Skip

“No, no, no!” I repeated screamed at the scene before me. “What happened?” I dropped the knife instantly. There was no other living being In the room to answer my question. I frantically tried to rub the wet and dried blood from my hands, both seemed thicker than I imagined it would be. The bodies of my co-workers littered the floor, all sliced and diced, leaking into the dingy green and brown carpet. The fluorescent lights were darkened in most parts of the office while flickering randomly in others - I woke up to a horror scene.

“Oh hell no!” I exclaimed, frantically getting to my feet to avoid a stream of bodily fluids draining in my direction. Upon gathering my balance, I kicked the murder weapon from nearby and tried to gather my thoughts. Pounding my fists against my temples only intensified the mind-blowing migraine i already had.

“There has to be a valid explanation,” I reasoned with myself. “Maybe this is some kinda messed up joke.” But it wasn’t April the 1st or anywhere near Halloween, and the lifeless bodies were a clear indication of the seriousness of the situation at hand. I zoned out while staring at the icky colored carpet, the same carpet that I’ve analyzed for the past 5 years while working this horrid job.

I just gotta remember. I closed my eyes tight and tried to recall. Nothing. The Skip pill made it damn-near impossible. My cousin told me about Skip the week prior - said it made the day fly by in a flash, like a literal blink could be the duration of an entire workday depending on the dosage. My cousin had a friend who knew a dealer, and said that they could sell me some. I was skeptical, but my first trip was spectacular. All I could remember was blinking once, and I was gone, then blinking again to return. Upon my return, a full 6 hours were gone - jury duty was awesome!

I knew that this was the drug of choice for my workdays. Not only would entire days disappear before my eyes, but all of my work got done while I was “gone.” How could you beat that? There was nothing better, especially for someone who hated their jobs as much as I did. As if the redundancy of my daily tasks wasn’t enough to drive me crazy, my co-workers were the worst. They always demanded full conversations about their pets promptly at 8 am and the favoritism between the management and base level employees was enough to make someone snap. Apparently, that someone was me.

I carefully stepped over the bodies with bludgeoned skulls and slit throats. Most workers’ face were slashed beyond recognition; did I really do this? The sound of blood squishing beneath my feet made me sick, and the last few steps to the bathroom became a mad dash - the thought of vomit mixing with all that blood…

I almost slipped on the tiled floors and barely made it into a stall before I puked everywhere. Did no one survive? The thought of identifying every body on the floor made me dry-heave the emptiness of my stomach a few times more. I pulled myself together enough to get up from the floor and carefully walk over to think sink. All of this blood… I gripped the sides of the white porcelain sink, smearing genetic evidence everywhere.

Snapping into action, I turned on the faucet and began to scrub my hands and arms. Blood stains skin, great. I didn’t know If there was a way out of this fiasco, but I knew being a large man covered in blood would not benefit me in the end. After thoroughly cleaning my hands, I splashed some water on my face to rinse off the rogue splatters of blood. I looked into my eyes; my dial acted pupils were just beginning to shrink back to normal size.

It must’ve been the Skip! It had never affected me in that way before - a killing spree? This can’t be happening. As the drowsiness of the drug and the shock of the situation wore off, I knew I had to quickly make some choices. No sirens in the distance? Does anyone even know? I could escape.

I looked down at my clothes, drooping heavily from my stature - deep shades of burgundy had begun to dry into the fabrics. There was no way I could escape looking like I bathed in a pool of blood. Jacob keeps a set of spare clothes in his office! I knew I had to act fast. I walked out of the bathroom and back into the dark office. I scanned the floor to find the best route through the carnage before I made my move. My manager, Jacob, was a full 2 sizes bigger than me, but his wardrobe was my only option.

I tip-toed over Wanda and Sarah - the gossiping duo, whose limbs now were entangled, mangled, and purple. I hopped over Carlos, the office snitch - his mouth was now exaggeratedly sliced beyond its corners into a large grin. And when I got to Jacob’s office, I found him tied to his chair and sitting upright at his desk. Stab wounds filled his chest and arms, small cuts were randomly slashed into his face - his eye balls were propped open with paper clips. I chuckled at the irony - at least he can still micromanage everyone. I opened his closet, grabbed a dingy goldenrod suit with a white collared shirt, and dressed in them as quickly as I could with shaking hands.

Off in the distance, I heard the sounds of sirens approaching - I was officially out of time. There was only one way out of the building other than through the front door - the window in the bathroom! I needed to get back to the bathroom without dirtying my new set of clothes and without leaving bloodied footprints to my escape. I slid my feet back into my original soiled shoes while I carried Jacob’s extra pair. The bathroom was at the rear of the building. So as the police entered through the front door, they would be aghast at the carnage before they though to look for a suspect - there lay my advantage.

I carefully made my way back to the bathroom door, removed my shoes and stepped onto the tile. I quickly replaced my shoes wit Jacob’s, and ran over to open the window at the building’s rear wall. As I quietly slid through it, I could already hear the boots of multiple men coming through the front lobby. I ran a small distance and hid behind a dumpster not far away. I needed to make sure they didn’t have any officers searching around the building before I made my move. As long as I got far away enough from the scene of the crime, no one should suspect me. At least until they found my fingerprints on the knife and probably imprinted on the skin of each victim’s bodies.

This was not my fault, and I needed a way to prove my innocence. It was the Skip, and the only person who could prove that was the dealer. What was his name? Shane? Shawn? Either way, I had to find him, and I needed to do it quickly. Every moment that passed, the police were closer to naming me as a murderer and starting the manhunt to find me. I took my chance - quickly standing from behind the dumpster and straightening my extra large suit upon my slim figure, I inconspicuously walked in the opposite direction the building. I made it a few blocks away before I began a jog, which eventually turned into an all-out sprint.

I temporarily had my freedom but had to move quickly to clear my name. My immediate destination, as a soon-to-be wanted murderer, was to bring the trouble right to the the dealer’s front door.