-Static Security and Coffee Impurities-
The man woke up, and crawled his way regretfully out of his bed. The judging evening sun stared through his blinds and into his eyes. He fumbled around for a shirt to put on. Unsuccessful. A grotesque sigh and a scavenge through his scummy laundry. Came across a plain white shirt decent enough to put on. Two or three coffee stains around the bottom of the torso. Downstairs, more coffee, keys, out the pdoor. Sun looming across the western horizon, a dull night to do some sitting.
A hospital, but for the wicked strange and disfigured. A hospital that needs the uninviting chain around it. The man entered the hospital and came to his department. Said his hi’s and bye’s and sat down and stared at the seven tube televisions all along the desk. Silence, black and white. Screens flickered now and then, more silence. Crusty black swivel chair, lacking back support, broken. Vending machine bags, the rough feeling and weight of currency. Sun rises, Hours fly, car starts, says goodbye.
The man woke up.
The cycle continued.
Change resembled a fairy tale his mother had told him decades ago.
On a cold evening, in the black, broken chair, the man sat. Watching diligently, a screen flickered, faded to black. He sat. Sat some more, thinking about what this was. He had never had a screen go black. Searched the office, for knowledge preparing him for this event. Unsatisfactory.
Figured someone in the building must know, ventured out of his sanctuary and into the chill of the halls. Empty. Nothingness. The lack of lifeforms was.... daunting. The fluorescent lights above gave a pale blue reflection off of the linoleum tiles and onto the walls, which seemed to extend into the horizon infinitely. He shambled through the hallway, creeping through office windows along the threshold.
The dark stirred. The black shifted. He backed up. Each window the same movement. Looked back through the never ending hallway. Vision blurred, started shambling back to his dwelling. Panting, accelerated pace. Running. Need to find the door. Need to. Clutched the cylindrical steel and twisted. Shifted through the entrance. Slammed door. Fortress. Grabbed a chair and planted his feet. The televisions were buzzing. Static throughout. He heard something. Not just the tubes, but something scratching. Outside the door.
He put his hand to the door. It scratched at his hand. He shifted his hand to another location on the door. It scratched there too. Sanity dissipated. Fear took the mind on a rollercoaster ride. Paranoia caused him to question his surroundings. Unplugged the monitors, stacked the desk on its side against the door. Sat in a corner next to the file cabinets and huddled his knees as if they were on his football team.
He waited for hours. He lost patience and grew angry. Angry with his cowardice. Angry at the thing on the other side. He smashed one of the tubes, grabbed a shard, and threw the table out of his way. The scratching had disappeared, trying to hide from him he thought. He was in charge now. Threw open the door. Pitch black.
The black surged towards him, eliminating all light in the room. He was in darkness. Footsteps outside the door. He became fearful again, shrunk behind the corner and waited for the evil to pass. Closer. Closer. Right at the door. Stopped. Peaked his head around the door. Nothing. The footsteps began again. Heightened pace. Running. He followed. Took him down the hallway. The lights were now off. The doors on either side of him swung open and the windows shattered. The dark crept up. Consumed him.