Mystic Elevator
Fourth up. -or- The logical choice.
Starting at the bottom, you count four up and press the button.
You stand there patiently, waiting for something to happen, but you feel nothing move. There is no slight feeling of the elevator lifting, no loss of balance, and no sounds. After a few seconds you curse aloud and begin walking towards the elevator doors. But before you reach them, a bell dings.
The doors slide open before you and you see your destination, the familiar carpeting and wall paper of the floor you work on. This is where you were headed, but the point of arrival is odd. It's a small room, little more than a closet really, lit from above by a single florescent light.
You open the door and step out, walking into some strange corner of the break room. You glance at the clock. You are still at work five minutes early.
A colleague of yours calls out to you as he gets a soft drink from the vending machine.
"Where the hell did you come from?" He asked.
"Downstairs," you reply with a smile as you continue past him and out into the office. You've never been sure what the guys name is, but something about him creeps you out a bit more than usual today.
You reach your cubicle and sit down in front of your computer, turning it on and logging in. You start to sort through the huge mass of papers on your desk left over from the weekend crew.
A boss of yours stops by with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. You have several supervisors, and this particular man is named Tod. He is somewhat bald, overweight, and very demanding. You're not exactly fond of the guy. No one is.
"Here on time today, eh?" He asks.
"I am," you say with an air of defiance. "Even with the elevators out."
"Impressive," he says. He puts the coffee cup up to his face slowly, and before it quite reaches his mouth you are certain that you see his tongue dart out uncannily like a lizard and take a sip of the coffee. He sighs comfortably and taps the wall of your cubicle twice before walking off to harass the stragglers.
You shake your head a bit in order to clear it, but you can't seem to shake the image of that lizard tongue darting out into the coffee mug. You've always thought Tod was a bit of a snake, but this is something else entirely.
Maybe you're still a little drunk. Or maybe this is some kind of strange flashback from that time you did acid. You only tried it the one time, but you've heard that there are supposed to be flashbacks for people who do that stuff, little things like the walls moving or accentuated colors. At any rate, a man with a lizard tongue should qualify as a hallucination.
Having turned on the computer some time ago, the ancient box of circuits is almost booted up and ready for you. A few of your colleagues come by laughing, they stand at the wall of your cubicle, looking down at you from above. They seem startled at first and then quickly recover, grinning sinister little grins.
"Good morning," one of them says.
"Mornin'," You reply. The computer finally boots up and you log in for the day.
"When did you get back?"the one named Michael asks.
You look at him, puzzled. "I was here all last week," you respond.
Two of them exchange worried glances, while the other smiles merrily and welcomes you.. "Well," he says, "it's good to have you back." His name is Berry, a cheerful bear of a man. He walks off after giving you that stupid salute thing that he does with his middle finger.
The other two laugh a little. "Yes," Michael says, his cold grey eyes laced with malice. "It is good to have you back." He laughs more, almost evilly, and walks off to his desk. Michael and you have never really got along.
The last guy, Jim, says nothing to you, but his eyes tell so much more. He appears to be very worried and confused, a false grin twitching nervously on his face. He nods his head in your direction and walks off toward his station.
Strange visit, you say to yourself. You shake your head and get to work. Sifting through your e-mail it seems you are more than a little behind. You're about two days behind on work. To the best of your knowledge you were caught up with everything on Friday.
You wonder briefly how much of your sanity you've lost. This is not just another Monday morning, for damn sure.
The minutes turn to hours and pass by surprisingly fast, likely due to the workload that you are so deep into. Some people try to talk to you, but you blatantly ignore them. There is no time for anyone else. You find yourself working well past your break and end up taking it quite late.
The break room is empty, five bare tables and twenty empty seats. You make your way over to the faint but welcome glow of the carousal vending machine, commonly referred to as The Wheel of Death. (There are sometimes sandwiches in there that are decent. If there's no sandwiches then you normally go for the burritos, which are surprisingly some of the safer choices.)
You start the wheel spinning with the push of a button. Many of the items inside are questionable, but you eventually settle on a burrito. You put the money in, but the machine just spits it back out. It happens over and over while you attempt to feed the machine your paper money. You switch to change and barely manage to put enough in the machine. You slide open the door and pull out your prize, taking it over to the microwave and heating it up.
After you eat the burrito, you leave the break room and head for the restroom. You walk past one of your bosses' offices on your way and hear an argument from inside. Their voices are raised, but you can't quite make out the words. You reach the restroom, piss, shake, wash, and leave.
The argument in the office hasn't stopped, and you are almost certain you hear your name mentioned. Maybe not, though. You tend to get kind of paranoid whenever office doors are closed and voices are raised.
You glance at the clock and see that you have a good ten minutes left on your lunch break.
Starting at the bottom, you count four up and press the button.
You stand there patiently, waiting for something to happen, but you feel nothing move. There is no slight feeling of the elevator lifting, no loss of balance, and no sounds. After a few seconds you curse aloud and begin walking towards the elevator doors. But before you reach them, a bell dings.
The doors slide open before you and you see your destination, the familiar carpeting and wall paper of the floor you work on. This is where you were headed, but the point of arrival is odd. It's a small room, little more than a closet really, lit from above by a single florescent light.
You open the door and step out, walking into some strange corner of the break room. You glance at the clock. You are still at work five minutes early.
A colleague of yours calls out to you as he gets a soft drink from the vending machine.
"Where the hell did you come from?" He asked.
"Downstairs," you reply with a smile as you continue past him and out into the office. You've never been sure what the guys name is, but something about him creeps you out a bit more than usual today.
You reach your cubicle and sit down in front of your computer, turning it on and logging in. You start to sort through the huge mass of papers on your desk left over from the weekend crew.
A boss of yours stops by with a steaming cup of coffee in hand. You have several supervisors, and this particular man is named Tod. He is somewhat bald, overweight, and very demanding. You're not exactly fond of the guy. No one is.
"Here on time today, eh?" He asks.
"I am," you say with an air of defiance. "Even with the elevators out."
"Impressive," he says. He puts the coffee cup up to his face slowly, and before it quite reaches his mouth you are certain that you see his tongue dart out uncannily like a lizard and take a sip of the coffee. He sighs comfortably and taps the wall of your cubicle twice before walking off to harass the stragglers.
You shake your head a bit in order to clear it, but you can't seem to shake the image of that lizard tongue darting out into the coffee mug. You've always thought Tod was a bit of a snake, but this is something else entirely.
Maybe you're still a little drunk. Or maybe this is some kind of strange flashback from that time you did acid. You only tried it the one time, but you've heard that there are supposed to be flashbacks for people who do that stuff, little things like the walls moving or accentuated colors. At any rate, a man with a lizard tongue should qualify as a hallucination.
Having turned on the computer some time ago, the ancient box of circuits is almost booted up and ready for you. A few of your colleagues come by laughing, they stand at the wall of your cubicle, looking down at you from above. They seem startled at first and then quickly recover, grinning sinister little grins.
"Good morning," one of them says.
"Mornin'," You reply. The computer finally boots up and you log in for the day.
"When did you get back?"the one named Michael asks.
You look at him, puzzled. "I was here all last week," you respond.
Two of them exchange worried glances, while the other smiles merrily and welcomes you.. "Well," he says, "it's good to have you back." His name is Berry, a cheerful bear of a man. He walks off after giving you that stupid salute thing that he does with his middle finger.
The other two laugh a little. "Yes," Michael says, his cold grey eyes laced with malice. "It is good to have you back." He laughs more, almost evilly, and walks off to his desk. Michael and you have never really got along.
The last guy, Jim, says nothing to you, but his eyes tell so much more. He appears to be very worried and confused, a false grin twitching nervously on his face. He nods his head in your direction and walks off toward his station.
Strange visit, you say to yourself. You shake your head and get to work. Sifting through your e-mail it seems you are more than a little behind. You're about two days behind on work. To the best of your knowledge you were caught up with everything on Friday.
You wonder briefly how much of your sanity you've lost. This is not just another Monday morning, for damn sure.
The minutes turn to hours and pass by surprisingly fast, likely due to the workload that you are so deep into. Some people try to talk to you, but you blatantly ignore them. There is no time for anyone else. You find yourself working well past your break and end up taking it quite late.
The break room is empty, five bare tables and twenty empty seats. You make your way over to the faint but welcome glow of the carousal vending machine, commonly referred to as The Wheel of Death. (There are sometimes sandwiches in there that are decent. If there's no sandwiches then you normally go for the burritos, which are surprisingly some of the safer choices.)
You start the wheel spinning with the push of a button. Many of the items inside are questionable, but you eventually settle on a burrito. You put the money in, but the machine just spits it back out. It happens over and over while you attempt to feed the machine your paper money. You switch to change and barely manage to put enough in the machine. You slide open the door and pull out your prize, taking it over to the microwave and heating it up.
After you eat the burrito, you leave the break room and head for the restroom. You walk past one of your bosses' offices on your way and hear an argument from inside. Their voices are raised, but you can't quite make out the words. You reach the restroom, piss, shake, wash, and leave.
The argument in the office hasn't stopped, and you are almost certain you hear your name mentioned. Maybe not, though. You tend to get kind of paranoid whenever office doors are closed and voices are raised.
You glance at the clock and see that you have a good ten minutes left on your lunch break.