Interview 3 – Brandon Druga

“Let’s make one thing perfectly clear,” Brandon said dryly as he escorted me to a quiet room at the far end of the hallway, “I’ll answer your questions, but make it snappy. I’ve got a department to run, and a meeting in 10.”

We sat in a tiny space with nothing but two conference room chairs, a desk, and a landline. The suited man in front of me fiddled with his cellphone, never giving me a second glance. It was clear to me that he only agreed to meet because he thought it was mandatory. I was determined to make sure he never found out it wasn’t. He looked like the kind of guy who’d easily have me fired if he discovered the truth.

“R-right. I just want to go over the accident report you filed a couple months ago,” I said nervously. Already, I could feel sweat trickling down the sides of my face.

Mr. Druga rubbed his thick salt-and-pepper beard with one hand, while answering emails with the other, “What about it?” he asked impatiently.

I knew I didn’t have much time with this guy, and frankly, I didn’t want to spend much time with him anyways, so I cut to the chase, “You reported seeing a man in red. I was wondering if you could tell me more about him,” I requested.

For a split second, the stern expression on his face faded. I could have sworn I saw fear in his eyes. However, it wasn’t long before his poker face reappeared.

“He was in the stairwell when it happened. On a platform between two flights. I didn’t hear him go up or down the stairs ahead of me, so I think he’d been standing there for a while,” he uttered, lowering his voice, “He didn’t look right. I can’t really explain it…something about him made my damn skin crawl.”

“Did you speak to him?” I asked.

“Yes. I asked him what the fuck he was doing there, but he just glared at me. Then I started feeling winded. I’m a healthy guy, okay? I don’t care what the doctors say, I didn’t have cholesterol problems. My ticker was fine. There was no reason for me to have a heart attack!” he said, slamming his hand against the desk angrily.

Was he implying what I thought he was implying? Did he just have too much pride to admit he had health issues? Before I could ask another question, he spoke again, his voice even lower.

“I don’t care what anyone says. I don’t care how crazy this sounds…I’m telling you, that guy…he wasn’t normal,” murmured Mr. Druga as he averted his gaze, “He gave me that heart attack, I just know it.”

I was taken aback by his bold claim, “You mean…because he startled you?”

The man shook his head, but didn’t volunteer more information.

It felt as though Brandon Druga wanted to say more, but couldn’t bring himself to open up. He needed to be coaxed. Hoping to gain his trust, I took the honest route and explained myself, “Do you think he triggered the heart attack somehow? Look, Mr. Druga, I…don’t want to be forward, but I’ve been researching this man. I don’t think you’re the first person who’s seen him. I think he’s been going around campus hurting people. I’m trying to figure out what’s going on here, but I need more answers. Can you help me?”

Brandon Druga hesitated once more, then finally opened up, “What I tell you today, you can’t repeat to anyone, understood?” he asked.

“Understood.”
“I don’t think he…it…was human. This is going to sound insane, but I know what I saw. He didn’t have a reflection, he didn’t have a shadow, and his legs…his legs kind of faded halfway down,” whispered Brandon in a voice so low I had to strain to hear him, “I swear, he was some kind of ghost.”

That was the last thing I expected to hear from someone like Mr. Druga. I think Brandon saw the look of shock in my eyes. I hoped it wasn’t going to make him clam up again.

Thankfully, he finished, “I felt fine up until I saw him. The entire stairwell suddenly became cold, and I started feeling pressure in my chest. I fell over clutching my shirt. Just as I started blacking out, I heard him laugh. Next thing I knew, I was being pulled onto a stretcher.”

We sat there in silence for a long moment. I was digesting what he told me, and he seemed lost in thought. An alarm on his phone went off, causing me to jump out of my skin.

“Your meeting?” I asked.

“Yes,” he replied.

“Thank you for your time, I promise, I’m not going to tell anyone you told me about this,” I said.

He gave me a short nod and headed to the door, but stopped as he passed the threshold.

“Tell me if you get to the bottom of this, okay?” he requested.

“Yeah,” I answered.