I wasn’t expecting walking around an empty office building afterhours to cause so much anxiety. I was imagining lights flickering, doors creaking open, footsteps behind me, the sounds of cameras zooming in on my position. There was no reason for anything to be there right then, but I couldn’t help but think that I somehow wasn’t alone. Maybe that was part of their security system. Make the fluorescent lights flicker every now and then, and hope that the criminal scum breaking into the building got freaked out, went mad, and ran out of the building empty-handed, screaming bloody murder. Another hour snooping around this place and that’s where I imagined myself to be.
‘Richard Plunder – Chief Executive Officer’. I found the office Christine wanted me to investigate. The door was unlocked, which I found peculiar. I assumed it would be locked, but then again, who exactly was he trying to lock out? The only way to get to the Megalomerate floors was through some secret elevator Christine and I were still unable to find, or by busting through the ventilation system like we did. I opened the door, and was taken aback by the just the sheer size of the office. My shack in Montana could fit snugly in one of the corners. There was a giant cabinet, about the size of my shack that appeared to be used for nothing other than liquor and cigar storage. Come to think of it, ever since Paul had gone, my shack basically stored the same things, so long as you replaced the expensive cigars with cheap cigarettes. The leather on the couches in the office felt like nothing I had ever felt before. It didn’t have that plastic feel that stuck to your skin, and after sitting down on it, it felt like I was floating in a cloud. I wanted to lay down and forget about the little ‘mission’ we were on. Rest my head down, take a nap, and dream it all away.
After I had wasted enough time, I scoured the office for anything we could use to prove what pieces of shit the suits who ran the place were. All of the drawers were locked. They looked like they required not just a key, but a combination, and a fingerprint scan as well. I had just started my reconnaissance, and it looked like I wasn’t going to turn up anything. They had left the door to the office unlocked, yet had triple locks on basically everything else. Even the liquor cabinet over had a lock on it. I grew more and more suspicious.
Thankfully Richard Plunder had left his laptop in the office. I can’t imagine he was taking too much work home with him. He could hire an army of underlings to take care of anything he didn’t see to during in his once a week trip to the office. I didn’t have any evidence to make that assertion, it was all just speculation. Speculation that made me feel a little bit better about my lot in life. If I was going to be miserable all the time, I had to be able to imagine some people out there just had it unfairly better than the rest of us, and that they used their better position in life to oppress everyone beneath them. Who else would I direct my anger to if that wasn’t the case? I directed enough at myself as it was.
I found his laptop logged in and unlocked. All of those locks on the drawers and the guy couldn’t even be bothered to lock his computer while he was away. I’m sure he demanded to have the timeout feature turned off. If the CEO wanted it, he was going to get it, even if it allowed dumb techno-illiterate schmucks like me to break into his system due to his carelessness. Now I had to figure out what the hell it was I was looking for on his computer. First, for a little fun, I opened up his internet browser history.
Before I had the opportunity to do anything, or see what kind of sick shit Richard Plunder got off to, in walked some man in a suit with slicked back hair and a grin on his face that would have made any circus clown envious. I was stricken immobile and speechless from the shock of seeing him. I wasn’t sure what to do next. I figured if I stayed completely still, that maybe he wouldn’t see me. Like I was trying to evade a T-rex. The man cackled quietly as he moved through the office toward me.
“So, this must be the fabled ‘Pete’ I keep hearing about, correct?”
“What’s it to you?”
“Well, Pete, you’ve broken into my office and you’re snooping around on my computer. It’s everything to me that you’re here. It’s confirmation that our plan was executed to absolute perfection.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“We’ve been trying to get a hold of you for a while now, Pete. Now, it would have been easy enough to just send some thug after you, smack you over the back of the head, throw you in the trunk of a car and drive you here, but we wanted to have a little fun. Though, that thug was still sent just in case of failure.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Are you still not getting it? I always forget what it’s like to talk to the commoners. It’s a shame how little education you people receive. It makes the whole experience of interacting with you deplorable. I’d rather speak to a computerized phone operator. It can take all of the fun out of it. I digress; Christine, would you come on in here for me?”
Christine walked in through the door, or at least the woman I recognized as Christine did. She no longer had on the shoddy clothes she was wearing before. Now she was wearing a smart suit, her hair tied back tightly, and had a stern, almost evil look on her face. The dress code of betrayal.
“Nice to see you again, Christine.”
“Yes, Pete, it appears you still do exactly as you’re told. Good job.”
“Yes, I agree with Christine. You have done a very good job Pete. You fell for our little plot to get you here hook, line, and sinker. We’ve been able to keep our hands clean. No violence yet, and no need to involve the authorities. Not like the latter is much of an issue. I can’t think of a single police department in this country that isn’t under our thumb. We only like to use them when absolutely necessary, though. You wouldn’t believe the amount of paperwork that’s required to cover up police corruption. Only certain circumstances really warrant it.”
“I still don’t understand what it is you want with me, Mr. Plunder”
“Please, Pete, with everything I know about you, I feel like we’re close friends. Call me Ricky. Mr. Plunder is what my employees call me. This fine woman you know as Christine has been observing you for quite some time now. We’ve had various people watching you and your friend Paul and his brother before him. You see, you three have all discovered something that we didn’t want to be discovered. You’ve discovered what we’ve been doing to the water in Megalomerate's little Montana operation, and then had the gall to try and find out more.”
“Megalomerate’s operation? I thought it was just the mining companies.”
“Ah yes, thank you for reminding me, Pete. I haven’t introduced the organization I work for very well. Megalomerate is a conglomerate of all the major corporations in these fine United States of America. Every major bank, manufacturing company, retailer, merchandizer, mining, oil, publishing, news, you name it, they all belong to Megalomerate. Considering the amount of ‘creative’ organizations we own you’d think we could think of a better name, but at least it is fitting to what we are.”
“If you guys own everything, why hadn’t I heard of you until I met Christine?”
“Well, thankfully our lobbyists were able to pass through laws that don’t require such disclosure. We can continue operating our sub-corporations as though they are separate organizations, at least as far as the public is concerned. This way we form what is in practice a monopoly, but as far as the law is concerned, we have all these smaller sub-corporations competing with each other. Ha!”
“So, you want me just because I found out about your illegal waste dumping in Montana? Why would you bother with something that is ultimately such a small portion of your operation?”
“Pete, do you really think we’d be in the position we are right now if we just let every ‘small’ issue go unattended? Those small issues add up over time, and if we don’t keep them under control, they’ll bite us in the ass. We were fine with Paul combing over documents by himself in that storage unit. Once we had an indication he wanted to reach out to others with the information, we had to ac
t against him. And then you came and started talking with that snot-nosed brat Pim. Sure, the only people you were reaching out to were internet conspiracy theory nutjobs, but we couldn’t risk it getting out any further. Now you find yourself here, where you’ll never be able to speak out again.”
“So you were behind Paul’s death!”
“Of course we were! I hope you aren’t just now picking up on that for, Pete’s sake! We silenced Paul, we silenced his brother, and now we’re about to silence you. Paul’s a tough, clever man. We didn’t have confidence in conning him like we did you, so unfortunately we had to plan out the ‘accident’ you witnessed. A fire at one of our facilities, he should have seen it coming.”
“You son of a bitch.”
“Please, Pete, you hurt me with words like that. Don’t worry, I understand. This is a stressful time for you. I know you don't really mean those mean words you say to me.”
“What do you plan on doing with me now, you little shitbird?”
“We’re going to take you down to our facilities in the basement, which we’ve affectionately named the ‘Freedom Dungeons’. I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay there. I know I will get enjoyment out of your stay.”
Mr. Plunder turned around and walked out the door. Once he was out of the office, he snapped his fingers and made some sort of gesture I couldn’t comprehend. Then two huge guards in full riot gear walked in and made a beeline for me. The one approaching from my left back handed me across the face, knocking me to the ground. They lifted me up by my shoulders, and handcuffed me. One of them jabbed me in the side with some sort of object, which sent jolts of electricity through my body, causing me to collapse back to the ground screaming in pain. It was an excruciating pain I had never felt before. Well, a pain I had never felt physically before that is. I’m no stranger to emotional pain equally as intense. I felt that emotional pain one more time, as we passed by Christine. She eyed me the whole way out, her cold expression toward me did not waver. I had to do everything I could to keep myself from simultaneously balling my eyes out and screaming in a fit of rage. Whatever they planned on doing to me down in the ‘Freedom Dungeon’, it couldn’t be worse than the betrayal and humiliation I just went through. The whole time Mr. Plunder was speaking, the image of Christine tearing out my heart and slowly devouring it kept running through my head over and over again. Now I guess it was time for me to meet my Maker, down in some corporate dungeon, never be seen again. After they were done with me, I’m sure every record of me would be erased. It would be as though I never existed. Something I had always dreamed of. The reality of it wasn’t quite what I had anticipated.
Chapter 12
As my last form of rebellion, I chose not to walk out with my captors. Instead, they were forced to carry me with my feet dragging on the floor. The minute increase of energy expended on their part was the best I could accomplish given the situation. They had to travel a whole twenty five feet to get to the elevator. Twenty five feet of having to overcome the friction I created by dragging my feet along the floor. I laughed to myself, knowing that I had truly achieved victory over my captors.
We weren’t taking the elevator alone. Mr. Plunder was there waiting for us. As we entered, he gave off another mocking grin toward me. That was the image that would be burned in my mind as the last bit of life was stolen from me. Not necessarily Mr. Plunder grinning at me, but the whole world slyly grinning at me. That was what my life had achieved up to that point. Mockery and shame. My mother birthed me in shame, and now I would die in shame, never able to escape the tortuous circle.
Mr. Plunder turned to me, “I guess this is farewell, Pete. I wish I could have spent some more quality time with you. There is so much more about your feeble mind I’d like to understand. I don’t get much of a chance to interact with you commoners, and when I have to, I absolutely despise it. At least with you, though, we met on my terms, and I’d be able to dismiss you whenever I grew bored of you. You could have been my cute little poor person pet. Alas, it isn’t meant to be. You’ll find the end you’re looking for down in the Freedom Dungeon. Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you, you’ll get to visit your old friend. Your one and only friend, that is.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, you’ll see soon enough. Our last parting gift to you, to completely and utterly break your spirit. Ha! Enjoy it, my friend. We’ve spent a good amount of resources on this special little gift for you. It wasn’t as easy to maintain as we originally anticipated.”
He couldn’t be implying what I thought he was, could he? I was going to meet an ‘old friend’? Surely that only mean Paul. How exactly was I going to be ‘meeting’ him? It had to be some sick twisted joke. I couldn’t wrap my head around it any other way. I thought they must have had Paul’s corpse down there, preserved in a perfect and horrifying state of death. They were going to parade his corpse in front of me as they slowly drained the life from me, one drop of blood at a time. I was wrong before – the last image I would see wouldn’t be the world smiling and mocking me. I would see Mr. Plunder’s shit-eating grin mapped over Paul’s roasted body. The last low blow life was going to land on me, morphing the one thing I learned to love into a symbol for everything I hated, and everything that had ever hated me.
The elevator doors opened. I was in the so-called ‘Freedom Dungeon’. The place looked the part. Just bare cement walls, floors, and ceilings. There wasn’t a single mark on anything. There wasn’t even scuff marks on the floor from peoples’ shoes. I continued my last rebellion and let them drag me across the floor, desperately hoping to leave my mark as they dragged me down the hall. It amounted to nothing. The floor remained spotless. If only I had worn those shoes with the cheap, thick, black rubber soles. Something to have ruined the perfect soullessness of the place.
They dragged me through a series of doors, each one requiring a hand scan of one of the guards. They eventually brought me to a dark room. I was barely able to make out a few narrow doors in the room. Each had a small, sliding window in the middle of the door. The guards dragged me over to one and slid the window open. Inside, I could see a solitary man sitting on the ground. There was no bed or chair in the room. The only feature in the room besides the solid cement floors and walls and ceilings was a tiny hole in the ground in one corner, which I assume was a toilet of sorts. The man was wrapped in bandages, his face turned away from the door. One of the guards banged on the door to try and get his attention. The man turned his face toward me. It was so scarred and covered in bandages I couldn’t make out who it was exactly, but I knew who it was supposed to be. After he saw my face, he began unwrapping some of the bandage on his arm. He held up the bandage, and I could make out the words ‘Save yourself’, written in a brownish red that I can only assume was his dried blood.
I could feel blood rushing toward my head as my pulse and blood pressure rose. A noticeable heat must have radiated from my body. My vision blurred, spots of color were randomly appearing and disappearing. My cone of vision narrowed, focusing on the person I believed to be Paul. I felt my muscles tense, waiting to spring into action. My hands were cuffed, but they had cuffed them in front of me. I closed my eyes, turned my head to the left, and as I opened my eyes I swung both my arms toward the guard on my left. Both of my fists struck him square in the face. The guards were holding onto my arms at the time, but I was still able to swing at the guard as though there was no resistance. The guard to my left fell to the ground after I struck him. The guard on the right stood staring at me in shock, his mouth agape. I kicked him in the stomach, causing him to hunch over. I raised both my hands above my head, and then slammed them down onto the back of his head. He hit the ground with such force that his helmet cracked. He laid there motionless as a pool of blood formed around his face. The guard on my left was now beginning to get back up. I moved toward him fast and struck him again in the face with my fists. I stood over him as he laid on the ground, and moved both of my hands over his head, and pressed my h
andcuffs into his throat. I yanked upwards, feeling the chain of my hand cuffs digging deep into his throat. Blood ran down his neck, the veins around where I was choking him bulged and became discolored. The guard clawed at my hands and cuffs, scratching open more wounds on his neck. I watched the color in his face slowly change from pale white, to red, to a bluish color. He had his mouth open, looking as though he was trying to scream, but he made no noise. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, his hands dropped to the ground. I kept choking him, making sure he would never pose a threat to me again. I released the guard and he slinked to the ground. His throat was concave where I pressed my cuffs against it. I sat there, struggling to breathe myself from the exertion, and watched his chest for any signs of renewed breathing. Nothing.
I searched the guards, found the keys to my cuffs, and freed my hands. I walked back to the cell Paul was being kept in, and looked inside. He was still sitting on the ground, his head leaning back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. I banged on the door to get his attention, but there was no response. I began looking around the room, trying to find anything that could possibly open the cell door. The room looked like it must have been the building’s own server farm or data center. Just row after row of server stacks. A fitting place to have a ‘dungeon’, I guess. In front of the server stacks there were a bunch of computer consoles. All of the consoles in the room had hand print scanners. Even if I was able to figure out which console I needed to use to open the door, I would need one of those guards’ hands to operate it. I walked over to the guard with the broken helmet and attempted to drag him toward the computer consoles. God damn, the guy was heavy. It was going to be one pain in the ass to use his hand to try every console to see which one was which. I looked around the room for an easier solution.
Near the exit, there was a fire extinguisher and a fire axe. I opened the emergency cabinet, and grabbed the axe. I walked back over to the door to Paul’s cell. It looked like it was solid steel. There was no way I was going to break the door down. Maybe I could use the axe to pry it open. It was no use. Pry as I might there was no forcing open the many latches keeping that door shut with my low level of strength. I kept looking around, trying to find something else. Nothing. My gaze went back toward the guard with the broken helmet. He was a pain to drag around, but that wouldn’t be the case if I didn’t have his whole body to deal with. The thought was a bit extreme, but then again, I just choked a man to death. I walked over toward the guard, laid his right arm flat on the ground, raised the axe over my head, and swung down. In one clean blow, I was able to sever the hand from the rest of the body. He must have only been knocked out, as he awoke and began screaming in pain. He clutched his wrist, continuing to scream, and then passed out as blood was pulsating from his wrist. I just stood there, stunned, and watched as the blood stream from his wrist quickly slowed to a trickle. He didn’t pose a threat to me anymore.
Set Me Alight Page 12
