“Hey Kid,” the unit leader called out. “Not so close to the edge. It’s ok kid, you’re doing fine,” the unit leader said as he approached. “Your patrol patterns are solid, your head’s on a swivel, I got no complaints. That was just some friendly advice, keep well clear of cliff edges or sheer drops.”
When the new guy asked why, the unit leader drew in close, and in almost a whisper replied, “In private security circles we call him “The Body Snatcher.” He hides in the tall grass, or hangs from above, or clings from below those ledges, and patiently waits for his victim to patrol near. One moment you’ve got a great job, good career path, loving family, and the next you’re falling to your death, some dumb quip like “Going down?” or “Seeya!” the last thing you ever hear.”
The unit leader left the new guy to his patrol, and walked over to the area commander. “You give the new kid “The Body Snatcher” story,” he asked, smiling. “Oh yeah, he’s good and spooked,” the unit leader replied, laughing.
They laughed so hard, they didn’t notice that the new guy was no longer there, or heard the faint words “Going down?” echo off the cliff walls.