Here Be Monsters - By M T Murphy Page 0,3

appreciate that,” she said.

A moment of awkward silence passed. Lucifera glanced into the elevator behind him. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Great. Never better. You?”

“I am well.” She was still smiling, but a look of concern had crept into her eyes. “Are you sure you’re all right? Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

My friend is a psychopathic dope fiend and gambling addict who is planning to blackmail you. Also, he’s armed and I’m pretty sure he downloaded a gigabyte of x-rated videos on my company computer.

“Uh…no.” He realized he had been blocking her path to the elevator and she was waiting on him to move, so he quickly stepped out of the way and held the door for her. “Sorry.”

“No apology needed,” she said. The doors started to close, but this time, she stopped them. “Tim, if you ever want to talk, feel free to stop by my office on the thirteenth floor. The code is six, six, six. I know it is rather silly. Security is somewhat lax here on the inside, but that is why we only hire people we know we can trust.”

“Yeah, trust,” he said, twisting his face into an approximation of a smile. “See you later.”

“Goodbye,” she said.

Tim took a deep breath to keep from trembling and made his way to the company café. Thankfully, it stayed open twenty-four hours a day to accommodate the company’s sometimes grueling work schedule. Grabbing a sandwich from the cooler, he took a seat two tables away from a man and woman he vaguely recognized from the logistics department. They were in their early thirties and were part of the lucky group that was able to get away with wearing polo shirts while everyone else was stuck in business suits. From their posture, it was fairly obvious that the man was very attracted to his khaki-skirt-wearing coworker while she barely knew he existed. Tim knew the scene well. He had played the part of the harmless, sexless guy-friend more than once.

Tim wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, but the woman was speaking loud enough that he didn’t have much choice. She was relating the story of her sick mother who had been on the verge of losing their family home just weeks earlier. The poor job market and mounting medical bills had drained their finances to the point where foreclosure was imminent. Tim strongly suspected the woman’s coworker was feigning interest in her family while biding his time to change the subject to a sexier topic.

The ending of the story caught Tim’s attention. The woman had related her mother’s plight to someone in the human resources department. Within a week, the company had purchased the house from the bank and worked out a modified payment plan that would allow her and her mother to buy the home at a fraction of the cost. Earlier in the day, the woman had received a personal note from the CEO thanking her for her loyal service and wishing her mother well. It was almost too good to be true.

Tim wondered if that might work for Barry. He was a damn good accountant, after all. They had no idea that he was anything other than a loyal employee at the moment. The thought of betraying his friend’s trust sickened Tim, but the thought of getting dragged into a blackmail plot and going to prison sickened him more.

He threw away the rest of his sandwich and headed to the elevator. He stepped inside and pressed the button for the thirteenth floor. The digital readout requested a password. He pressed six, six, six. The floor number display went black and the elevator shot up to the executive floor.

Tim stepped through the open doors and looked around. The floor was black marble and the walls were dark brown mahogany. The tables in the vacant hall were adorned by vases of roses so deeply red that they almost looked black.

Tim glanced down the empty passages. The air was cold and the place was completely silent. It almost felt like a tomb. He immediately regretted his decision to come. He turned around and pressed the elevator button furiously, but nothing happened.

The barely audible sound of a foot tapping against the floor caught his attention. Turning back around, he jumped, finding that he was no longer alone.

The surly blonde executive bodyguard was standing directly in front of him with her arms crossed. He was suddenly aware of just how similar her shimmering eyes looked to Lucy’s.

“Hi,” he said.

Her only