The warehouse was bustling with activity as usual. It was the holiday season, after all, and the hundreds of thousands of people that ordered their gifts online for the holidays were expecting them to arrive on time. Aron threw one of the many boxes onto the conveyor belt to be sorted by the system; it was nearing his lunch break and he wanted to finish up this semi-truck before then. It was hard work, the packages and trucks seemingly endless, as he worked to try and keep up with his mandated quota.

A short while later, Aron found himself sitting in the break room. Scarfing down his sandwich before the bell indicating his break was over rang. With a loud BOOM! Two hands appear on either side of Aron on the table.

“Jesus!” Quickly looking behind himself Aron found the one who distrubed his lunch. With a big dumb grin plastered on his face, John lifts his hands up in mock surrender.

“Just makin sure yer on your toes friend, wouldn’t want anyone sneaking up on ya like that when it matters!” John says as he gives a quick wink.

After sitting down in the seat across from him, John eyed Aron questioningly, taking a bite out of a bagel.

“So what’s up with you?” he half mumbled between mouthfuls.

“Eh nothing much, just wanting this shift to be over sooner rather than later.”

“No shit?” John chuckled “Nah man I mean like.. What’s up with you? You’ve been all quiet the last couple days. I mean, what happened? Yer dog die or something?”

“My cat is fine John, I’m just tired of working here. I wanna find something different to do with my life. I don’t want to spend it all here sorting boxes ya know?”

“Hmpf, well let me know if you find something.” he says wiping the crumbs off his beard “An if yer ever in the mood to hang, I know a pretty good watering hole we can get ah couple of drinks for cheap.” He smiles as he stands up clapping his hands together.

The lunch bell rings.

“Welp! Back to the grind, seeya Aron!” John says, waving over his shoulder at Aron.

John was like that: loud, jovial, and a little bit crude, but you could tell that he was a kind man behind all of the bluster. Putting away the rest of his lunch, Aron returned back to work.

The hours slowly ticked by as Aron lost himself in his work.

[My mom keeps telling me to look into the job opening at the library.] Aron thinks to himself. [The pay is worse and they have less hours available but it might just beat working at this crapshoot. I just can’t envision myself working there. Sitting in some dusty old building filling books all day, wait.. do we still use the Dewey Decimal system? God, it’s been years since school, I’d have to relearn it all over again. I’m sure it won’t be that hard to do, just.. a slight inconvenience.]

Lost in his thoughts, he tossed the box he was holding behind him onto the conveyor belt. Realizing a little too late that he had misjudged the weight and had thrown it waaay to hard. That’s the thing about working in shipping, 99% of the time you can’t see into the boxes to tell how heavy the items are. Some boxes are incredibly small and heavy, while others are rather large and light. This box was the latter.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

As the wayward box sailed through the air, Aron could only watch in horror as his manager turned the corner, and was promptly smacked directly in the face.

WHACK!

The box breaks open. The tape, apparently tired of its role as an adhesive, snaps as hundreds of packing peanuts burst forth creating a brief snowfall of white crinkling snowflakes. The sight is short lived however, as a rather expensive looking vase also crashes to the floor. Shattering into tiny glittering pieces.

Without a word his manager began to walk towards where Aron was standing. Like a parent about to yank scissors out of an irresponsible child’s hands. he ripped Aron’s badge off of his neck.

“Out.” he barked.

“Sir, it was an honest mistake! I.. I uh didn’t mean to throw it that hard! I.. I”

“You’re done Aron.” his words cold and level “First, you’ve been behind all week and now. this. shit.” he gestures wildly at the faux winter wonderland behind him.

“Grab your shit and leave, I don’t want to see you on my floor tomorrow.”

The walk to his car felt like an eternity. He had been hoping to at least start applying at other places before quitting. Now that library position was starting to seem a little more tempting.

“Ok, ok” he breathed as he opened the car door and sat down. [I’ve got just over a thousand in the bank, that’s enough for rent and utilities... probably... If I budget my money right, skip some meals and the like, I should be able to make it to next month. That is, if I can get that library position before the end of next week.]

Starting the car, Aron began to drive, the engine making a high-pitched squeal as it starts.

[I still need to get that looked at] Aron thought to himself. [Just another thing I’m going to have to spend money on.]

Stopping at the gas station before finally heading home, Aron triple checks his account to ensure he had the money to spend. It was probably a waste, but it was sort of a tradition. Every night after work he would stop at this specific gas station and buy a candy bar and a drink. It was a small comfort after working all day on the floor. As he entered he noticed the regular cashier he had grown accustomed to was not there. Normally it was Sam. A young girl working to help pay her way through college. Instead, an old man with a short thin white beard sat behind the counter. He was lazily flipping through a magazine as Aron entered, not paying him any mind. Grabbing his normal fare Aron walked up to the counter.

“Hard day?” The man questioned without looking up from his reading material.”

“Ya, kinda just lost my job so.. not too great.”

“Hmm.” The man appears to be lost in thought as he begins scanning items.

“Here.” he finally says, Throwing a small wrapped candy onto the counter. “On the house.”

Still not making eye contact, the old man returns to his reading. Thanking him before turning to leave, Aron looks at the candy. It was a simple purple wrapper, with what appeared to be a litany of cartoonish tentacles on it. In large yellow lettering it read, “TASTE THE POWER OF THE OLD ONES! EVERY MORSEL IS A FLAVOR OF A LIFETIME!”

“Huh.” Aron mutters before popping it into his mouth.

His face scrunches up into a grimace [Jesus that’s sour.] thinking as he begins to chew. [It’s not bad, but seriously! Aren’t they supposed to have a warning on these things?]

Looking back down at the wrapper Aron could almost swear that the tentacles seemed to writhe slightly as he chewed. [Wait, is this one of those things where the image shifts when you move it?] Bringing it in for a closer inspection, the tentacles make tiny movements even as he holds it as still as possible. [Hey, now that’s a cool trick!] Marvelling at the presentation, Aron turns around from his car to walk back to the gas station. [I wonder if that guy has more of these, John would get a kick out of this!] Looking up from the wrapper, Aron finally realizes something has changed.

Standing in complete and utter darkness, the gas station and the parking lot nowhere in sight, Aron begins to swivel his head left to right in a panic.

“Uuuhhh.. hello?”

In a deep, slightly robotic voice, he received an answer.

/// INITIALIZING \\\