Ficlets

Poor Work Ethic: The Reckoning

The quartet stood motionless for what seemed an eternity.

Carol narrowed her eyes as she watched Mr. Wallace, waiting to see what he would do next, her hand tightening on the knife. Wallace was a dangerous adversary and she would do well not to underestimate him.

Susan stood, mouth agape, eyes darting between Carol and Mr. Wallace. It seemed as though the temperature had dropped suddenly.

Mr. Wallace spoke to Carol, his upper lip wrinkling in disgust. “You. Have. Been. Naughty.” With each word, Susan could see condensation from his breath. The temperature actually had dropped, which made the encounter all the more frightening and … otherworldly. She turned and walked stiffly back into her cube.

“You have usurped my authority. You have killed one of my employees. And now you will pay.” He closed his eyes and began chanting rapidly, under his breath. Soon, a sickly green light began pulsing from Jason’s cube.

Then, in a voice made inhuman by dissolving vocal cords, came a single word:

“Wuss?”

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