Choose Your Own Life, page 14

 

The elevator is moving again as you tidy yourselves up. It comes to a halt and you run your fingers over your head in an effort to smooth your sex-hair. The door slides open and you straighten yourself out.

“It’s the first door on the left,” your new lover says. “My father will meet you there.”

“Thanks,” you say, stepping out. “For everything.”

You feel a small pinch on your buttocks.

“Oh you’re welcome sweetie. I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other!”

You smile and head down the hallway. You hear the elevator close behind you. You reach the first door on the left and walk in. The room is dark, but you see Mr. Morris is already there, illuminated in the doorway. He gives you a knowing look.

“How was your elevator ride?” he asks. “Did my wonderful offspring tell you all about the… perks… of senior management?”

“Oh yes indeed,” you say, a sly grin on your face. “I think I am going to enjoy working here.”

“Good, good,” Mr. Morris says. “Now, let’s get down to business.”

He indicates for you to shut the door. You do so, throwing the room into almost total blackness. You can barely see him as he paces in front of you. He takes a deep breath, then speaks.

“Now, obviously we selected you for this position because you are the best of the brightest. You and I both know how hard you’ve worked to earn this, and there is no debating that you more than qualify. However, I must ask one more thing of you. You see, upper management requires something else: Loyalty. To a degree which is simply not found in those beneath us.”

He reaches his hand out and flicks a switch. A light comes on in the room, a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Sitting below it is an Asian man in a black suit, gagged and tied to a wooden chair. A streak of blood cakes the side of his face. He looks around frantically, glaring and hissing at Mr. Morris. And then his eyes land on you.

Morris continues. “Mr. Yoritomo here thinks he can put us out of business from oversees. Well it turns out we’re a little bit tougher than he expected, aren’t we?”

Mr. Yoritomo growls something at him from behind his gag. Out of the darkness, Mr. Morris produces a sparkling silver handgun. He puts it in your hand, closing your fingers around it. Yoritomo’s eyes grow wide.

Mr. Morris looks at you. “Here is your test of loyalty. Prove yourself to be integral to the betterment of this company.” He stands back.

You stare at Mr. Morris. Then your gaze shifts to the bound man in the chair. Yritomo shakes his head vigorously, his eyes pleading with you. You place the gun to his forehead. You feel a strange sense of relaxation, as if a knot in your stomach you had never noticed before has suddenly been untied.

You get a brief sense that you should think about this. Don’t you have options? Isn’t there a choice to be made here? Then all that floats away.

You pull the trigger.

You stagger back as blood hits you. Mr. Yoritomo tips over in his chair, his head splattered across the tile. Thoughts trip over themselves in your mind. Mr. Morris takes the gun from you, wiping it off. He smiles at you.

“Congratulations,” he says, shaking your hand. “Welcome to Senior Management. We’ll get this all cleaned up. Take the rest of the day off. You’ve more than earned it.”

You walk away without a word. You are in a daze. You step into the elevator, your mind disconnected from the movements of your body.

You turn as Mr. Morris calls after you, “Oh, and we’ll be certain to get your name on a parking spot before tomorrow! Front row! Only the best!”

The elevator doors bulldoze his glittering smile.

You make it out of the building, but do not go to your car. You wander aimlessly, uncertain of how to process things. What the hell happened back there?! You just killed a man, and you didn’t even stop to consider it! Something is very wrong here. Something you can’t quite put your finger on. You feel a cold shiver run through your body. Why didn’t you get a choice? It was like you were on autopilot. Like you had no control of yourself.

 

Maybe you don’t. Turn to page 224.