Work Text:
He reached forward, looking for the shining piece of metal in between the teeth that he’d seen before, wondering what it was he’d forgotten-
Snap.
Ah. This ending.
He didn't even know why he bothered to feel the pain anymore.
The teeth closing around him wasn’t new, though the floors did like to change from time to time. But the ultimate goal was the same: find the floor. Go to the next. Find the clue. Go to the next. On and on it went in unending repetition, until he made it to the ninth floor and completed his paperwork in adequate time with acceptable quality. The elevator wouldn't get as stuck as often as it used to, something he was eternally grateful for. Of course, it didn't stop the nightmares which haunted his sleep when it should have been a respite from the hell his very obligation was.
It didn't stop the cutthroat moments of cruelty he inflicted upon others, either.
He sighed, waiting for everything to reset as he died once more. This was one of the more brutal deaths, in a series of horrible and wretched deaths he felt every other day. All in the name of corporate support, he supposed. The big family who’d grown entirely numb to pain and only worked for complete selfishness to get ahead. He’d joined that family well enough despite his reservations, well enough to the point where he might as well be branded by the company instead of his name.
Here, he didn't have a name. Nobody did.
He glanced over at Coworker-not the most elegant, but he’d refused to properly give him his name without changing it every single time, so Coworker it stayed. He was grinning the same obnoxious, unbothered smile that perfectly showcased every one of his teeth that used to annoy him. Now, while it wasn’t necessarily helpful, it was familiar. Even though Coworker was completely incapacitated during the elevator due to what appeared to be trauma induced amnesia, he could at least provide some humour.
He wouldn’t admit it was nice to have Coworker around sometimes.
But then Coworker said, “That lighter is a one of a kind-” and then he remembered why he wanted to feed him to the hole on floor two.
This was going to be a long day.
.*.*.
“Good work,” Normal Guy said with a big smile as he handed in his paperwork.
He nodded, averting his eyes as he stared down at the airborne expanse of the office. They didn’t do much of anything. Initially, he wondered if this was just an organ harvesting harm-it would at least provide an answer to why he needed to have a functional left kidney-but it was mostly just…basic programming. It required as much thought as a point and click escape room.
He wouldn’t admit he used to take hours on those.
…Back in the good old days.
At least now he didn’t feel the constant urge to throw up every time someone addressed him by a name that felt wrong. He didn’t have one to be addressed by. He supposed it could be better, feeling annoyance as opposed to feeling an underlying sense of displacement every single time someone talked to him. At Corporations Corp-a ridiculous name, but completely recognizable by the public for their high wages-he was simply addressed by “employee”, or not addressed at all.
It was a different kind of wrong.
His nightmares had started up again.
A wedding aisle, bride stained with blood.
A boy, laid out at the bottom of a staircase with his neck twisted all wrong.
A burning fire, the cool trickle of blood rhythmically dripping down from his left ear.
Somehow, he couldn’t find it in him to flinch.
He was so exhausted.
Unfortunately, that was just how the world worked.
He stared at the ceiling, another sleepless night added to his mental tally. He’d have to go to work soon.
He needed this job.
…
He needed this job.
*.*.*
Coworker stared at him as he clicked onto the elevator. “You look horrible.”
He blinked. Rarely did Coworker ever mention anything other than himself. If he did, it was usually about incompetency (as if he was one to talk). A moment of care from the man who cared about nothing except himself was unfathomable.
Coworker squinted at him before saying with his rich boy voice, “You must have forgotten the concealer to hide those eye bags today, Newbie.”
Of course.
He ignored him.
As if they could have a genuine moment.
He ignored Coworker’s remark as he hurried into the elevator, pressing the close button before he would further delay the inevitable. It used to be something he’d dread; now, it was something that needed to be completed in the quickest manner possible. Coworker would make unhelpful comments, he’d die a couple of times, and then they’d make it to the ninth floor and pretend to do work that helped the world.
In his hurry, he missed the frown on Coworker’s face.
But the elevator was moving before any feelings would be felt.
There was something…off, today. Something quietly detached in an incomprehensible manner, flickering just out of reach to where neither of the two would find an answer. Of course, this was assuming he was looking for one. He’d long forgone any possibility beyond the numb horrors his commuting required. The elevator was a task to be completed, and tasks rarely waited for personal opinions.
He just needed to get through the day.
But that frown had existed. A moment broken in a pattern.
He knew what he was supposed to usually do first. He needed to get a sleeping pill.
He ignored the sitting feeling of dread in his stomach, chalking it up to his usual trepidation.
So he pressed the button to floor four on the door.
And blinked when there was nothing at all.
No, that wasn’t quite true; there was still the elevator, and Coworker, and all the things that ought to be. But the doors didn’t open. The horror wasn’t there.
This was odd.
He turned to Coworker and said, “Um. Do you-”
“Any ideas, Newbie?”
Coworker wore the big, bright smile that telemarketers had (it wasn’t something to be seen, as opposed to their blinding tone conveying the same energy), and the one he usually had. But he was hesitating, a flicker of uncertainty that he’d definitely never seen before.
And then he fully turned around and saw the door.
His door.
If he could ever claim that part of him.
This floor hadn’t happened since his interview.
And all of a sudden, he was brought back to the first moment of panic, the rush of pain and shock when he’d first died.
What the fuck?
Why now?
Coworker stared at him, and it looked like there was borderline concern trying to escape his carefree expression as he said, “Um…Newbie, you good?”
No.
Was-oh God, why-right now?
He took a breath, held it in. Waited for a moment. Let the air flow out of his chest in a steady stream.
Did it again.
Then he nodded.
They both knew it was a lie.
But nothing doing, anyway.
He had to open the door.
It was almost funny, how this was what got a reaction out of him nowadays. He felt like a child.
…He supposed it wouldn’t be the most inaccurate thing.
As he reached out, still taking in air and letting it out in a manner far calmer than he felt, Coworker’s voice wavered uncertainly. “Do you…need to open that door? You look a bit knocked.”
It was the most thoughtful thing Coworker had ever said.
He shook his head, feeling a little bit more assured, as he steeled his nerves and clutched at the doorknob. He just needed to walk in there. It was just a room.
It wouldn’t hurt him like it did back then.
He twisted.
The door opened.
The inside was just as he remembered it. Painstakingly bare other than some obligatory family pictures, the covers on the bed smoothened out to hide uncertainty, the lamp in the corner of the room on. He’d been told if he let the dark get to him, the devil would come to swallow him whole.
…His cross was still hanging above his bedside.
The floors creaked loudly with the weight of a person not meant to return.
“Hello?”
His mother.
Her sickly sweet voice still made his breath hitch.
“Are you awake, [_]?”
He froze, foot still outstretched with the intent to take another step.
He hadn’t been called that name in a long time.
He needed to turn back, he couldn’t come back here after-
“What the fuck?”
Coworker’s booming voice echoed against the wooden walls, and he hurriedly made a quieting motion as he swallowed the urge to throw up.
There were so many ways for Coworker to die here.
Coworker didn’t seem to fully get the memo. The idea was for him to shut up and go back. Instead, he made a motion like he wanted to walk further.
Had this happened the last time they were here?
He wanted so badly to say no. But Coworker didn’t listen to reason, and he never remembered any of this anyway. It was fine.
(it wasn’t, but he couldn’t say that against the cross commanding suffocating silence in the room)
“You aren’t supposed to be up right now, sweetie.”
He tiptoed to his bed, where he knew he hid all his secrets. Where he hid his stash.
Coworker looked around shamelessly, and he winced at the groans the floor made. If his parents found out he was awake at night…
The devil walked at night.
Or so he was told.
He found the orange tube. Tipped it over.
…There was just one left.
He kind of wished there were more.
“If you’re not in bed, child, I’ll make our...prayer session extra long tomorrow.”
He palmed the pill. It was time to leave.
He nodded to Coworker. Coworker stepped back.
They left the room behind them.
The door was closed.
They stood in the elevator in uncharacteristic silence. Usually Coworker wouldn’t let anything stop him from talking for more than five seconds.
Then-
“Who was she?”
He breathed. In. Hold. Out.
Coworker pressed on. “Isn’t that supposed to be your room? She looked like a sister or something.”
He shook his head.
She.
That was him.
That wasn’t him.
She was what he used to be.
Coworker frowned. “Usually we’re allowed to the top floor immediately. This is freaky, don’t you think, Newbie?”
He didn’t know the half of it.
Coworker hadn’t…ever acted like that, in the long time they’d maintained this strange acquaintance. Has it been a year?
He didn’t know.
He was too focused on making it through the day to think farther of anything else.
The elevator lurched.
He was still waiting for Coworker to give a speech highlighting his own greatness, or a complaint about the air filter, or some round-about way of flaunting his money.
Instead, he was quiet.
It was unsettling.
The silence sat between them.
Finally, Coworker spoke.
"You know."
He immediately regretted encouraging conversation by looking up.
Coworker rubbed the back of his neck.
An oddly nervous gesture.
"We could've just...not gone in there."
He blinked.
"What?"
"The room."
Coworker looked away.
That was somehow less helpful.
He waited.
Coworker sighed dramatically, as if it was difficult to physically force the words out.
"You looked like you were about to pass out."
"Oh."
A pause.
He stared.
Coworker stared back.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Coworker ruined it.
"Honestly, it's kind of sad how scared of a bedroom you are."
There he was.
Back to normal.
The strange knot in his chest loosened despite himself.
Coworker grinned triumphantly.
"As expected, my expert people-reading skills remain unmatched."
He rolled his eyes.
Coworker had the emotional intelligence of a decorative houseplant.
And yet.
He had never prodded around too hard to try and decipher the happenings of Coworker’s mind. It didn’t need a genius to find there would only be mirrors starring reflections of himself. Throughout all of these interactions, he would lead the way through the puzzles. He would be the one to face the pain.
He would be the one who had to die.
Sometimes he wondered if this place was real. If all this was real and not some sign he was slowly going insane.
Well, he was.
It was unknown if it was the effect or the cause of his current occupational status.
This change was odd, though.
It wasn’t unwelcome.
But it made his chest tighten just a little bit more when Coworker forgot it all again.