching for warnings and what to do. She started making theories in her head. I watched her, wondering what to do for a second.
My normal role was the joker, the hands on sort of guy. The person who put the theories and research, together into reality. But how could I do anything now? I just sat down and re-read the note. The note saying we would be killed, murdered.
I stood and said in my strongest voice:
"Lets relax. Its a prank. go home. We ARE fine. Remember, work is tomorrow despite Christmas. Lets go"
I took my coat, and left the building, getting home to Mary and wondering....
Was it really a parnk?