Chapter Text
"I see you're moving in okay?" You nodded. "And I assume that you took some time to think?"
"I did, and I really do see now that the work you're doing down here...it's going to help a lot of people." Stella smiled.
"I'm glad you see it that way." There was a bit of relief in her voice. Her eyes widened momentarily before she looked to her side. She looked a bit nervous. "Right. You have your first visitor today." When she looked at you, you could just tell she was silently wishing you luck. You couldn't tell why, not until she stepped back and a tall male stood at your door frame. He had slicked back black hair with a few growing streaks of gray. There were dark bags under his eyes, which were sharp and analyzing. They flicked around the space before burning a hole in your head. He stepped into your office as Stella took a step back. Now that you could see him better, you saw he wore a lab coat with a prominent name tag that read, "Dr. Harley Sawyer".
To say you didn't know what to expect from this job was an understatement. Yes, you knew about the experiments. Yes, you knew what they did to those kids with the exceptions of some adults. But nothing could have prepared you for your boss. Dr. Harley Sawyer. The guy was extremely contradictory, from his methods all the way down to his own personality. He was very precise in his methods and expected that everything be carried out to his personal satisfaction. He was also very composed and only spoke his mind when he felt the need to. That being said, when he did have something to say, he would not shut up. But when things went wrong, his entire demeanor went to waste and he'd throw a tantrum. It was insufferable, and even more so once he got his hands on Boxy Boo. Apparently he thought a human disposal unit would make a great source of motivation for his workers. The one thing that got you through your day was your coworkers and the coffee machine.
The guy was all kinds of unstable. He expected that everything be done to his personal satisfaction, exactly the way he intended, and there really was no pleasing the guy. When he didn't get what he wanted, he threw the equivalent of a tantrum. You and the other staff would complain during breaks and play your favorite game of "what'll piss Sawyer off today?" Then as the clock hit 5 pm, you had reached the light at the end of the tunnel. You and your coworkers would pack your things and head straight home, with the exception of a random Friday night at the bar to grab a drink or two.
After one of those mentioned Friday nights, you found yourself thinking in your bed. Stella said higher clearance spots were opening all the time and you'd likely be promoted in the first year or so of being hired. For a moment, it made you wonder why exactly there were so many openings. But something worse came to mind, having to work with Sawyer more often. That would be a worse fate than death.
"Heh. I'll have to tell the guys that one on Monday," you giggled to yourself deliriously before falling asleep.
Monday came, and you did bring that line up to the group, and yes it did elicit a few chuckles and nods in agreement. You and six other workers crowded around a round table each with either a coffee or breakfast sandwich in hand. One by one you noticed them freeze and fall silent, eyes focused on something behind you. You raised an eyebrow, still chuckling a bit, and chose to steal a glance behind you. Stella was walking with a panicked urgency in her step, something you never see unless something's gone wrong. Your eyes fell wide as your eyebrows creased with worry. The moment you looked back at your breakfast group, a hand was placed on your right shoulder
"Y/N L/N, come with me, please."
In the split second between that sentence and the moment you stood up, your shared glances said it all. You had just jinxed yourself.
You sat awkwardly on the tram ride with Stella seated across from you.
"It's alright, really, just go in and be calm." Was what Stella told you. It was made to sound reassuring, but the dark look in her eyes that had been glazed over by this forced optimism said it all. You wished you could say you were unprepared for the sight when you stepped off the tram.
Several scientists with blood draped over their lab coats, stuck in their hair, getting wiped off their glasses. Some was sprayed onto the walls, but you see the edge of pooled blood just around the corner. Just out of sight. But you knew that was where the body laid. There were blue flashes cast along the walls and the sounds of crackling tasers. You heard an inhuman screech and the rattle of chains. An experiment must have gotten out. There was another yell that was somewhat human. You say somewhat because you recognized it as Sawyer's voice and he was something else. This wasn't a tantrum, he was fuming. Stella stepped up next to you and gave you a look. Suddenly, you understood everything.
Someone died in the lab today.
So you were about to get promoted.