Dead ends, chapter 2. (Patreon)

So here we are again. Peak spooky season, and another chapter of a new limited run thing, just in time. Please enjoy, and feel free to tell me if it sucks. 

....

The shadows were lengthening... the sun was setting behind me. I stood up and lunged up, bending in as many directions as I could to crack my back. This time it worked; some days it didn't. I took that as a good sign and logged my computer out. Just in case, I didn't want some janitor looking over the sensitive files I had to work on.

I didn't want to look at them either, I could at least spare the curious.

People who didn't know any better thought my job was more glamorous; the people who knew wouldn't touch it for twice the money I was getting. Knowing what I knew now, only the benefits were keeping me here. I mean it was hard to beat ninety percent coverage insurance with a five hundred deductible in today's job market.

I hadn't needed it for anything yet, but I was sure I'd use it at least once by the time I hit forty.

It was five-thirty... so it was knock-off time. If I didn't want to do overtime at least, and today I didn't. Call it the Monday blues, or something. Most of us burned the midnight oil, at least if we wanted to advance. The interns and newbies left when they were supposed to. It was one of the differences really; the partners could tell you were ready when you made the choice to stay yourself.

Despite the staggering amount of quarterly reports I needed to go through, I just wasn't feeling it today. The Monday blues for sure.

The halls were dark; the lights turned themselves off after hours to save the firm money. The air conditioning and heating also scaled back, but I couldn't feel the difference yet. By eight in wintertime my office could get downright chilly.

The height of summer, a few hours from now, and I could treat my personal domain as a sauna and get great results. What the west-facing windows started, the fact that my office was above the server farm finished. At least, that was what the I.T. department told me.

The halls were also empty; I hadn't been alone in my blues, it seemed. Only two offices were lit, and one was the president's. He didn't count, he was always here.

The locks engaged behind me, which was normal. I checked them, which was also normal. The elevators were green just down the hall.

They'd moved by the time I got there of course. I should just take the stairs... but taking fifty flights of stairs was something young people did, and I was fine with my gut growing at this point. Just so long as my hair stayed put. So far, so good on that front.

The elevator finally came back... empty, of course. I got in and hit 1.

The thing didn't stop, it went straight down. Unusual, but today was shaping up to be a strange day. no one at all riding down with me from the other offices meant a sort of sweet spot; I was too late to ride with the people that left on time, and early for those who no-lifed it like I normally did.

The elevator opened, and there, just before me, was Heather, so I hadn't missed everyone after all.

Heather was a tall blonde with a classic look, and she worked as a secretary in one of the offices above ours; I hadn't worked up the nerve to ask yet. Still, we'd exchanged greetings, and my busy eyes caught the distinct lack of a wedding ring, same as last week. There was still a chance.

"Good evening, Heather."

She slowed and turned, but did not stop. "Good evening, Bill. How goes the world of spreadsheets?"

"Boring, so I'm knocking off early. How goes the fast paced life of the secretary?"

She stopped for that one, in order to show me her rolling eyes. "Just as fast paced as ever, which is why I'm late."

"Right, I won't keep you then, have fun with whatever." She wouldn't think favorably of my if I tried to talk her ear off and made her late.

"Just a meet up with the girls. Not really a night out, but a few hours to unwind." Heather replied, tucking her very blonde hair behind said ear in a rather endearing way.

A girl's night out... This was my chance, clearly, but should I? Wouldn't they all feel the addition of a man was an intrusion? Even one as amazing as I?

I waited too long, and the mood, the chance, was gone. Heather strode out of easy speaking range on her wonderfully long legs, and I didn't want to appear desperate by almost running to catch up. One had to be careful about these things.

There would be other opportunities.

Heather took a left, toward the parking garage, and I took my customary right to the subway. I had a car, but there was no point in using it here; the office was very close to the station, and the subway ran right past my apartment. I did not envy Heather having to drive through this bumper to bumper traffic everyday; I saved so much money on gas and parking, not to mention wear and tear on my car itself.

It meant I'd be able to buy a house a few years faster. I was so close now, even given how expensive things were here. A nice two-story in the burbs to set up home in, and stock with all the best. The best beer, the best booze, a nice pool table... a wonderful wife, maybe from California.

I followed the crowd across the crosswalk, there was still a health crowd. One hand on my wallet of course; the briefcase was mostly for show, and my phone was buttoned up tight in my inner pocket.

The crowd was following me as much as I was following it; to the subway, where our foul smelling and hopefully not as stained as it was last week ride awaited us. I could put up with quite a bit to save money.

Still, twenty minutes smelling pee and unwashed body was fairly annoying. Almost enough to make me want to drag out the car, sometimes.

Something was wrong with me today; I was complaining an awful lot about the little annoyances of life, even in my own head. I needed to focus on the positive.

I pulled my phone out and used the digital card to open the turnstile, barely slowing down. Even so I was almost run over by the younger folk behind me, all crazy looking and loud teens.

Some were in uniforms, so they couldn't be truly wild... working in the restaurants and other places serving the businesses here, no doubt. They could work as hard as any of us, but with far less chance of career advancement.

Unless they were going to college of course, I shouldn't assume.

Still, they were rowdy, and I let them get onto the train before me; no sense risking getting shoved anywhere dangerous.

It took awhile; the train was about to close up and move before I could amble in, which meant standing room only. That was fine, since I didn't want to risk the seats being filled with something I couldn't get out of my suit. It wasn't the best suit in the world, but it was mine.

The car was just as noisy, vibrant, and smelly as I'd expected. Luckily I didn't have to endure it for long. At the first stop a few people got off and about twice as many got on; we were almost at full capacity with no hand rails left.

The next stop was mine, and as the train slowed down I gave up my place. the door opened and I was ready, bolting out before those wanting to get on the train could block me, the standard subway rider's trick.

A few also got off here, but this wasn't really a popular spot. Just a bit too rundown, a bit too inner city for the people I worked with and those who worked for those I worked with. Anything to save fore that house; I could play the long game.

Still it was odd. No one was getting on the train from here. There was no one in the station, save those of us who had just disembarked.

The station was empty, and dim. Several of the large halogen lights were out. Far more than their should be, even for this station. I knew the custodian here, and he took care of the place, at least as much as he could with the funding he got. The same kind of universal complaint you could find anywhere, from anyone.

I wasn't the only one creeped out by this, it seemed. Everyone was moving just a bit quicker, and eyes were darting just as much as my own. It was a straight shot to the staircase and outside, away from the prickle along my back and the strange feeling of oppression; something was wrong, something more than the lights, but what? What was it?

That was it; the employees only door was open, just slightly. Just enough to be noticed, if you were paying attention... and enough to care, if you knew the custodian. My fellow former passengers either didn't notice or didn't care. After all, the stairs were right there, and it wasn't their problem. There was probably a perfectly good explanation for it, after all.

No, I'd be a little more late than I thought, tonight. If I had a heart attack or a work accident, I'd want someone to find me. So it was time to do a little criminal entering and see if something had happened to my buddy. Hopefully he just forgot to lock the door and would yell at me, then I'd bring him a beer and we'd be all good again. If the city wanted to throw the book at me, I was pretty sure I could talk my way out of it - it would just be an incredible annoyance.

Kind of like that time I had jury duty. What a mess that was.

The room beyond the door was dark. I nudged the door open with a toe. Save for the little light spilling in from the doorway itself, it was pitch black. What little I could see looked to be a fairly standard office if you were a mechanic; I could see both racks of tools and a white door marked 'broom closet' in yellow paint. The floor I could see was a little grimy, and the place looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years, which was a little ironic.

There was no sign of my buddy from here, which meant I needed to find the light switch. Not enough evidence to maybe call those others back for help, and each moment those people got farther away.

My hands fumbled along the walls. The light switch was set a bit lower than I'd expected, and I missed it once before figuring out the problem. The switch snapped to the on position, a loud noise in the darkness, and the overhead lights sluggishly hummed to life; long fluorescents, bare of any covers, that only old installations had anymore.

No, it wasn't multiple, only one of the bulbs lit up, out of three. The middle bulb brightened as much as it was able, which was barely enough to show me the room, while the other two bulbs in the fixture stayed dark.

Just the sort of thing a janitor would fix first, especially in his own office.

The room revealed was much like I'd seen from the light in the door, only more dirty than I suspected. There was something unusual so far; the pens. There was a cup of pens, much as anyone has on their desk; pens from banks, from bars, from insurance companies. It was normal in this city to pick up pens, and I had a similar cup in my office. Some of those were even pens from the company I worked for, to give out to whoever wanted one.

Only these pens were on the floor - and so was the battered metal cup.

Nothing else was out of place, unless maybe the rather comfortable and old-looking office chair, which was against the wall and well away from the desk. However, that simple set of small items was enough. Anyone who dropped their cup of pens would surely pick it up if they were able; you could never tell when you needed a good pen, and you didn't want to have to hunt for them on the floor.

The light also showed me another door, one set in the far corner of the room, away from the door. The door was painted a color near to that of the walls around it, and set with a dark knob. The same yellow paint only much more cracked and dull, marked this door as "Maintenance only; keep out."

That was probably where I needed to go.

There wasn't a flashlight within easy notice; did I need one?

I opened the door, and of course the space beyond was dark; even darker than the office had been before I flicked the light on. The space beyond the light of the door was pitch black, in the way that only places underground could be.

I shut the door again and took a second look fro a flashlight. There turned out to be one in the lowest right desk drawer, a brand new one free of grease and dirt in the way only new things could be, an LED light that could blind someone if directed at them.

I grabbed it. petty theft was the least of what I could get accused of, now. The click of the button was even louder in the dark than the snap of the light switch in the previous room had been; it was funny how that worked. Was it actually true, or just my mind messing with me?

The room was larger, but more bare... with shelves on either side making a hallway of the space. I could see more shelves to either side in stark detail with the borrowed light, and it all looked like parts and other supplies. Some of which might be for the trains themselves....

I didn't really know, most were in dusty boxes, but what else could all this stuff be for? The coffee shop set down here that closed at five? Surely that giant box was not full of one hundred percent pure Columbian or french vanilla.

Still, there was nothing living nearby. No guy to yell at me for being back here and shoo me out of the place. I wasn't going to do the stupid thing and call out; I'd stay quiet and see what was what before all else.

The light switch clicked softly, but did nothing. I tried it again another few times to make sure, but it didn't seem to be catching.

Even the soft sound was loud in the dark; loud enough to be heard, or it should be. I was stuck inspecting a space where anyone or anything could be lurking, and lying in wait for me.

My imagination was clearly getting the better of me. I was sure we'd both be laughing about this later, while my buddy contemplated turning me in to the authorities for prosecution. All over a beer of course, we weren't savages. I'd draw the line at drinking that domestic swill most guys drank... or the commercials wanted me to think most guys drank. Who fell for the marketing scheme there? Not me.

Nothing back along that shelf, and nothing back along that one. Where was he? Had I missed him cleaning something along the tunnels, or doing something else? Had he knocked off early and just forgot to close or lock the door?

No. Everything in me screamed no, that was not what had happened here. But I didn't see anything. Nothing as far as the eye could see but shelves, boxes, and dust.

Still, if it was me... I'd want whoever was looking for me to keep going. So I kept going.

The room was empty of life. All this effort, all this worrying, for nothing.

But the room wasn't empty of all signs of life; there, the bright light shined on what looked for all the world to be blood. Blood or dark red paint... no, it felt like blood and smelled like iron. There would be no nervous laughter here, no dismissal of my concerns. There was enough here to show that someone had done more than simply cut themselves or fallen.

There was a trail of drips that led back the way I'd come... toward the door. I'd missed a bit of the party, it seemed. Back to the office, I cracked the door; nothing there.

But there was one place I hadn't checked.

The broom closet was closed, and there were no droplets leading to it. There were no droplets in the office at all, which was very suspicious. It didn't look like the floor had been cleaned, but then the only other option was the blood had been left there on purpose - which was even weirder than my first thought.

There was nothing for it; this closet wasn't going to check itself. I grabbed the knob, and it turned easily; it wasn't locked.

Throwing it open revealed cleaning supplies stacked haphazardly in the small space - and on top of all of it, clearly thrown there as if he was trash, was my buddy. I couldn't recall the man's name, but that wasn't important right now. What was important is the duct tape over the man's mouth, and the duct tape and rope looped all over, holding his hands and feet drawn back behind him as he desperately struggled. His head was bloody, and his movements sluggish.

Then of course, his eyes widened, shifting past mine, and his frantic movements became even faster.

Right on cue... I rounded to find a hooded figure taller than I and every bit as thin as I, already grabbing for me. His face was shrouded....

I woke up, still in the cage, now certain of what had happened. Did anyone find the janitor? He wasn't here. Had my assailant killed him? I'd had to have been drugged, and I was fairly certain no one had seen the attack or I'd have already been rescued.

Quite a feat considering all the cameras around; had we retreated somewhere into the subway itself? I couldn't hear any trains from here, and the place certainly did have the look of a hospital, but I was missing something here. There were cameras all along the subway, and even along the street. How had that been bypassed?

One of the non-responsive women across from me was gone. Everyone else was asleep. I settled in to wait.