End Of Man: Chapter 1, Jack

Chapter 1: Jack

The surreal feeling that accompanied staring at the elevator doors washed over Jack. The methodical "dinging" of the elevator approaching his floor echoed through his mind. Jack Tarrant used to work in this office building. "Used to" even though he was standing on the 9th floor waiting for the elevator to arrive, because he'd just been laid off in this wave of "strategic budget optimization", his useless wad of a supervisor had called it.

"Ding" the elevator rang out again announcing its arrival to the 12th floor. Jack looked down at the rumpled box cradled in his arms. Full of the detritus one gathers over years of working in a cubicle developing the e-commerce site of an overrated, overpriced, global furniture and nick-nack brand destined to go bankrupt. An inventory of the contents in the box brought back a wave of memories.

A Swingling stapler he had no idea where it came from. A couple of action figures from various games he had used as decorations. "Ding". His mug. Some half finished puzzles. "Ding". A veritable graveyard of post-it notes. A trophy of a man holding a pot with "Mind Blowing Chili" engraved on its stone base. He'd won that in the first, and only, annual office chili cook off. Several pictures of his wife and daughter at different times and places all smiling and happy memories. Even in these circumstances he couldn't help but smile. The smile was immediately replaced with a grimace. "How would Evelynn take his letting go?" He thought to himself.

"Ding." The doors slowly opened to a blessedly empty elevator car. Upon entering the elevator Jack was assaulted by the overly bright and sterile lighting. The constant flicker of one of the fluorescent bulbs seemed to pull at some primitive part of him, like fraying an edge of rope binding his sanity in place. As he turned around to face the floor he had spent so many hours of his employed life on, the doors began their slow march back together that would herald his descent to the lobby. The chaos and tumult of the other employees on the floor was interrupted as they seemed to be distracted and pulled by some unseen force to the plate glass windows overlooking the rest of the city as it sprawled below. This uncharacteristic behavior piqued Jack's interest, but not enough to spur him into action.

"Hold the door!" A panicked voice yelled out, and Jack saw breaking from his dazed fugue, a figure running clumsily to get to the doors slowly shutting the rest of the floor out of view. Jack looked around as if confused, contemplating letting the elevator just shut with him, the lone occupant. The solitude would be a welcomed retreat. But seemingly at the last moment as if against his better judgement and will. His foot kicked out between the doors, causing them to begin to retreat as if in resignation. The elevator shook a bit as the puffing man came to a stop next to Jack. He was a little taller and slimmer than Jack, but balding, panting, and sweating a bit from his small hasty jaunt to make it to the elevator. He thought he could remember his name if he tried hard enough. "Dave? Darren maybe?" He wondered.

"Thanks man. For a second I thought you were just going to let it close on me. You got me there." Dave, or Darren maybe, said between breaths smiling as the doors finished closing and the elevator gave a jolt beginning its descent.

"Ding 8."

"Ding 7."

"Oh, it's you. Jack right? You just got canned didn't you? Man that sucks. You even had the good cube." Dave, or Darren maybe, nervously stated. Obviously trying to make small talk.

"Ding 6."

"Yeah, that's me. Canned." Jack replied with little emotion. His mind clearly elsewhere.

"Ding 5." He was starting to regret holding the door for this man. They rode the rest of the way down in less than companionable silence.

"Ding 4."

"Ding 3."

"Ding 2."

"Ding 1." They had finally arrived at the ground floor, the lobby. The doors began to slide slowly open with the squeal of years of use. The scene that was revealed as the doors parted drove everything else out of Jack's mind. It was only mere seconds but his heart instantly began to race as he took it all in. The plate glass windows facing the street were completely shattered. There was blood everywhere, in streaks, in splashes, and in pools. There were people laying on the ground motionless with others hovering over them like animals. There were some moaning in pain trying to crawl away to safety as others were slowly lumbering after them reaching and clawing at the air between them. A lone security guard had backed behind the reception desk and was firing his service pistol into the chest of a slowly approaching woman. It seemed to have little to no effect on her more than making her midsection quiver under each impact as she gained ground on the guard. He could make out what sounded like an alarm wailing in the distance. Was that a bank? his mind reeled. More people spilled into the opening in the windows, some running with fear plain in their gaze, others in that unhurried way he'd seem some of those already inside move with. and a few sprinting animalistically.

"Well, I hope you have a back up plan or nest egg. Me, I'm about to sell the Crypto I've been hanging on to after that last spike. That'll set me up for a while!" Dave, or Darren maybe finished excitedly. Jack could still feel his eyes on him oblivious to the hellish play unfolding mere feet from them. Jack didn't know when he had started but was frantically smashing the 9th floor button trying to remain as still as possible. Choosing that floor out of habit more than anything else. And knowing it should be safe considering they had just come from there. As he was looking down at the button panel making sure his finger was finding its home, he heard the realization dawn on his companion.

"What the fuh...." He felt the warm spray of something wet and sticky on his right as the sentence was abruptly cut off from finishing. The doors began to slowly close again, thankfully. As they were closing he saw the guard still pulling the trigger of his firearm cursing. It clicked harmlessly as his ammunition was spent, the woman reached across the desk and grabbed his outstretched wrist with both hands and began pulling him toward her. Her eyes were empty and full of need at the same time. The guard began to wrestle with her trying to regain control. She instead lunged forward and sank her teeth into his forearm. He screamed, dropping his weapon and tried to pry his arm from her mouth. One of the sprinters, a man whose face was a bloody torn mess came from the side and leapt over the reception desk shoulder tackling the unaware guard driving him to the once pristine tile floor. Jack lost sight of the man, his vision obscured by the desk. But the screams he could make out. Those were the screams of someone in the most imaginable pain. The surrounding people closed in on the man behind the desk and began to fall on him, drowning him out in the pile of human flesh.

The doors clanked shut, closing the vision off for good. And Jack felt the all too familiar sickening lurch as they began to climb.

"Ding 2." Jack let out the breath he was holding. But the screaming hadn't stopped. If anything it had gotten louder, clearer, sharper, and more real in this tight space. Looking over to where the other man should have been given the reason for the commotion. He was on the ground back against the wall with someone or something clamoring all over him. Dave's, or Darren's, legs were thrashing beneath him, slipping on the freshly waxed floor that now had a healthy coating of his own blood. He was bleeding from too many wounds to count. Most notably he had deep scratches from the top of his balding scalp all the way down to his chin and half of one of his cheeks had been ripped away. He had his arms outstretched holding this man creature at bay. The thing was snarling and frothing, snapping its jaws trying to find purchase on any flesh it could. But it had those same dead eyes. Its hands were flailing and grasping at Jack's co-worker.

"Help me! Get it off!" He desperately cried. It was at that moment that his arms gave out and the creature fell on him clamping its jaws down on his neck and shoulder. Blood oozed from the new wound and the screaming renewed in earnest. Jack sprang into action. Still holding the box of belongings, he pulled the trophy free and let the box fall. He swung with all his might at the back of the man monster's skull. A loud bone crunching squelch issued but he didn't stop swinging his makeshift cudgel like a hammer. Again and again he swung his weapon. He wasn't sure when he had started yelling like a roaring animal. In the end both his acquaintance and the attacker lay motionless, the floor of the elevator covered in blood and gore. Completely spent Jack looked at his hands, covered in ichor, one still clutching the remains of his trophy, now a bent heap that happened to end in stone.

"Ding 9." The doors started to open to his floor and the people crowded at the windows turned to the elevator in surprise. A loud and wet thud rang out as Dave or was it Darren's body slumped off the elevator door that was holding him up and partly into the office floor. Their looks immediately changed to shock and horror, followed by screams at the sight of him and what lay within the elevator in stark brutal contrast to the rest of the floor, with him still grasping his trophy.