Monday

  Monday’s Child is Fair of Face

  © 2024 Adrian Blue. All Rights Reserved

  Trigger Warnings

  This is a work of fiction. None of the behavior shown in this story is intended to represent a healthy relationship.

  This story contains the following:

  Mass slaughter of humans by MMC, MMC chasing the FMC, threats of various kinds of harm, choking, nonconsensual domination, violence by FMC toward MMC, dubious consent, twisted love (MMC), loss of bodily autonomy, corporate corruption, Mondays.

  Chapter One

  I pulled into the parking spot and turned off my car. I sat there listening to the engine ticking, as I stared at the five-story office building that had been my workplace for nearly seven years. Seven years of waking up at five AM to go to my tiny cubicle in the windowless basement office of Helix Tech. Seven years of my micromanaging, twice divorced boss, and my cubicle mate who was always on the verge of retiring.

  Was it normal to be exhausted before I even clocked in? I sighed and tapped my fingers on the steering wheel. The black polish on my left thumb was chipped and I barely resisted the urge to pick at it. Just get out of the car, Cara. I squeezed the steering wheel hard before I grabbed my purse from the passenger seat and got out.

  It was a long walk from my car to the front door. It always was. Ever since the company added an overnight shift, the closest I had gotten to the front door was six rows away. As I trudged across the parking lot, I could not help noticing how dead it was.

  Usually, there would be night shift workers hurrying to their cars. But today, it was eerily silent. No people rushing to their cars or shouting at each other about sleep. The only sound was the distant hum of the highway and the click of my low heels on the asphalt.

  I glanced around, feeling a prickle of unease run down my spine. Something was not right. Maybe a last-minute meeting? I tightened my grip on my purse strap. If I missed a meeting it would be glaringly obvious that I was late.

  I could already imagine my boss peering over the top of his glasses at me, his smile equal parts condescending and pleased at my discomfort. I quickened my pace. Pulling open the front door revealed an empty lobby. No one lingering to chat. Not even the security guard behind the counter.

  I frowned. Harv was probably on a smoke break. He was perpetually trying to quit. I crossed the lobby to the elevators. The one on the left had a new sign.

  In the seven years I had been in the building, both elevators had never worked at the same time. The sign on the left elevator read "Out of Order" in bold red letters. I sighed and shook my head. On Friday, the right elevator was broken.

  I pressed the call button harder than necessary. It felt like I was all alone in the big, empty building. The outdated, 1980s relic was completely silent and still. I jumped at the loud ding of the elevator. I was creeping myself out over nothing.

  I hurried onto the elevator and pressed the only level below the ground floor. After an alarming clunk, the doors rolled closed and the elevator began to sink. I pulled my phone out of my purse to check the time. I was already almost twenty minutes late. My boss was probably going to write me up.

  As the elevator reached the bottom floor, I pasted a smile on my face and watched the doors open. The expression froze on my face and I stared in confusion. Were they repainting the office? If so, no one had used a drop cloth. Red paint was splashed all over the floor and wall in front of me.

  I stepped off the elevator out of habit, frowning at the mess. Just as the doors closed, the smell hit me. The metallic, unmistakable scent of blood. My heart skipped a beat and I drifted forward to peek through the doorway toward the cubicles. The bland gray carpet was so saturated the blood pooled. My breath hitched as I saw the first body, slumped against the wall with a gaping wound in its chest.

  I stumbled back, my hand flying to my mouth to stifle a scream. There were more bodies, so many that I could not count them all. Some were sprawled on the floor, others leaning against walls, but all of them were drenched in blood. I whirled around to return to the elevator, but a figure was blocking my path.

  He was tall and lean with long silver hair pulled back from his sharply angled face. Despite his hair color, there was not a single age line on his face. He stood in the pool of blood in front of the elevator doors, his three-piece suit so startlingly white it almost glowed in the overhead lights. As I stared, he raised his gaze and golden, cat-like eyes pinned me in place.

  There was nothing obviously scary about him, but the lizard part of my brain was screaming in alarm.

  “What have we here?” he asked.

  The smooth baritone should have been pleasant, but there was a strange echoing quality to it that set my teeth on edge. As I stared at him silently, he began to smile. His lips spread wider and wider until they parted to reveal nightmarish teeth. Long and sharp, made for ripping and tearing. And suddenly, the rest of him began to change.

  His face lengthened and his nose and mouth protruded into a snout. His pale skin darkened to the sickly gray of a corpse and his body contorted. Knees snapped and popped, bending the wrong way as his legs distorted into a sickening, reversed joint. His shoulders hunched forward as his spine curved, giving him the appearance of a hunting animal about to pounce.

  Bony protrusions erupted from his back, forming sharp spines that shredded the pristine fabric of his suit jacket. His hands stretched and contorted, the fingers growing extra knuckles and wicked black talons that scraped against the tile floor. With a slow roll of his body, what remained of his tattered suit fell away to reveal the full horror of him.

  He slowly stood, teasingly running his claws over the ribs visible beneath his skin. It was difficult to believe he had ever looked anything close to human. He cocked his head and my eyes flew to his. The slit pupils were blown wide, as he stared at me with dark amusement.

  His jaws opened to reveal a double row of dagger-like teeth and a long, black tongue. It flicked in my direction, like a snake smelling for prey. I stared at him, frozen in place as my brain tried and failed to understand. The creature’s eyes narrowed and he took a slow step forward.

  "Now then," he purred in that smooth baritone. "Where were we?"

  Chapter Two

  My heart pounded as I raced down the hallway. Above me, the fluorescent lights flickered. The stench of blood filled my lungs with each gasping breath until I felt like I could taste it on my tongue. My low heels thumped on the thin carpet, but I chose speed over stealth. That thing was somewhere behind me.

  I swore I could hear it breathing. My brain screamed at me to hide. To find a deep, dark hole and never come out. That thing was going to kill me if he found me. I could feel it.

  Up ahead, I spotted the door to Human Resources. I pictured the space, five offices off of a central room with dozens of places to tuck myself away. I barreled into the door, only stopping to twist the handle before I slammed it behind me and immediately wanted to scream. There was no lock.

  I began shoving things in front of it. Everything within reach. A shiny black filing cabinet, several chairs, even a lamp and potted plant. If nothing else, I would hear them when they fell. After a moment, I stumbled back from the door. I scanned the room as I caught my breath.

  I had not been to HR since I started, but it was the same as I remembered. A small desk for HR’s receptionist and everything I had used to barricade the door. Several framed photos and documents hung on the wall. HR manager Susan Wilkins' smiling face beamed from her employee photo. Even in a picture, her smile did not reach her eyes.

  As I quietly moved through the office, my mind drifted back to my interview. I was newly graduated and on my own for the first time. My parents had kicked me out of the house two months before, and I had been sleeping on couches. Helix Tech was the only company out of dozens of applications that called back.

  As I sat across from Susan’s plastic smile, I had been too desperate to ask questions. The interview started with the standard questions. Strengths, weaknesses, five-year plan. I had slowly relaxed into the tedium of it. But then things took a turn.

  “Would you consider yourself a curious person, Ms. Martinez?” Susan had asked.

  “Not particularly. I am usually too focused to let my mind wander.” Something about my answer seemed to please her.

  “And a team player, Cara?” Susan pressed. “I can call you Cara, can’t I?”

  “Of course.” I had been far too thankful for the interview to mind the familiarity. “I am definitely a team player,” I had assured her.

  “Wonderful. If you’ll just sign this we can continue the interview.” Susan slid a contract across her glossy desktop. She set a pen beside it and tapped the bottom line with a long, red nail. “Right there.”

  I had scanned the paper, my eyes snagging on a few strange phrases. Forfeits all rights to patents, copyrights, trade secrets, and bodily autonomy to the entity. Accepts responsibility for a percentage of profits related to personal labor and the utilization of said labor by the entity.

  “The entity?” I questioned.

  “Helix Tech,” Susan replied with a sharp tap of her nail. “Sign and date and I can get you your name badge.”

  The phrase bodily autonomy set off alarm bells, and “responsibility for labor utilization by the entity” sounded a lot like taking the blame for what the company decid

ed to do with my work. I chewed on my bottom lip. Everything in me said the contract was bad news, but I had been couch surfing for months and the goodwill of my friends was wearing thin.

  I had forced a smile and signed it. And now, years later, half of my coworkers were dead and a monster was stalking me. Clearly, Helix Tech was into something other than developing software for e-commerce.

  “Where are you hiding, lovely thing?” a disarmingly pleasant voice called down the hallway. “I can smell you, you know.”

  I ducked as if the creature could see me through the wall and raced for the office furthest from the door. I quietly closed and locked the door, before crouching under the desk. I forced myself to breathe. An unfamiliar song drifted down the hallway, hummed in a soothing baritone that grew louder as the creature approached the door.

  “You know, I’ve been trying to pinpoint what your scent reminds me of,” the voice came again. The door to HR rattled.

  A loud crash echoed through the office as my barricade toppled to the floor. I clamped my hands over my mouth, trying to muffle the sound of my panicked breathing. I could hear him moving around the office, still quietly humming.

  "Come out, come out, wherever you are," he called, voice dripping with dark amusement. After a moment of silence, he spoke again just outside the door.

  "Ah, there it is," the creature purred. "Honeysuckle. Sweet and delicate. And beneath it, the tangy scent of fear. Delicious.”

  I squeezed my eyes closed as the door knob turned. The lock caught and the creature let out a low growl.

  “This doesn’t have to be difficult, sweetness.” Claws dragged over the wooden door. “I could make it quick and painless. Snap that lovely little neck of yours.”

  My head turned toward the door and I felt a surge of strength. I did not waste some of the best years of my life working in a cubicle with no natural light for it all to end like this. I silently crawled out from under the desk, keeping one eye on the door as I looked around.

  “Unless you like a little pain,” the monster purred. “I can make it hurt so good, darling.”

  My gaze snagged on a large, glass paperweight in the shape of a pyramid. I snatched it off the cabinet beside the desk and tested the weight. Easily five pounds of solid glass. If I aimed for the creature’s head, I might be able to get around him.

  The door shuddered as the creature slammed against it, the lock straining to hold. I flinched, my heart racing as I gripped the paperweight tighter. I crept to stand behind the door, sticking my foot out to keep the door from slamming into me when it opened. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  I adjusted my grip on the paperweight and raised it above my head just as the door gave out. The door flew open and I leapt forward. I caught a glimpse of the creature’s golden eyes as he whipped his head toward me, but it was too late. I brought the paperweight down with all my strength, aiming for his head. The paperweight made contact with a sickening crunch.

  The monster staggered sideways, momentarily dazed but far from dead. I didn't hesitate. Dropping the paperweight, I bolted for the doorway, my heart pounding in my ears. I heard an enraged roar behind me as I raced down the hallway.

  Chapter Three

  I stumbled to a stop in front of the elevator.

  “No!” I grabbed handfuls of my thick curls, as I stared in impotent fury.

  The doors were dented inwards and the control panel was smashed beyond repair. The creature had made sure I was not leaving that way. I looked back down the hallway toward HR. I had a feeling that little bump on the head was not going to slow him down for long.

  I lurched toward the door to the staircase. Gripping the handle in my sweaty hand, I jerked and nearly pulled my shoulder out of the socket. It did not budge. I stared in confusion. The door was never locked. It was against safety codes.

  I pulled again, but the door remained firmly shut. I swore under my breath and glanced around frantically. My eyes landed on the door across the hall. A small sign proclaimed it the executive copy room. I had never used it, always sticking to the one intended for the shift workers, but the rules did not apply anymore.

  I darted across the hall just as a loud crash and a roar sounded from down the corridor. I tried the handle and could have cried when it turned easily. Slipping inside, I quietly shut the door behind me and leaned against it. A single light over the copy machine in the corner illuminated the room. It was far larger than the staff copy room.

  The entire back wall was filled with black filing cabinets. Stacked on top of them, dozens of white file boxes nearly reached the ceiling. The rest of the room was empty. Not even an extra ream of paper for the copy machine. I frowned and crossed the room to the closest filing cabinet.

  There had to be something useful. I gripped the top drawer of the cabinet and pulled. It did not budge. I sighed. Of course, it was locked.

  I went down the line of filing cabinets quietly testing each top drawer until one suddenly rolled open. Not expecting it, I stumbled backward and the drawer hit the end of its tracks with a loud clunk. I froze. For several long moments, I stood perfectly still listening for any sounds from the hallway. When none came, I slowly relaxed and turned to the open drawer.

  “What the…?”

  I squinted down at the manila files filing the hanging folders. Each one had a white label with a number stamped over in smeared red ink. I pulled the first file from the drawer and opened it. The first page was a photocopy of a document, but every few words were blacked out. Since when did programming lingo need to be redacted?

  The only line completely readable was the title at the top of the page. Project Skoll? It did not sound like any e-commerce website I had ever seen. Was it a new programming software the company was working on? I flipped through the papers in the file, but everything had been redacted.

  I slid the file back into the drawer and quickly flipped through the rest of the hanging folders. Nothing but red ink and black marker. I started to push the drawer back in and paused when I caught sight of the last file in the drawer. The red ink looked fresh, not smeared by dozens of hands, and I could read the word on the stamp. Failed.

  I carefully pushed the drawer back in with shaking hands. What had I gotten myself into? I checked all five drawers of the unlocked filing cabinet, but there was only more of the same. Projects that had failed. Project Hydra. Project Chimera. Project Golem.

  Each drawer was a new project, each drawer going back another year, and all of them failed. I stepped back to look over the wall of filing cabinets. So many failed projects. The sound of the monster’s smooth baritone humming jerked me out of my thoughts, and I looked around frantically.

  There! In the corner opposite the copy machine, a fire extinguisher sat enclosed in a shallow nook behind a glass door. I hurried over to it, grabbed the handle for the door, and yanked. Nothing happened. I jerked again and again, panic starting to choke me as the creature’s voice drew closer.

  I forced myself to take a deep breath and bent down to look closer. A small circle, partially hidden by the handle, had a keyhole. I barely bit back a frustrated scream. There was no time to look for the key. A white sticker in the bottom corner of the door said to break the glass for emergencies.

  The creature's humming grew louder, a hauntingly beautiful melody just outside the door. I shrugged out of my sweater and wrapped it around my hand. It was too late to hope he passed by my hiding spot. I smashed my fist into the window with a wince, but the knitted fabric absorbed most of the impact.

  The glass cracked. Another hit shattered it and I rushed to drop my sweater and reach for the fire extinguisher.

  “What ever are you doing in there, precious?” the monster growled from the hallway. “As much as I am enjoying our little game, I must insist you open this door.”

  I snorted and pulled the fire extinguisher from the wall. He obviously thought I was an idiot. I gripped the top of the extinguisher with one hand and shoved my hair out of my face with the other. All of the running and fear sweat had caused my curls to frizz and double in size. The last thing I needed was that creature getting a handful of my hair.

  “Alright, love,” the creature said in a frighteningly calm voice. “Have it your way.”

 

1 2 3 4