The racing of my heartbeat, running on the adrenaline-high of finally telling my boss to go fuck himself, it was immense. My palms were so clammy they started to darken my blue jeans as I feverously rubbed them down. A ringing noise rang in my ears that combined with the dings of the elevator taking me down the skyscraper’s edge.
I was mere moments away from resigning, to have my boss beat me to the punch was a bit deflating I must admit. Emotions were high all around, if it weren’t for his glass walls he’d have felt right to hit me there and then for acting against him, a man who had most likely been fed shaved gold and cleaned head to toe by maids his whole life.
Three years, it started out fine, but they always put on a good front to reel in the easy fish. It didn’t take long to see all the snakes in the fields that were our offices. Rumours of demotions, forced unpaid overtime, under-desk arrangments to let some progress ahead of those who didn’t want to spend five minutes a day on their knees.
Empire Rize, a shitty company that shovels enough lives and bribes to hide the hypocrisy of their well-mannered charities and fundraisers. My “promotion” to analyst only showed how deep they had dug themselves into their vaults of green victories. 30% to the head honcho, another 20% divided out to his underlings and desk goblins, 20% to whatever offshore accounts they used to funnel more money their way, as far as I could tell only a crappy 8% actually went to where it was supposed to.
Dean Richards, the cunt at the top, with enough money hidden in his couch at home to probably buy a restaurant in the good part of town. His painted-black hair and golden-laden hands were enough to show how much of a prick he was, but little ol' 20-year-old me needed the cash. I bet none of his current teeth are his own, whiter than snow and straighter than the rulers lining his desk.
The final ding of the elevator was all that was needed to bring my mind away from the storm that erupted within his office. Forget the jackass, move on, flipping burgers, delivering mail, anything is better than working for a guy who stood in front of a crowd “apologising” about his lack of power to save a local business that only saw a grand from its charity run.
Stepping through the open doors of the elevator, strolling through the entrance hall, it was the last walk of shame I had to do in this building. No more would my sweat and sore ankles be put towards this place shutting places down while they guzzled charity wine.
I give a final wave to the receptionists that are totally unaware of what goes on above, looking only at security cameras, appointment timers, and signing people in. Snapping my ID off my neck I shove it into my jean pocket, loosen my grey tie and unbutton the top button of my white dress shirt.
If it weren’t for all the emotions flooding my body, I would have thought my clothes were choking me, but it was just a backlash of my shouting and my heart wanting to exit through my throat.
Feeling around in my black jacket, I pull out my wallet to see what my menu would be tonight. Declining the last drinking session meant I could afford almost anything as my own notes filled my wallet. I was wise to save in preparation for a rainy day, as today would be a hell of a rain from getting “fired.”
Taking a seat at a nearby bench I take some time to cool off, my head felt a bit fuzzy so I thought it best. Don’t want to collapse on my walk to a nearby fast-food joint to replace my anger with the endorphin rush of oil and salt. Chicken sounds good, fried, heavily spiced, sitting aside curled fries with melted cheese. Hell, milkshake to boot, no need to worry about the backhanded comments about my “presentability” anymore.
It wasn’t that late either, the sun still shone up above as it was nearing 2pm. Looking to my phone I see my own face reflected back at me. My amber eyes shone against the lights, with parts of my black hair dangling down as I stared at my screen. Would this be the moment my greys started to sprout?
If I remember correctly, there was an underground shopping mall here. Don’t think I had ever visited it, assuming the stairs leading down were to trains. I only ever came into the city for work anyways, and it was often too late afterwards to visit the underground. What better time to visit somewhere new than after leaving somewhere old.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Taking one final look up at the Empire Rize, I think a final slew of swears in its name and that of its owners. Damn this place, damn it all to hell. If it were to crumble to dust from its greed and control over others, I’d feel no sympathy. Tear it down, let their “Empire” fall.
I shouldn’t have thought anything.
As my feet started to take me towards the stairs to the underground, the ground under my feet began to shake and quiver. Rumbling coursed through my legs and into my torso as the harsh grinding sound of rock could be heard beneath.
“Earthquake!” one person shouted in the distance.
Followed by cries of fear, shuffling of footsteps as people tried to find a table to hide under, outside.
It took all I had to stand up as the tremors became worse, the earth-shattering low-rumble sound turned a somewhat dull city into what felt like a haunted hell of demonic voices. The roars of the earth itself yelling at me, maybe even telling me to hide from its anger. Forcing my feet to continue onwards, I stepped here and there, stumbling around but never falling.
The next catastrophe to add to the earthquake was that of debris from above, the nearby buildings having air conditioners rain down, shattering glass raining death to those below. I couldn’t help but do something to protect myself, whipping my jacket from my back I hung it over my head as a makeshift barrier against smaller debris, especially that of the shivs the windows created.
Thuds and scrapes against my jackets only told so much of the damage I would have taken otherwise, but my jacket wasn’t big, barely longer than my hip, so my arms still took several shards to the sides.
Wincing in pain as blood flowed from me to the floor, I continued moving, I remembered reading one time that tunnels and structures underground were the safest during earthquakes. I could only hope my memory didn’t pick it up from a damn anime that lacked realism.
The low rumbling sound was combined with more shattering of glass, falling debris smashing to the floor, alongside a stampede of feet from those searching for shelter. Now the others near me realised the same as I, the underground would be safer. As if following the lead sheep, the footsteps corralled in my direction.
It seemed my earlier argument with my ex-boss had rid my body of its energy and adrenaline for the day, as the people coming up from behind me were much faster than I was at this point. Shoulders bumped into shoulders, feet kicked into my legs, and I was finally pushed to the floor as the masses ran to the underground.
Scrambling to get to my feet, I found that I was now at the back of a crowd that were forcing their way into a cramped stairwell. The rumbling grew fiercer under my feet as I heard eruptions of air and water, crashing through newly-formed cracks in the pavement. Pipe networks getting hit by shattering rock, or crushed under the weight of new debris.
The situation continued to worsen as the debris from up above fell downwards in larger clumps, a massive shadow forming over me. Darting my head upwards, I saw but a glimmer of the remaining sun as it was blocked by the towering mass of Empire Rize. I had wished for it to fall, and indeed it was going to, right on top of me. Its straight structure turned into the Leaning Tower of Pisa, and proceeded onwards as it continued to rotate itself down to me.
I started to sprint, only for the floor to open up a new maw to swallow me whole. Large chunks of brick and rock hit against my back, my arms, my legs. Burying me atop a slowly forming hole. Pushing back as best I could I was able to shift some of the rock, but the darkness was approaching quicker and quicker, a final glance to the skies showed to me that blanket of death instead of a vision of heaven.
The rumbling, the crashing, the cracking, and even the cries of fear. The world was full of disastrous noises as the wave of wind from a falling building pushed me ever deeper into the earth. Before it would have squashed me against the pavement, the ground beneath me finally gave way as it all fell through, including me.
Falling for what felt like an eternity, I saw my life flash before my eyes, crowded with thoughts of the past three years working for the building that was going to be my death, just as it was the death for many people and companies before me. Only now, it was a murder by their hands, and not by their actions. Hitting my head against a mass of rock I am knocked unconscious.
When my eyes open next, everything is dark, the sun completely blocked out by the rubble from above. The last action of Empire Rize was to take away the audience for its light, and then the sun went out. A glimmer of hope still shimmered though, a last lick of life, a single beam reflecting off of my ID card that had found itself hung from another part of the debris, my image covered in blood and next to it “Zeke Wilson”, still untouched by blood.
Pinned to the floor from rubble and rock, I was still alive, if not for the pain surging across my body. Broken, bruised, and stabbed. My arm was free to wiggle around, but barely more than that. Coughing and spewing onto the floor a few inches from my face I am just able to yell out.
“Help! I’m stuck!”
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