Turning the handle, Johan kept one hand on the office chair next to him as he opened it inwards towards him. The lights were brighter outside but he still didn’t hear any noises or voices in the vicinity. Even straining the edges of his hearing, there was nothing there. Not even a buzzing light or machines working.
Open the door Johan. Open the bloody door and step through.
As he continued to psyche himself up Johan grabbed the handle and pulled the door wide open to find himself in a large office environment. Working ceiling lights gave him a clear view but the rest of the it was comparable to the previous office room he had just left. Grey carpets, magnolia floors with dust covering most surfaces.
‘Hello? I’m armed. With...a not-gun. Yeah. Hello?’ called out Johan.
Getting a verbal response wouldn’t have been the best option but he’d try and make sure. In these scenarios there would likely be other office workers just like him emerging from their own small private office rooms and the fun would begin.
‘Yeah! Yeah! Let’s do this! Yeah!’ said Johan as he dragged the office chair through the door behind him and grabbing it with two hands threw it into the air as it slammed into a nearby dark grey cubicle fabric covered wall.
If there was people around here then they’d hear that. If not then he could grab another chair and smash it around a little. The heat in his chest had lessened a little from his actions and he wanted to come across as threatening not entirely crazy. He’d need an edge in this competition or event to survive and escape.
‘Hey! Challenger here! Ready to...fight and stuff!’ said Johan, raising his voice a little.
Keeping the door behind him at his back Johan waited for a response and heard nothing.
Not even the lights above him flickered. His action in throwing the chair had helped him a little but he was in need of a relief which he’d neglected for long enough.
Johan didn’t know how long he’d been drugged unconscious for and if they had kept him hydrated and fed but he still wanted to urinate. There was a push on his bladder. Stepping back into the office he shut the door and moved sideways to one of the corners but not turning his back.
Unzipping he relieved himself in the corner, putting one hand out to steady himself and avoid getting any of his own urine on his clothes.
Better. Much better.
Zipping back up and glad to see that his aim was so good that he hadn’t even got any on his office black leather shoes Johan turned his attention back to the door and returned back outside into the larger office space. If any other ‘players’ were dropped off in that room he’d be sorry for them, at least he woke up in a sterile place. His next step would be to explore this abandoned office space and see if he could get a drink of water from a water cooler, or even better find a working coffee machine and break room. And if there was a fridge with labelled names on the boxes then he’d break them open and eat them anyway.
The ultimate fantasy of anyone who’d just been fired was to make a mess of the office. Or at least cause a little chaos. Johan figured that as long as he was noisy enough then he’d be recognised and as a ‘player’ as the mysterious voice had said he’d get some sort of messages from a computer system.
Passing a few more cubicles Johan was surprised to see that not a single one of them contained any electronics or personal belongings. Just more chairs, near identical to the one he had initially thrown. He grabbed another one and swung it around nearly knocking down a cubicle wall before it flew into the distance. This time he heard a crash and a smashing sound. Either he’d hit a private office window or it’d smashed something else.
As long as he made noise it was worth it. Deciding to let loose a little Johan assumed a gorilla like posture and choosing a random direction beat his bare chest and shouted even louder.
‘GOT A CHALLENGER HERE FOR YOUR GAME! ALL TAKERS WELCOME!’ shouted Johan. His throat was getting more perched now and he carried on past a few more rows of cubicles, his black office shoes kicking up grey dust off the floors.
A glint in the near distance caught his eye and Johan saw an item which would have been common in his own office. A security camera and an intercom speaker mounted up on the ceiling just past a series of lights. A little hard for him to reach with a chair but not impossible. Increasing his speed Johan grabbed an office chair from a nearby cubicle and jammed it against the wall directly below the security camera and speaker.
He stood on it and shoved his face towards the camera sticking out his tongue then he tapped it with his fingers. For all he knew this was simply an abandoned office building waiting for a new company and employees to move in. A good place for rich people to play their games especially if they owned the entire thing.
‘Hey. I’m bored. This isn’t a nightmare. This is boring. Is your computer system meant to send me messages yet?’ said Johan as he stared directly at the camera.
Not having a response he reached into the makeshift sack attached to his belt and pulled out the Kris knife. The tip was still covered in a tiny portion of his own blood which had slowly dried and as it touched the edge of the camera a small flame appeared on the hilt of the blade.
Johan scratched the camera lens as it activated, a red light came on and it moved towards him, the camera focusing on him. Jumping back off the chair Johan waved the Kris knife a few times before putting it back into the sack on his belt.
The intercom gave off a high-pitched sound for a millisecond before an electronic voice boomed out.
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‘Finally, does the game begin now? Are you a computer system message? I’m thirsty and getting a little hungry. Oh yeah, and I did my business back in one of your private office rooms. I have no idea which one given that everything in this place is pretty much identical. Just a heads up, if you’re going to drug someone and bring them here maybe let them use the toilet before releasing them. Office Chaos? Seriously, that’s the best name you can come up with? I don’t even play video games and I could come up with a better name than that.’
Having finally gotten an answer Johan was becoming annoyed. He’d found a clue for this place and then the computer system had decided to break down. Not a big issue though, where there was one security camera and intercom there would be a thousand more.
Taking hold of the chair he had been standing on, Johan took several steps back before swinging it around harder this time and letting it fly towards the direction of the security camera as he watched the fabric covered chair collide with it and the intercom smashing both partially off the ceiling.
‘Hey! Hey rich people, spend your money fixing your computer systems. And what’s a level zero player? I’m level one million. Also, just because you have money doesn’t mean that you get to call yourself a god. You can own a country and still not be a god. See you at the next security camera. And come up with a better name!’ said Johan as he turned to walk away.
A buzzing sound rang out as the security camera and intercom both reassembled themselves backwards until they were both in working order.
The same electronic voice boomed out of the intercom again with a difference. This time, it was angry.
Struggling not to laugh Johan bowed his head and shrugged his shoulders. Although the voice was electronic the tone that made it up wouldn’t have sounded out of place for an otaku. Likely male. No other normal person would call themselves a god in an office environment.
‘Oh, it talks. You know that I wouldn’t break anything if you set out the rules for me. Like where are all the other level zero players for me to compete against? Also, you should hand out starting equipment. Water, food and a weapon. Basic rules for office death matches unless you expect me to fight to the death using staples and paper-clips.’ said Johan.
An unknown pressure forced Johan to first bow and then to his knees and finally on the ground. If he could have described it in the heat of the moment without biting off his tongue he would have called it a mixture of gravity and boss power. As it was he was forced to curl onto the ground of the grey carpet.
As Johan stayed curled on the ground on the grey carpet, dust rubbing into his bare chest a wetness came onto his face. He managed to force a hand upwards to rub away his tears and his fingers came back reddened with blood.
‘Not an avatar. You otaku piece of…’ struggled Johan as the security camera moved its position and refocused on him.
The voice coming from the speaker while still electronic took on a shriller tone.
‘No...I don’t...no. I’m not. No. I just want to leave. All you need to do is point me to the exit and I’m gone.’ said Johan.
Johan was losing consciousness again he knew. The wetness on his face was running down his cheeks now and onto his body. Blood. He was weeping tears of blood. No pain though, not in the physical sense. He was thankful for that at least. Still, if the so-called office god wanted him to open his bag he’d rather break.
Torturing someone wasn’t the best way to gain information. Besides he kept being called an avatar. Psychologically Johan knew he was taking on some serious damage. The best he could do was to ignore it and shunt it to the side. His body was limited yes, but he didn’t feel pain. Only discomfort at being shunted onto the ground, likely through a drug in the air causing him to hallucinate, which meant that he was in control of the situation.
‘No.’ said Johan as he shifted a hand with some difficulty towards the makeshift bag attached to his belt. From the weight of it, the knife was shifting with his movement but hadn’t yet cut through the material.
Shifting his weight, Johan loosened the ties on the makeshift bag on his belt and slipped a hand inside grabbed the wrong end of the Kris knife as it cut several of his fingers lightly. Blood dripped from his fingers as it was rapidly absorbed by the blade. A warmth spread into his hand as the unknown form of pressure, likely a hypnotic signal against his will, began to lessen. His free hand steadied himself on the floor as he uncurled and pushed to his knees.
Half-shrouded in darkness, Johan was able to make out a single red light on the security camera flashing as it faded to black. His hand inside the bag was beginning to ache as it increasingly warmed up. The previous pressure on him had entirely gone as though it had never been there. With his free hand he touched his face and as his fingers came back with flecks of dried blood on his cheeks.
He’d half been expecting the makeshift bag to glow with the amount of heat he was experiencing but when he pulled his hand out there was not traces of blood on his fingers. Only when he loosened the ties on the bag and peered inside he was able to make out a tiny red flame on the hilt before it vanished.
‘Not a jerk. I’m not the freak who decided it was a good idea to kidnap me and dump me in an abandoned office with no toilet in sight. Enjoy the scent of...and you’re actually done talking. Hey otaku. OTAKU! Anyone still at home or you want to get back to your epic series?’ said Johan.
He’d need to try and remember some of the specific insults which his ex-girlfriend Christine had called him related to fantasy style people but calling the person on the other side an otaku was easy enough.
The emptiness of the abandoned office and the now-complete absence of sound concerned Johan. All the non-stop talk from an individual who was actually genuine in calling themselves a god. Despite the nonsense that he had been subjected to there was one face that Johan hadn’t been called out on. Talking to his Kris knife. The individual hadn’t mentioned that fact. Not even once.
Sticking his hand into his bag just to slice up the tips of his fingers again, despite the complete lack of pain, wasn’t a good plan Johan decided. His body was likely pumping enough adrenalin or he’d been dosed with drugs prior to waking up inside the office which offset the sensations of pain and made him more susceptible to hypnosis or suggestion.
He’d still chat to his knife even if was in the bag though. It even had a name for him to talk with. Being seen as crazy would be his shield in this place. A real world horror film.
‘Hi Kris, sorry for not taking you out of that bag but you heard the man. If that was a man. We’ve got some friends on the way to join the fun. I think the safest place for you is staying right there while my fingers take a break. In short, I need to find food and water and get out of this place. Fast. Any ideas?’ said Johan.
The flickering light above his head acted as a reminder of his situation.
‘Random direction it is old friend! Food and drink await me!’ said Johan. Given that he’d seen one active security camera and had an interesting if brief conversation with his mad jailer it was likely there was others. Time was not on his side. His stomach was beginning to growl and his throat told him that he needed water.