He didn't mean to work overtime on a Thursday night, it just happened.
Someone had managed to spill beer of all things while test driving a new arrival.
As the newbie he was tasked with cleaning the interior as best as possible in the rear garage area.
It wasn't much of a garage, more like a glorified stock room and cleaning room.
The stain was in pretty deep, he debated asking for seat covers in the morning.
Either way, he'd done all he could.
Heading out from the rear garage he saw the floor was empty apart from a coworker's cubicle light.
They weren't in there though and in a minimalist building there were few places for them to be.
Figuring he'd better say bye to them before he clocked out, he went for the break room.
It was situated up a staircase, just beside the boss's office (he did love to pay close attention to them).
The door was open and the microwave was heating something but there was nobody in sight.
As he walked over to see what was in there he heard the sound of tyres screeching from the floor.
Dashing out and peering over the railings he saw all the cars had somehow moved to the walls.
Right in the centre of the showroom was a set of dark red tyre tracks leading to the front door.
Creeping down the stairs he went over to inspect the tracks, the scent of iron filling the air.
There were clumps of hair caught in the sticky blood-tracks, the exact shade of his co-worker's.
She had these pale blue streaks, the boss let it slide as she sold the most card out of all of them.
Now it looked like they'd been torn right out of her head, like she'd been crushed by a car.
Following the tracks he found the car he'd been cleaning sitting in the middle of a ring of cars.
They'd all moved, it was like they were afraid of the this car.
As he saw his co-worker's limbs sticking out from underneath the rear wheels, he collapsed.
Someone had managed to spill beer of all things while test driving a new arrival.
As the newbie he was tasked with cleaning the interior as best as possible in the rear garage area.
It wasn't much of a garage, more like a glorified stock room and cleaning room.
The stain was in pretty deep, he debated asking for seat covers in the morning.
Either way, he'd done all he could.
Heading out from the rear garage he saw the floor was empty apart from a coworker's cubicle light.
They weren't in there though and in a minimalist building there were few places for them to be.
Figuring he'd better say bye to them before he clocked out, he went for the break room.
It was situated up a staircase, just beside the boss's office (he did love to pay close attention to them).
The door was open and the microwave was heating something but there was nobody in sight.
As he walked over to see what was in there he heard the sound of tyres screeching from the floor.
Dashing out and peering over the railings he saw all the cars had somehow moved to the walls.
Right in the centre of the showroom was a set of dark red tyre tracks leading to the front door.
Creeping down the stairs he went over to inspect the tracks, the scent of iron filling the air.
There were clumps of hair caught in the sticky blood-tracks, the exact shade of his co-worker's.
She had these pale blue streaks, the boss let it slide as she sold the most card out of all of them.
Now it looked like they'd been torn right out of her head, like she'd been crushed by a car.
Following the tracks he found the car he'd been cleaning sitting in the middle of a ring of cars.
They'd all moved, it was like they were afraid of the this car.
As he saw his co-worker's limbs sticking out from underneath the rear wheels, he collapsed.
No comments:
Post a Comment