I'm Worried

“I’m worried about Jason,” one said. “He never leaves his office,” said another.

“I don’t think he goes home at night,” they would whisper, voices full of suspicion and concern.

It was just average office gossip... For a while.

Then, the complaint box became full to burst: slip, after slip of bitter irritations etched on red paper,

All of them involving Jason.

He NEVER returns my e-mails!

He hasn’t chipped into ANY of the birthday funds!

He just starts screaming sometimes, and it’s VERY distracting!

I mediated, played devil’s advocate.

“Privacy is important here.” I would remind them, brandishing the employee handbook like a Bible.

“Tolerance is an essential element of our corporate mindset.” I spouted, the phrase devoid of meaning.

Eventually, people weren’t satisfied with my answers. My bureaucratic bulwark reached its limit.

His strange behavior had been ignored long enough.

Stepping into the dimly lit office, I was startled by the oppressive, unnatural atmosphere.

The room was humid, but chills ran down my back. A single lamp emitted a pale firefly glow.

Scattered across the floor were piles of paper, full of various scribbling and sketches.

Picking up a page, I was assaulted with an overwhelming fractal collage of ovals and angles.

Jason sat at his desk, jittering and mumbling. A pen, leaking like an oozing wound, in his grasp.

“Always watching, ever growing,” left his lips repeatedly, a manic mantra.

His hands were shaking, but the markings were steady: forming another ink-born menagerie.

I set a hand on his shoulder, a feeble attempt to cultivate the illusion of comfort.

He spun to face me, I  tumbled to the ground in revulsion.

His eyes are gone.

The hollow sockets have been reduced to grotesque pits of congealed blood, and blackened nerves.

He is smiling: too wide, too hard. His teeth groan from the pressure, ready to crack apart.

Letting out an unsteady giggle, he whispers: “They need more,” pointing an ink stained finger upward.

I crane my head to face the ceiling. My heart is silent in my chest, too stunned to beat.

Above us is a churning sea of unblinking, kaleidoscopic eyes, glimmering with gnashing white teeth.

The eyes drift slowly, constantly shifting in hue. The teeth move in an unpredictable, jerking pattern.

Suddenly, the eyes are staring at me. They turn a crisp blue, with just a hint of green. Just like mine.

The teeth grow outward. Seeping into barbed fangs, as they creep slowly towards me.

I look to the door, now plastered with a jagged enamel coating. My fate, and the exit, is sealed.

I see the teeth grasp my skull, I feel their hooked points sink ever deeper into the corners of my eyes--

I’m worried. But, not about Jason.