Whirlwind

A gloomy windy day invokes an uncomfortable stillness around an office building. Ashes powder the roof as a murder of crows begin to circle it. A demonic being descends upon the center of the roof. Ripped and torn black clothes reveal gray and cut skin. His feet plant softly on the grimy wet surface of the roof. His eyes burn red as his devilish grin grows bigger. As he hisses with a snake like tongue and fangs dripping with venom, he manifest an oval shaped hole allowing him to eye out a middle aged man staring at a computer screen. This devil like being whispers: “Thy name is Satan. You, my sweet little dark prince, shall complete a great deed for me.”

The crows begin to caw, their group grows in size and the pattern of their movement changes. Satan opens up his left palm, upon which an emblem in the shape of an upside down triangle overlapping a smaller feeds and crosses over the letter V. He snaps his fingers and a black rose appears out of thin air and drops down onto the middle aged man.

“Your journey starts…now…Dave.” Said Satan as the rose’s thorns cuts Dave’s neck.

Satan disappears, as does the hole he manifested, but the crows change their circle into a dust wind.

Dark and haunting as this may be, inside are bright lights and phones ringing like busy bees working tirelessly for their queen. A powerful being that they believe must be respected and feared. Their love and trepidation for this powerful leader has them picking up and putting down phones, dialing and aggressively getting clients. All of which formulate a never-ending nightmarish environment. Filled with unbelievable stress, noise, thunderous steps and fear. No time to stop and no time to extinguish the chaos.

Dave, in the centre of this busy hive, is staring at his screen. Scrolling through Facebook he stops the white arrow on a post from a woman named Carol. It reads:

Dave and I are done! Finally rid of my loser husband. God he is such a boring piece of shit. It’s time to find someone who appreciates life and is excited about it. Oh and Dave if you are reading this, do not come near me and definitely do not call me.

Comments:

Dave Brishon: Loser? Boring? I did so much for you!

Carol Courteois: Ya you did. You lied to me about your “business trip”, which need I remind you, was a trip with Sheryl (my best friend) to her honeymoon so you can plow her. Oh and you also pawned my wedding band because it was “no good anymore”. Pfft, did so much for me. I hope you die in a damn hell storm!

Dave Brishon: Oh so all of that makes it ok for you to divorce me? It’s just me that’s the bad guy? I mean if you want to play the blame game then fine, let’s play. Not only did you cheat way more than I did with you, but WHO you cheated with is far worse. You cheated on me with my brother, my father, my roommate and I’m pretty sure you fucked everyone in the neighborhood. Oh and do you know why I cheated on you? Because YOU are the most childish, boring, close minded, hateful lying human being I ever met. How can I be faithful to someone like that? For the longest time all I saw was your sweet outer shell. That clearly blinded me from the sourness of who you really are.

His right eye twitches, lower lip quivers and left hand slowly balls up into a fist. Eyebrows crease as his forehead furrows. Cheeks flush red to the point where veins pop from his temples down to his neck.

His strained face remained still as he grit his teeth. He closes his Facebook page, which revealed something that only made his blood boiling grin even bigger.

July 5th, 2004

Dave pulls into the garage and sits in his car as he looks at a locket hanging off the rear view mirror. He grabs it and turns the back side of it towards him. An engraving reads: D & C Brishon, 1986.

He lets go of the locket, then grabs his suitcase while opening the car door. Walking to the door leading into the house he hears intimate moaning. His squeamish and nervous face breaks the calmness he had in the car.

He opens the door, each step leading closer to the door makes the moaning louder and louder. A familiar and strange tone of voice echo from an open door down the end of the hall. He drops his suitcase and grabs a metal baseball bat from a pile of junk that has clearly been collecting dust for years.

Dave steps slowly as he approaches the door. Only a couple steps away, the sensual sounds from the room muffle the creaking of the floor. He bolts into the room with the bat above his shoulder as if he was about to start swinging. Before his eyes was something that made his eyes widen, forehead frown and teeth grit in anger.

“What the fuck?”

“Shit! Mark, get out quick!” She said wrapping herself with the bed sheets.

Mark runs out the room with all his clothes.

“Honey, please. Let’s talk.” She said standing scared next to the bed.

“Talk? About what? You fucking my brother?”

Carol sits on the bed with her head down as she sobs violently.

“I want you out by tomorrow night.”

“Babe please.”

“No! The only time you get to set foot in this house again is with signed divorce papers.”

She stops sobbing and looks at him petrified and shocked. He slams the door shut before she opens her mouth.

Present

Before his eyes is a picture of him and Carol. You could feel the love they must’ve once had. It’s as if their love was so strong that everything around them was a blur. Nothing else mattered and nothing else was as clear as who they saw in front of them.

March 17, 1998

The Sun, nearly set, cascades a purple reddish pink thick brush of clouds. Resting gracefully over a serene corner of the country side of France. Dave and Carol, sitting on a cliff, breathe peacefully as they listen to the soft wind. Its gentle strength brushes against their skin like a duvet slowly falling on a bed.

“I can’t believe we’re in France!” said Carol.

Dave looked at her like she was the most mesmerizing Oasis. It’s as if he saw an unearthly angelic being he had never seen before. Caramel colored skin, hazelnut curly hair, silky white blouse, beige skirt.

Her head rest on his chest as they squeeze each other’s interlocked fingers. Their feet dangling side to side, collide playfully as they start to play footsy. She giggles then looks up at him, leaning in close as she gives him a kiss. A passionate kiss. He smiles gleefully then says:

“Babe, I know that I’ve never been good at telling you how I feel.”

“Ya but you try sweetie. Sometimes you’re terrible though.”

He scoffs then says: “Ya, got that right.” He says as he reaches for a small black velvet box in his pocket. Carol stunned by what’s happening brings a hand to her mouth.

“Carol, no matter how long it will take for me to tell you how much I love you, I will always try my hardest to show you how I feel.” He said then opening the box revealing a diamond and emerald ring.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

He places the ring on her finger as she lovingly grabs him by the side of the face. They kiss, never letting each other go until the sun had completely set.

Present

A muffled voice echoes towards Dave. His glazed look indicates his numbness towards this authoritarian figure trying to communicate something that has upset them. Crows caws blare into his ears as a bony hand with long black nails grips his left shoulder. The grip tightens as an ice cold chill cakes his entire body. The tip of the long nails dig in to this skin then release. Dave makes eye contact with Satan’s face. Whom disappears as Dave looks where the voice was coming from.

“Earth to Dave! Why aren’t you working?” said a tall heavy set woman.

“Sorry mam, going through a tough time.” Said Dave shaking his head.

“I don’t give a damn what excuse you have for not working! You do what I tell you do!” Said the tall woman.

Dave taps his foot nervously. Each tap becoming faster and faster as the ringing of phones grow louder. He stares up at his bosses sweaty forehead and shaky beady eyes gleaming with anger. Satan spawns himself next to Dave. He bows his head down and whispers into his ear: “Make the bitch explode.” He gives the Devil a nod and points his finger at his boss’s nose and says:

“So what are you telling me to do…Carol?” said Dave.

“Get that finger out of my face. Who’s Carol? “She asked as her face morphed into Carol’s. Dave’s chest begins to rise and fall deeply as his gaze becomes more and more fixated on his boss’s meaty pointing finger and angry purple face. His look of disbelief started to mess with his mind. He couldn’t look away. Her face kept flickering back and forth from Carol’s to his boss.

“Listen closely little man, your job is to do what I tell you to do. So what am I telling you to do? I’m telling you to sell until I say stop. If you stop before as I say so, you’re fired!” She said as she pointed her finger at Dave. The tension in the room increases as all coworkers stare and work silently.

Whistling sounds of wind rattle the windows as the core of anger and chaos inflates both entities. Their heads swell and emit smells of burning corpses and haunting swill.

“Listen to me you bloated whale, if I want to take a small break from phone calls and reading that dumb script, I will. Just because you are literally the big boss everyone has to work and bleed for, doesn’t mean you control us.” He said taking a rather misogynistic approach to fire back at her blatant threat.

Flabbergasted by his words, Dave’s boss’s eyes go wide and her double chin becomes engorged with blood. Clearly about to blow she says:

“MY OFFICE NOW!” she exclaimed viciously.

“Good job my dear boy”. Said Satan.

Screaming is heard behind a door that reads Mrs. Ryten – Branch Manager. As we enter the room the first thing we here is Dave saying:

“You don’t follow the rules! You make us do things that could clearly get us sued. For God’s sake! There are legal matters that need to be followed and you clearly don’t give a shit about them.”

Mrs. Ryten dabs her sweaty and red face with a Kleenex. She clears her throat then says:

“You know what? You’re right. I don’t care what you guys do to get us clients. More importantly, doing everything you can to make the company as much money possible. Like I said a million times before, your job is to do what I tell you to do. So we can keep this business running and eliminate competition. If you can’t do any of that for me then go home. “

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means if you don’t start calling people right now…you’re fired.”

Running his hands through his hair as he paces back and forth, he stops right in front of Mrs. Ryten and puts his hands on the desk with a creepy grin on his face.

“Get your hands off my desk!” said Mrs. Ryten.

An eerie pause in the heat of this battle erodes between them. Dave take a deep breath as he close his eyes. A slow exhale creates a transparent vapor as his eyes open and grin widens even more.

“You better call the janitors early.” Dave whispered.

“Why?”

Dave walks out the room and shoves a chair up against the door. Heavy foot steps are heard until the door violently vibrates from slamming fist.

“Open this damn door or I’m calling the cops!” Shouted Mrs. Ryten.

Dave walks over to his desks as everyone stares at him with curiosity and fear. Phones are put down, dialing and chatter all come to a halt.

Staring at his cubicle, he feels Satan’s icy cold breath steam over his shoulder. A cringing grin is plastered on his faced as he begins madly throwing everything in all directions. All his paperwork flies and scatters all over the place. Just like the murder of crows on the roof, the papers form a tornado along the walls. The desks begin to shuffle and lift up and down as if a dust wind was forming around the building. Dave takes his coffee mug and throws it blindly as it smashes against the fire alarm. The coffee bleeds on the floor as the fire sprinkler system is set off. Everyone, fearing for their safety, run into the breakroom.

Dave unplugs his computer and lifts it above his head. He pivots towards Mrs. Ryten’s office. Satan stands next to him, dry despite water spewing everywhere. He places one hand over Dave’s head and the other pointed to the door.

“Kill her!” he said pointing his index finger down.

The chair flings forward as Mrs. Ryten burst through the door like a raging bull. She stands still as the sprinkler soaks her entire body. Her face glitches from Mrs. Ryten to Carol. Her eyes dart directly at Dave as she pants heavily. She lets out a menacing sound the likes of an ogre charging into war as she belts out a blood curdling battle cry.

The carpeted floor had become so engorged with water she slipped and fell head first into the top right leg of the chair. Her slip was so quick and heavy that her forehead was pierced on the edge of it. He takes his computer and smashes her head right through the leg.

“Job well done my sweet little dark prince.” Said Satan.

Dave smiles as he walks over to her bleeding head and runs his fingers along the blood soaked leg of the chair. He goes to the one window that wasn’t cracked and painted the words: The Queen is dead.

He turns back towards his cubicle panting as the rest of his coworkers stare through the glass wall of the breakroom. Like frightened animals hoping a predator leaves them alone. He looks up at them as he grabs his drenched belongings. The blood on his fingers, gaunt and wet face is so terrifying they take a step away from the glass. He walks up to about a foot of the door. He wipes the blood on his chest as two crows fly in from a broken window then on to his left shoulder. He looks at them and says:

“Do me a favor guys. Leave. Just leave and don’t look back. This place has nothing but death, misery, chaos and anger. If you decide to stay, may God have mercy on your soul as your fear consumes you.”

Satan waits for him at the door. He scratches the wall, which leaves four deep marks. The coworkers gasp when they see those marks appear out of nowhere. Dave diverts his attention away from them and heads out the door.

Dave, now driving home, has decided to take a scenic route. Clothes stick to his skin, hair soaks over his forehead and the blood has diluted all over his shirt into a pinkish stain. Listening to a radio station, he takes a deep breath as the host starts talking.

“Hello everyone. You are listening to the Let’s get real show. Today we are going to talk about how to go through the five stages of grieving after divorce. But before we dive in, if any callers out there want to talk about what they are going through call now.”

Dave looks down at his phone as he squeezes the wheel. He dials a number and puts it on speaker. The host of the show answers saying: “Hello caller, how are you doing on this rainy day?”

“Hmmm, I don’t know. Fine I guess.”

“Hmmm, that doesn’t sound convincing.”

“My feelings are none of your business.”

“Well, caller. Sorry what was your name?”

“Dave.”

“Dave, I can tell you are going through a rough time. How rough? I don’t know. This is just an opportunity for you to vent.”

Dave exhales in an exhaustive tone.

“Well since we’re talking about divorce I do want to say something.”

“Go on.”

“It sucks.” he said without effort or care.

“Is that it?”

“Let me put it to you this way. I want to kill my ex-wife. She destroyed what was left of me and now she’s going to pay. Carol, if you’re listening, I’m coming home. “ He said hanging up.

A whirlwind a hundred feet away from where he was, descends as branches from trees break off and lightning strikes the ground.

It picks up speed and size as it follows Dave’s path. It spots his car, swallows it and spits out into a ditch. Right before he’s about to close his eyes Carol spontaneously appears outside his window with a crazed grin. A puncture wound the likes of Mrs. Ryten’s bleeds out from the left side of her forehead. Hers clothes are ripped and torn, hands hang at her side. This is the last he sees of Carol. Right when Dave was about to pass out, Satan spontaneously appears in the backseat. He cackles as he sings: “The Queen is dead! The Deed is done! The Queen is dead! The deed is done!”

The End