Page 57 of Mine To Hunt

I blink. “Why not?”

“They’re illegal.” His tone lowers slightly. “Pepper spray, tasers, classified the same as firearms here. You get caught with one, it’s serious trouble.”

The words sink like stones in my stomach.

“I just need something to protect myself.” I say quietly. “Someone’s been following me. The police won’t help.”

He studies my face for a moment, his expression shifting from suspicion to something closer to sympathy. Finally he exhales and turns toward a display rack behind the counter.

“Best I can do legally,” he says, pulling down a small black cylinder. “Personal alarm. Pull the pin and it screams loud enough to wake half the street.”

He sets another item beside it. A solid metal torch.

“And this. Heavy flashlight. Bright enough to blind someone for a second if you shine it in their eyes. Also… heavier than it looks.”

I turn the alarm in my hands, imagining the shriek cutting through the night. “Will it actually help?” I ask.

“It’ll draw attention.” He says with a shrug. “Most creeps don’t like attention.”

Relief mixes uneasily with disappointment.

“I’ll take them.” I say.

He rings them up. “Forty euros.”

I hand over the cash, my fingers trembling slightly. He slides the small bag across the counter.

“Stay in well-lit places.” He adds. “And trust your instincts.”

I nod, gripping the bag a little tighter than necessary.

I tuck the items into my bag, the weight of them bringing a small sense of security as I continue to the bus stop. The ride to work feels longer than usual, my mind replaying the attack and stirring up anxiety that makes my stomach knot.

I arrive at the office still feeling tired, the emotional drain from last night making every step feel heavy. Hazel greets me as I sit at my desk. "Morning, Iris. You look a bit worn out. Rough night?"

I force a smile, not wanting to dive into details. "Yeah, just didn't sleep well. But I’m ready to work."

Hazel hands me a stack of files. "Okay, well, take it easy. These are your assignments for today. We need articles between 500 and 700 words each. All the details are inside the folders, so dig in and make them factual but engaging."

I take the files, nodding gratefully. "Thanks, Hazel. I’ll get started right away."

She lingers for a moment. "If you need a break or have questions, just let me know. We all have off days."

Her kindness touches me, easing some of the tiredness. "I appreciate that. I will."

I open the first file, forcing myself to focus. It details an arson attempt at a residential building in the suburbs. Someone poured petrol along the outer walls late at night and tried to light it with matches. A tenant smelled smoke and called emergency services before the fire could spread. Firefighters arrived in time, saving the twenty families inside.

Police found empty petrol cans and footprints leading toward a wooded area, but no suspects yet. A former tenant with recent complaints is being questioned.

I start writing the article, pouring my emotions into the narrative. The shock of such a calculated act leaves me unsettled, and I highlight the tenants' terror in my words.

As I finish and save the draft, I move to the second file. The next file covers a hit-and-run on a busy downtown street. A man was struck by a speeding silver SUV while crossing at a marked pedestrian walkway, throwing him several feet. He suffered severe injuries and remains in critical condition after emergency surgery.

Witnesses say the vehicle was swerving before impact and fled the scene immediately. Police recovered bumper debris, including part of a license plate, and are working to identify the driver. The victim’s wife released a statement, pleading for them to come forward.

I take a deep breath, pushing through the emotional pull. "This is tough." I mutter to myself, but I keep writing.

The third file describes the kidnapping of a ten-year-old girl from her private school’s playground during lunch break. Two masked people took her and forced her into a waiting van before anyone could stop them.