Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-35911608-20190815170123

(Note: Another quick story I whipped up in about 15 minutes while working on my larger piece. Lemme know what you think.)

There was nothing special about the day. I had woken up, gotten dressed, and hurried along to my office job just like I did any other day of the week. My eyes were weary as I stared at my Excel spreadsheets and took another sip of coffee from my corner cubicle of the eighth floor. As I coughed the bitter gunk down, I hoped to wake myself up somewhat with new stimuli, by passing my gaze over the short walls of the office, seeing each and every other one of my coworkers typing away diligently. It didn’t do much.

With a heavy breath, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. My stomach was tightening, and my bladder felt full. I decided to hold out for a little while and turned up my music, clinging to some arbitrary belief that it would help me. But after a violent fit of coughing that made my cheeks flush with blood in embarrassment towards my peers, my gut was jostled and my legs were crossed. I stood from my desk with ease and walked to the washroom.

When I unzipped my pants to relieve myself, that’s when I noticed that the urge had disappeared. I shook myself around a bit, but nothing would empty into the urinal. Slightly annoyed but puzzled, I exited the restroom and started making my way back to my desk.

Someone was sitting in my seat. A bit of anger flared up inside at whoever was sifting through my personal work and files, and I stomped back over to give the person an earful. It was my own face that I started to shout at, before realizing who it was. Startled, I yelled and fell backwards, drifting through Brad’s desk. No one noticed, and no one made a noise. Now my heart was pounding. I raised my shaky hands, and could see the stringy carpeted floor through them. Not in between my fingers, but through my palms.

That’s when I felt it - the chill. My head flew up in the direction the sensation had moved through my spirited form from, and saw it. Swearing under my breath, I ducked behind a desk, stupidly hoping it hadn’t seen me. I closed my eyes and prayed that this was all just some weird caffeine induced nightmare (which was ironic and unlikely enough as it sounded), but then pulled myself together long enough to peek back over the desk at the thing.

A dark cloaked figure stared in my direction from the other end of the office. Its face was impossible to see, hidden in the shade of its hood, but I could make out of the rusted farming tool it wielded quite well. As well as the bony finger it raised towards me, before advancing on my position.

My heart sunk before escalating to new levels of pounding. I rushed back over to my body, limp and quiet in its chair. I tried reaching into the heart, the brain, anywhere I thought was spiritually important. I turned back - the cloaked thing was halfway across the floor, holding the scythe in both hands.

I screamed and shouted at my body. I slapped and pinched and punched it. I splashed the coffee on my face - no effect. The chill has grown, and my limbs felt hard and slow to move. I tried moving papers on Brad’s desk. I spilled his coffee too. He swore and got up, passing by my body… only to go straight to the bathroom in a rush. The creature passed right next to him, yet neither acknowledged the other.

I stumbled back, begging for the thing to let me go. I knew what it was, but I wasn’t ready. The silent being raised the rusted tool above its wispy cloaked head with its skeletal arms, and I fell back once again in pure fright, landing in the chair as the blade came slashing down.

I sucked in a large breath and coughed hard, trying to obtain that sweet oxygen from the air. I remembered my plight suddenly, and looked up - only to find that the monster had vanished. I sat there for a moment, staring in the direction of where the thing had been. I had a feeling it was waiting there. Only when Brad returned did I escape the daze.

“Looks like you made a mess too, huh?” he joked, pointing at my shirt.

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah…” I answered, wiping the coffee and sweat from my forehead. I stood up, this time with body in tow, and headed back for the washroom. I’m glad he thought the stain on my pants was just coffee. 