Saturday I will post the rest of the chapter which is a lot more exciting I promise. Just wanted to let everyone know that I am actually doing more than raving on twitter about MisFits and complaining about having to watch Toddlers and tiaras with my girlfriend haha. Now it's just an edited 1st draft so it is subject to change but probably not much. Enjoy!
Chapter 2
The ceiling spins above me as my office chair spins beneath me. My hands above my head tossing up a crumpled piece of paper, catching it, tossing it up again, catching it, my chair rotating around and around.
My reflection blinks in and out of the blank computer screen on my desk. Forty-three this year, I think to myself. Still playing with paper wads. On the verge of having no job. Kids can’t stand me. And my wife… Gone.
“Having fun?” A familiar voice asks. “Loads.” I reply, spinning one more time and tossing my makeshift ball at my co-worker and friend who is standing just inside the door to my office.
“Even in the midst of layoffs I can still find you goofing off.” Arthur says to me, chuckling slightly.
I stare at him for a moment, pretty big guy, bigger than me at least. 6’ 2” or so, 6’ 3” at the most, thin but strong. Still has a full head of hair. Wish I could say the same, been slowly but surely losing mine for a year or two now. Getting old does actually suck.
“You ready for lunch, Arthur?” I ask flatly, pretending to be mad. “If not then give me my ball, I am hard at work.” I tell him, a wry smile slowly creeping across my face. Arthur throws the crumpled paper at me and laughs, “Yeah, I’m ready. You are driving today though, my car is in the shop.”
I nod an okay to Arthur and he walks out of my office. Standing up from my office chair, I pat my slacks to make sure my keys are on me and not in my desk. Front pockets, back pockets, front pockets once again. Where the hell are they?
My question is answered as I glance at my desk. Sitting on the keyboard of my computer is my keys. I pick them up, pressing down the space bar as I do, the screen lights up from its sleep. My browser pops on and my home screen loads, a snippet of an article about a run down actress getting a DUI, my stock charts that look like a diagram for a plane crash, some advertisement for male enhancement, and local news clips.
“Come on Daryl. Much longer and that cute young girl that works at the taco shack will be too busy to talk to you.” Arthur calls from outside my office. “Just jealous she doesn’t offer you free salsa, Art!” I call out not taking my eyes off of the screen. One of the local news articles has caught my eye. “Outbreak of Violence.” It reads: “Man goes on a rampage at a high end hotel in the business district of San Jose, killing five and wounding two.” Shit. That’s awful. World of crazy fucks out there…
I close the laptop and grab my jacket off the back of my office chair, putting my arms through the sleeves.
Arthur pokes his head in and looks me up and down, “Yes, Daryl. You look cute enough to be my driver, now lets go.” I can’t help but smile, “Do I need to go tell HR that my boss is sexually harassing me?” “Probably.” Arthur says, smiling. “Now are you coming or not?” “Yeah, I’m coming.” I walk to the door, close it and lock it with my keys. The article about the killer in the hotel swirling around the back of my mind.
I turn away from the door and the empty floor is silent. “Kind of eerie in here now.” Arthur says, seeing the same thing I am. What used to be a large floor full of desks, cubicles, big Xerox machines, bustling assistants, lethargic lower level accountants, young messengers, and mail boys, is now the ghost town equivalent. Only a handful of the cubicle accountants are left, them and their cubicles jammed into the far corner. No more assistants answering phones outside offices like mine. Hell, most of the offices are empty anyway. Can’t be more than a handful of people still working on this floor. All vacated cubicles are piled in a corner next to the stairs waiting for someone to get rid of them. Who that someone is I haven’t a clue.
“Yeah,” I say indifferently as we walk across the office wasteland to the hallway that leads to the reception desk and the elevators.
“Did you hear about the guy that went crazy and killed several people last night?” I ask Arthur as we walk across the floor. “Yeah. Was pretty sick. I saw some photos of the victims and they were mutilated.” Arthur says, lowering his voice as he continues, “He ate them. Seriously! He fucking ATE them. Wasn’t far from here either. It was that nice hotel on First Street and-“ Arthur stops as we come out of the short hallway and into the reception area, his eyes set on the young woman that works the reception counter.
“Hey Kristin.” Arthur says, she’s probably in her early twenties, blonde hair, still enjoys life. “Hi Art,” Kristin says, her eyes big with a smile to match, “Hi, Daryl. Headed out to lunch?” Kristin says in her sweet voice that could light up a room. Pretty sure Arthur hired her for that voice alone.
“Yeah, want us to bring you back anything?” Arthur asks, his business smile on his face. “Would you please? I’m stuck here waiting for the mail guy, he hasn’t shown up today and I'm starving.” Arthur puts his arms on the reception counter and leans forward, “What would you like? Anything you want.” Kristin giggles and I look away towards the elevators, trying not to laugh.
It has never gone farther than flirting, Arthur has talked about taking her out to dinner but never went thought with it. Harmless I guess.
I walk to the elevators to give Arthur his space. Pressing the elevator call button, watching the down elevator slowly make it's slow decline from the top floor to our floor, the lights lighting up one after the other, it is stopping at almost every floor. Shit. Good ol’ lunch rush.
I turn around to watch Arthur, saying his goodbyes to Kristin with a wave and walking over to me with his eyes on the elevator behind me. Kristin watches as he walks away, smiling ear to ear like a schoolgirl.
“Looks like we might get lucky today?” Arthur says, smiling just like Kristin.
“From the look on her face I think you just might.” I reply with a wink, nudging my head in Kristin’s direction. “We are just friends, man. You know that.” Arthur says quietly, not too much assurance in his voice.
“Uh huh.” I grunt, turning around to watch the elevator, it’s coming right up to our floor. Sweet.
The lights indicating what floor the elevator is currently on flash one by one, 21, 22, 23 . . . It stops and the bell rings. I smile at Arthur, both of us relishing in this small office building victory. The up elevator only takes people from the lobby to their desired floor then goes right back down to retrieve more passengers. Might actually make it to see the cute girl at the taco shack after all.
The doors slide open and I turn towards Arthur, “After you, fine sir.” I say, motioning my arms towards the open elevator doors. But Arthur doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t add to my joke. Doesn’t even blink. He just looks into the elevator, absolutely horrified.
I follow Arthur’s gaze quickly, not even slightly prepared for what I see. Oh fuck. So horrified but unable to look away.
Inside the elevator crouches the mail boy, feasting upon a woman in a shredded, blood stained business suit. His head shaking violently as his teeth tear into her chest just above below her collar bone, her eyes jarring up and down as they stare lifelessly up at the ceiling of the elevator.
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