Devils Day

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The nightmare is the daily routine that is life itself. You don't have to work to find your inner demons they simply find you. You are the prey left in the dark and you can't use it to hide.

Tonight Clair is wearing a tight mini skirt and red blouse that reveals more of her than I want to see and isn't office appropriate.

"Clair, Don't wear that outfit again."

"Why? You don't like it?" She asks completely dumbfounded as if she expected to like her sex appeal and of course my male instincts tell me to stare at her glistening cleavage but my false morality and respect for office ethics makes me want to fire the dumb fucking useless cunt and hire anyone better like I don't know... Any man ever?

"Clair you work for Montgomery and Wilder incorporated and if you want to continue to work here you will dress office appropriate and with a decent amount of respect for yourself and your co-workers. Do you understand?" I say firmly as I think about cutting her breasts off and nailing them to my office wall. They'd be just as useless as they are now.

In that moment and just as I achieve an erection under my desk I see Mandy and Vanessa walking down the hall together and I pick up my telephone to act as though I'm talking to Carter.

"Carter? It's Michael from 214. Have you filed the Williams 1984 report? It's very important I receive clearance from up top before I continue with their file. Yes, yes. Of course, you did."

"Look who I found wandering the halls Mr. Matthews. " Mandy smiles and bites her lip a little.

She's an ignorant bitch that I love more than anything and looking at her beautifully full lips makes my erection continue to pulse.

"I brought you lunch, sweetheart!" sweetheart, an ignorant pet name Vanessa says as if I'm supposed to be excited. She knows I go to Rosetta for lunch daily and I look forward to it. If you can consider a three A.M break lunch and the only place you can go within convenient distance at that time something to look forward to.  It has become my routine and I'm a man of routine.

Vanessa hands me some sort of lasagna that doesn't resemble something I would normally eat. It's not a human after all. I suppose there's no human in it but the beef does look suspicious. It could be possible someone fell into the grinder.

"Do you have tonights statistics report, Clair?" I ask completely ignoring the two hard bodies I'm fucking right in front of me. The awkward moment where I begin to ponder if they've ever discussed anything about me.

"I can fax you a new copy right away, Michael." Clair says as she pretends to be remotely professional for a moment.

Mandy walks away as Vanessa trots back and forth in front of my desk demanding attention like a broken puppy.

"Michael, why are you dressed like that?" she asks staring at my attire.

Today I'm wearing a black suit and tie with a white undershirt I purchased at ugh... Sears for a little under two hundred dollars. I've decided to cheapen my clothing purchases as my wardrobe has been depleting due to my new murderous habit.

I want to stab her in each eye with a pencil and watch her blindly stumble into things while screaming and holding what used to be her eyes.

"Because I simply do not care." I say in a lighthearted voice as if she is the broken puppy I'm imaging her as. A puppy I've stabbed in the eyes with a pencil. I may have to do this if I find a stray on my walk home. The idea is continuing the pulse in my erection.

You might think of me as a sick and disturbed individual but the truth is I am your friend, neighbors, co-worker. I am your family. I am the young lady working underpaid as a cashier at the grocery store only one irate customer or bitchy bossy statement away from shooting every person in the store before killing herself. I am what you do not tell your psychiatrist about.

You don't know you know me but you do. You walk by me every single day or at least the idea of me and yes, you should be scared because at any given time or with one uncertain wrong move anyone could become me. Remember to hand me some gum, praise me or simply be kind because when I do go postal at the office it may save you from having your brains splattered across your cubical and if a stray shot does hit you I may feel remorse or sympathy and blow your head off.

Vanessa was talking about something, quite possibly kittens or abortions; It could range really. I do not care and I nod my head in agreement.

".. So you will come to John's Halloween party? Good. I'm so excited." Vanessa says as I snap back to realty.

"John who?"

"Carter, silly! He's having a Halloween party on devil's night because Halloween falls on a Sunday this year! We have to go!"

I nod yes. I know Vanessa is fucking John Carter and I imagine her riding his over weight belly unable to see his own penis as she rocks her hips back and forth. I know they're fucking but I have no evidence. No source of proof ; I just simply know.

Devil's night has intrigued me since childhood. I've always wanted to go on a murderous rampage or become a pyromaniac to burn down apartment buildings and watch my body count rise on the evening news but fire doesn't intrigue me and now I have a passion to watch the pigment change in my victims eyes.

I am the beast.

"I don't want to eat this lasagna. I want to eat at Rosetta's. I want to have a cigarette." I say in a more stern voice than I've ever used. Fuck this lasagna it is probably full of arsenic. Vanessa has instincts like any woman. She has to know I'm leaving her by now.

"Well, that's fine. Can I come with you?" she asks in a tone that suggests she's lying to me and it is certainly not fine. I'm intrigued by her willingness to come with me but I also want to see what would happen to her skull in trash compactor for being a liar.

"I want to eat alone!" I say as a tear comes to her eye and she walks away.
What a useless cunt. Go sit on John Carter's obviously small dick as it's certainly not keeping you happy.

I need a cigarette.

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