Here Be Monsters - By M T Murphy Page 0,5

upper floors.

An extremely tall man in an obscenely expensive business suit was working on a sixth column. He had completed the two side walls and bricked up about three feet of the front portion. He placed the final brick of a row, then set his trowel next to the mortar and pile of unused bricks and faced them.

Tim was finding it very difficult to breathe. The relief he had felt after his conversation with Lucy was being replaced by a growing sense of dread.

“From the quality of his work,” Lucy said into the silence, “one would never guess that Mr. Nash is not a mason by trade.”

The man towered over Tim by nearly a foot. A quick glance at his menacing stare and Tim recognized him as one of the executive security goons.

“What exactly did you want me to do?” Tim asked. He wanted nothing more than to get out of the room as quickly as he could.

“Of course,” she said. “Please examine the contents of the column Nash has been so diligently constructing.”

Tim nodded and walked toward the incomplete column. He took his time, not because he wanted to move slowly, but because it was as fast as he could force himself to go while fighting his mounting terror.

Before he was close enough to look inside, a sound escaped the brick enclosure. Something moved. The ring of metal brushing against metal grew louder as he approached.

A standing figure stirred in the darkness.

“Tim? Is that you?”

It was Barry.

Lucy appeared at Tim’s side. “Your friend Mr. Barrington has been quite insistent that he talk to you before Nash’s job is finished.”

Chains rattled as Barry moved as far forward as he could. His hands and feet were tethered to the cinderblock wall with about two and a half feet of heavy chains. “Tim, you’ve got to help me. Tell them. Tell them the truth.”

“Barry? What is going on?” Tim looked to Lucy for an explanation, but she stood silently, an enigmatic grin her only response.

“Tell them,” Barry pleaded. “It was your idea. I didn’t want to blackmail anybody.” He turned to Lucy. “You have to believe me. Tim said he’d kill me if I didn’t go along with it.”

Tim was too shocked to reply. He looked at Lucy again.

“It is true,” she said. “All evidence does indicate that you were planning to blackmail me. Nash, show Tim what you discovered in the bottom drawer of his desk.”

The giant reached into his hip pocket and produced the pistol Barry had shown him the night before.

“Our science department checked and the only prints on the gun match what we have on file for you at human resources, Tim,” she said. “A quick check on the gun’s serial number confirms that it was purchased with your credit card and registered in your name.”

Tim recalled Barry asking to borrow his only credit card to purchase a microwave at a local pawn shop a few weeks back. He hadn’t wanted to let the card out of his sight, but his friend had always been very persuasive.

“Lucy.” Tim wanted to explain. He had to.

“No,” she said. “I will ask you a question in a moment, but for now I want you both to listen very carefully.”

Tim silently locked eyes with Barry.

“As I am sure you are coming to realize, I am the type of employer who prefers to settle matters internally rather than involving outside authorities. We are a family. You are both a part of this family. A family handles its own matters, including discipline and punishment.”

Tim glanced at the other five brick columns.

“It is true,” Lucy went on, “that I value loyalty and integrity. I also value strength of character in those I allow into my trust. Someone has shamed this family. One of you must die.”

Tim thought about running.

Lucifera casually placed a hand on his shoulder. Her grip was like a steel vice. He winced in pain and let out a yelp.

She nodded to Nash. “As I was saying, one of you must die. I do not care which of you it is.”

Nash handed the pistol to a very shocked Barry.

Lucy continued. “My only question is—”

Barry cut her off with a primal scream and pointed the gun at Tim’s head. Tim stared directly down the barrel and heard the distinctive click of an empty chamber.

Barry pulled the trigger five more times. The gun clicked harmlessly each time. After the last click, he threw the gun down and buried his face in his hands.

“How rude,” Lucy