Morpheus

by Mezzaic

Upon entering the restaurant, I was led to a table at the back located in a room reserved only for those whose salaries exceeded the one million dollar per year mark. The benefit of this was twofold, firstly the tables in this room were away from prying eyes, and secondly eating amongst wealthy people was a lot better than sitting with the common folk. At this hour of day, the room was completely empty which made me feel at ease. I really didn’t want to talk to anyone today, especially after the events that had just taken place.

  After waiting for about half an hour for my meal and draining a bottle of 2009 Chateau Margaux Balthazar, my plate of escargot arrived. I relished the crunch of this exquisite species as they entered my mouth one by one. The crunchy jelly like texture reminded me of the window that had shattered two months ago after I had shoved one of my former employees through it. The man had been a terrible liar and a rather uninspiring human being. He always came to work reeking of alcohol and was unable to string a coherent sentence together at the best of times. The day of the incident was still fresh in my mind.

  This man who shall remain nameless for privacy reasons came to work one morning extremely late. I summoned him to my office and interrogated him. He stated that he was late due to a family emergency. I pressed on further and asked what was so important that he deemed it acceptable to be late. He told me that his sister Jamie had informed him about her dirty little secret, and that he was concocting a plan with her to help her escape from her husband. I asked him if he knew which man she was having an affair with, he pleaded ignorance on this matter, but I knew better.

  As he got up to leave from the chair across from my desk and turned around, I picked up a sculpture of a snail that was on my desk and smashed it into the back of his skull. He immediately fell to the floor in a blubbering mess, with blood pouring out of the gaping wound. I sighed as I realized that I would have to replace the Aztec rug that his blood had drenched. I dragged his body over to the glass window and spun him around and looked into his eyes as I pressed his back up against the glass. I didn’t need to say a single word; he knew his time on earth was done. I then placed a boot onto his stomach and pushed him through the glass.

  The coroner’s report had claimed his death was the result of the glass being installed incorrectly. I also stated this in my report to the police. One minute he was there, the next minute after leaning on the glass, he was gone.

  I took the rug home and burnt it until it was mere ash. As for the snail sculpture, well I took it home that evening and cleaned it religiously and then took it back to my office the next day and placed it back on my desk. Nobody knew that I had murdered one of my staff, I was in the clear.

  After I finished my exquisite lunch, I went back to my office. At this stage I felt it was the appropriate time to have a smoke break. The day had been exceedingly taxing on my mental wellbeing and I needed to ease my mind. I decided that I would take in the view from the top of the building while smoking.

  As I ascended the stairs, I couldn’t help but think of all the corruption in the city. The company that had installed this staircase was responsible for cutting corners which inevitably led to hundreds of casualties when the Apex tower building caught fire late last year and the stairways collapsed. I had bribed the company stating that I could keep their secret if they installed the stairways in this building correctly. They complied without any fuss.

  After I closed the door that led to the top level of the building, I walked over to the safety wall that surrounded the top of the building. I was glad that an extra safety feature had been installed into the wall itself. There had been a rash of suicides in previous months at other corporations after staff had been dismissed. These staff members took it upon themselves to jump off the top of their respective buildings. Those buildings lacked an electric shock system that would be triggered if someone climbed onto the walls. Fortunately this building had that feature installed.

  As I looked out across the city, I felt a surge of sorrow. The people in high rise offices buildings working nine to five jobs would never know what it felt like to be me. I controlled the city, from the transport system to the products that they consumed. They would never know their entire existence was orchestrated by a single man. They would never taste true freedom. They would forever be stuck in an endless loop of capitalist consumption.

  Suddenly a bright flash accompanied by a loud bang drew my attention to the building situated directly across from me. It seemed as though the task had been completed. My son had killed my wife. She deserved to be murdered. She deserved to be stuck in a state of purgatory.

  The previous day, I had finished work early and drove home only to find that there was another car parked in my driveway. I had suspected for many months that my wife was cheating on me but I had no proof. I parked across the street and kept a close eye on my house, as soon as my wife left the house, I exited the car.

  Upon entering my home, I was greeted by a man standing at the foot of the stairs that led to the second level. I had seen this man every day for the last five years. This man was always at my beck and call, he was my supervisor. That day he had called in sick, but I knew something was off as soon as I had heard the tone of his voice on the phone. My suspicions had finally been confirmed.

  Standing before me, his eyes grew to the size of golf balls; he tried to explain the reason for being there but he kept stumbling over his words. I picked up the baseball bat that was propped up next to the front door and swung it down on his face, taking pleasure in the pain on his face as I hit him again and again until he became unrecognizable. He fell to a bloodied heap by the front door. His three black dogs trundled over to him whimpering as they huddled around their former master. I didn’t kill the dogs, I wasn’t a monster.

  As I smoked the cigarette down to the filter, I decided that I had had enough of this city, of this corrupt lifestyle and climbed up onto the wall in front of me. I had turned off the electric shock safety feature before leaving the office for lunch. I then took one final look at the city around me and jumped off the edge and plummeted to my death, I had sinned enough, I would not be coming back.