Have You Seen My Stapler?

Have You Seen My Stapler?

By: Michael T. Flanders

     The beast waited in the darkness, sending frigid splinters up Howard’s spine. It’d been lurking there for hours, watching, waiting, keeping him pinned in the corner; the only remaining refuge of light in the room. Often he’d find himself in absolute silence, and he remained hopeful that the creature had sunk back into the obsidian pool it resonated from. To his dismay, however, it would remind him of its presence just as soon as he’d muster the courage to attempt flight. A low growl, the sound of its heavy breathing, an occasional clank of some unknown office equipment hitting the floor; the monster was toying with him. It wanted him to run into the darkness, but he wouldn’t give it the satisfaction, not as long as the red emergency bulb above him held true. 

     A sliver of light pierced the dark blanket before him as the door to his office crept open. Joe, the newest intern, popped his head in. “Hey Howard, Legal wants to know if you have those- Argh! Waa! Ugg! No!” The man tried to scream even after his throat was ripped out, letting loose a wet squeak before the beast finally ended him with a loud crunch. Howard didn’t know him that well, but even through his fear he couldn’t help to think that was one hell of a way to end an internship.

     The beast worked on Joe’s corpse, filling the hushed office with noises of gore and terror as skin was stripped from muscle, then muscle from bone. It would toss scraps into the light, small chunks of intern splattering around Howard’s huddled person. Rips and tears grew more frantic, the creature becoming enthralled with its meal, until finally an inhumane shriek bounced off the cheap drywall and a grotesque pop caused Howard to flinch in disgust. Something’s been pulled off, he thought. A flurry of movement came from the darkness, cementing Howard’s despair as Joe’s severed head land squarely in his lap. The office manager couldn’t contain his fright and screamed. It wasn’t planned, he didn’t think someone would come in and save him, but he couldn’t stop. He sat in his beacon of salvation, speckled in blood, screaming to no end.  It wasn’t until moments later that an amused snarl quieted his impulse to jump from his own skin.

     “Howard, don’t you know interoffice relationships are frowned upon,” hissed the creature. “Especially when it’s, what’s the slang term, ‘getting head’?”

     Howard’s dentures bounced atop the few remaining teeth he had left, a falsified chattering being his only answer to the monster’s pun. He looked to the dismembered remains of Joe in his lap and found only flashes of himself instead. Patchy, aged hair, wrinkles upon wrinkles, a grey tinge to his faded pink tone; there was no hint Joe even existed here, it was only a mirror of what was to come. His heart began to flutter with panic and he started to scream once more, but this time with the purpose of drawing attention. Countless people may die coming to his rescue, yet he didn’t care, he wanted out of this nightmare… at any cost.

     “Oh would you shut up,” shouted the beast in the darkness as it shot a tentacle towards the office manager. “You’re giving me a headache!” A quick slash marked Howard’s cheek, but that was all. The tentacle retreated into its black solace before doing more harm, but appeared to be damaged as the light touched its…scales. Were those scales? His gag reflex kicked in, propelled by the idea of the creature’s sharp, slimy touch and the smell of its light-inflicted wound. He choked down gratuitous amounts of bile, attempting to keep his breakfast burrito from escaping its forced residence in his stomach. It was almost a success too, until Joe’s stump proceeded to bleed out in his lap. The vomit came vigorously onto the severed head, draining Howard’s insides of anything relating to sustenance, and it continued well into his body becoming empty, transforming into a violent dry-heave.

     The beast’s amused snarl rang out again, refusing the idea of giving him even a moment of a reprieve in this corner office of Hell. His torment was its entertainment, and the thing showed no signs of mercy being built into its system. Snarl after snarl turned into laughter followed by more laughter, the creature somehow transforming its tone from beastly to human. What Howard could only image as wet slops hit the floor with a slick whistle, sliding across cheap tile into overturned furniture. A moment or so passed and a light suddenly flicked on in the distance. Just as soon as it was born life, however, it soon perished at the push of a button. This happened for awhile, a red-coated fingernail playing with the switch of a desk lamp near where Howard’s desk rested. Finally the light went off, followed by footsteps heading towards the door.

     “Now what did we learn, Howard?” a sultry female voice asked.

     Bits of regurgitated egg clung to Howard’s lips and chin, remnants of food he’d eaten earlier in the morning. “Not to take your coffee mug without asking.” A click sounded and the room was instantly filled with fluorescent relief.

     “Good boy.” said the woman, a nude blonde of heavenly features, save for the black-tinted ooze that appeared to trail from her shoulders all the way to a monstrous husk in the middle of the room. “Now clean up and get back to work, I think Legal needs you for something.” She opened the door and walked out, exiting without so much as to acknowledge the apocalypse that was Howard’s office. Glass was scattered over miscellaneous papers and broken machinery, fixtures in the ceiling dangled from vicarious wires, flayed remains of Joe painted the colorless drywall. Howard drunk in the sight and responded with a delay, “Right away, Lilith.”

     He really hated Mondays at Morning Star Industries.