I sighed in annoyance and half exasperation as I reclined back to the comfort of my swivel office chair. Above the rims of my horn glasses, I kept my eyes on my laptop screen.
'How long do I have to keep up with this shit?' I think to myself, feeling the subtle urge to slam the monitor shut.
My boss, Ms. Jane, noticed my discomfort. She rose from her own chair, pushing her laptop's monitor slightly. I couldn't keep my eyes away from the two water balloons that jiggled enticingly as she stood.
She knows I'm watching. A lecherous leer tugged at her lips as she faced me.
'Yeah, I think she actually likes me watching, irrespective of location…' I thought, avoiding her gaze determinedly.
She sauntered closer, the clicking sound of her heels breaking the quiet monotony; humming of air conditioners, soft erratic chimes which indicate notifications, and the tick-tack of someone typing occasionally.
A few colleagues stole glances at me and smiled before returning to their work. Some still watched silently, already knowing what was coming.
God save their souls if she ever caught them though. Jane's a tyrant.
'I can swear she got that behavior from a certain book…I just can't prove it yet,' I wondered, recalling a certain bald dude attributed to this saying.
I sat up as the clicking noises draw closer. My eyes strayed to the lower right on my laptop screen.
'It's almost lunch time' I reveled inwardly, a smile gracing my face.
Yes, in case you're wondering. I'm the perfect personification of Belphegor.
NB: He's a Prince of Hell, infamously attributed to Sloth.
A thick strong scent of perfume draped me in a world nearly devoid of oxygen.
'She has done it again!', I moaned inwardly. I held my breath, trying to maintain my smile, and turned to her.
However, the smile soon shrank to a happy scowl.
"Sweetheart," Ms. Jane stopped by my desk, her spectacled eyes full of concern and something else I can recognize quite readily.
She slipped a hand onto my shoulder, crossing to touch my other arm. Her hand eventually reached my chest, but I didn't even shudder.
Yeah, that's the kind of things that kill women's confidence.
You may be getting a wrong signal here…I'm not gay. Let's just say I'm very familiar with this treatment.
"What's wrong?" she finally asked, slipping her second hand around my neck. She cupped my chin in her hands from behind, upsetting my glasses in the process. I shook my head slightly and Jane released her playful grip around my jaw so I can speak.
I pushed my glasses back up with an index, and leaned away from her to take a deep breath before submerging into that poisonous blend of gases.
'Hell, even the fans aren't strong enough to buffet this away!'
"I'm waiting for the lunch break," I replied, my voice urgent. edged with silent panic, like that of a drowning person.
Mind you, I'm actually in danger of drowning.
She caressed my neck 'lovingly' while I sat stiffly, stifling the urge to aid my poor nose with a handkerchief.
"You're always waiting for the lunch break, and then you do virtually nothing after work…why bother coming to work then?"
I stared up at her quizzically. She laughed, and my ears joined in on the torment too. I can't vaguely describe it, but my best try would be a cross between a frog's croak and a bitch's bark. No pun intended.
From my position below, I had an otherwise bizarre view here; her overlarge nose hairs, bulgy eyes, lengthy lashes and - the inside of her nostrils.
I quickly looked away, my breakfast churning horribly. I didn't dare wrinkle my face: Jane might like me but she could be a bit unpredictable.
What's more, she's a fierce Dominatrix. Don't ask me how I know.
"I've got bills to pay, if you don't mind. And parents to look after too."
"Oh," Jane sounded surprised, and cocked her head to my side again, her eyelids raised. "You don't look like someone who'd take on responsibilities for anyone at all."
I leaned away from her, acting flustered by the closeness. In reality, I'm not. I'm not sure how much longer my nose can hold up before it starts bleeding.
"Well…I can't avoid them…if I don't do that, no one else will," I replied, stealing a glance at my laptop to check the time again, a bitter note evident in my voice.
No, not because of the time, but because I've just recalled a bitter memory.
Hums from my colleagues arose, some interested, others surprising and even a snort of disbelief.
Yeah, I'm sure that one came from Ruth, a blond with stunted growth, masculine figure and voice, and a stinky pussy.
Yeah…we have some shitty history together, so I'm pretty sure about that one.
Jane glanced around, her eyes glinting. However, everyone here is far too used to her game to make a single slip. She turned back to me, now chuckling.
"Seems like I'm not the only one surprised here," she smiled broadly, leaning in closer. A few more inches and our lips will meet.
'Okay, now she's definitely doing this on purpose,' I kept my face neutral, playing cool. In reality, I'm not.
A heartbeat or two pass as I try to bear it. Her breath isn't bad as her perfumes, but to how humans normally smell, it still beats a record on the bad end.
Just then, my laptop chimed softly, and I inwardly released a litany of thanks to the god of time. "It's break time," I planted my feet into the ground and pushed my seat away from Jane, close enough to reach out to my desk.
I leaned sideward and use the cursor to click a red button labelled "Delete Application".
Without even switching if off, I closed the monitor gently. With a mechanical smile and a wave, I rose and walked out. Everyone apart from a certain someone, knew that I was in a haste to escape.
Honestly, it's better she never finds out. Reason? Its a long story.
Spoiler: I have no surviving ex-girlfriends.
Although, yanderes can be sweet sometimes, especially if she's far wealthier than you.
…
A few minutes later, I stood alone in the elevator and loosed my tie. The corridors were mostly empty, because to most, the break has not begun officially.
This is how my daily life looks like.
My name is Alan Greenbun. Funny, isn't it? I still blame my ancestors anyway. You can imagine the sort of ridicule I've bore throughout my life for it.
I lived a very boring life. But won't lie; I loved it.
I worked here, at the Webnovel International Headquarters, as an Editor. I review books and check their eligibility for a contract.
In fact, that's why I'm so frustrated today.
There's someone out there, who's writing a book that's so horribly lore-empty, just balderdash. That's the only thing I've seen that's more mundane than my current life.
The author has been applying for a contract, and by some cruel twist of fate, I kept on being the one to review it, and I've always and will continue to reject it.
Reason? I can't allow any more humans to be tortured by it.
I may be extensively selfish, but at times I can be generous, especially as it costs me nothing but a click.
Today, I saw the same book; same synopsis, character names and all. Only the title and book cover were changed. As per procedure, I had to read through the contract application again.
Even though I only skimmed it, it was excruciating, no less.
The elevator doors slid open, the soft hiss of the pneumatic devices filling the air, a bit too loud. I think it's faulty. I should report to the Maintenance Department.
But I won't. Not because I can't, but because it would stress me, and earn nothing but thanks; maybe an award, but no extra money.
I walk past the security counter, nodding briefly to the spectacled lady sitting there. Her hair isn't all that sleek today, I notice.
I notice a lot of things, even without meaning to. When I was younger, my parents called it a talent, but I thought it a bother. It helped me well in my past, but not any longer.
Not that it matters any longer. My parents are both senile now, they don't remember me any longer, and still think they're at home with me and the others, and not some measly old people home.
My slight bright countenance darken when I remember them.
My siblings.
Long story cut short, true love is rare, if not fictionally impossible to find in real life. I've seen enough of life to prove that to myself over and over again.
"Alan?"
I halted in surprise, turning around. That was Jane's voice. Seconds later, I stiffened, my body still half turned.
Jane stood just outside the elevator doors. Her two hands shakily gripped something, pointing straight at me.
A gun. My gun.
Yeah, I kept on a gun in my work desk. I also had one I carried around, but not at this moment.
I didn't exactly get to live a saintly life, so I had enemies. A lot more than you could think of.
'But how did she get my gun? And why's it been pointed at me?'
The security desk was one corridor away, within shouting range. But a bullet was as fast as sound.
I truly believed she would shoot to kill. Remember when I said all my exes were dead? Yeah, she killed them all. By herself no less.
"Ms. Jane," I raised my hands into the air, "What's wrong? And how did you get that?" I asked, voice laced with soothe and perfect calm. I stepped closer, hands patting the air with practiced calm.
It was remarkable how I remained at ease. I didn't know my instincts were still this strong.
"Don't come closer, you son-of-a-bitch!," Jane screamed, her Scottish accent not quite accentuating the threat and American swear words well. Her voice shook, but not her hands. "You slept with Ruth when you had me! That transgender? Of all this girls out there?!"
My mind froze for a while, processing a lot of things. Firstly, how did she find out?!
Secondly, (I had to strenuously stifle a laugh) who the hell was she calling a transgender? Well, I did say Ruth looked masculine, but she had soft assets. Hell, more mushy than Jane's!
"What are you thinking of, you idiot!" Jane's scream pulled me back to reality. Unbidden, a smile had crossed my lips while I thought of Ruth, and Jane had seen it.
"Alan," her voice dropped to a sweet sorrow filled whisper, tears welling in her eyes. "If I can't have you, no one can."
My heart breath quickened and my heart raced. I took a step back, my confident façade honed by years of practice in the gun-filled slums, shattered.
'Whenever a yandere says this, we all know what's coming next!'
But there was a problem.
"Jane, wait," I perked up, hoping this might work. "That gun has only a shot left."
Jane looked at me in askance, her eyes still teary.
"You're supposed to kill yourself after you've killed me right? Won't it be better if you kill yourself, I have a spare gun so I promise to kill myself..." my voice faltered when I saw Jane's disbelieving face.
"Don't worry about me, sweetheart. I'll turn myself in to the Cops, and spend my life sentence reliving our memories together. After all, I'm not the one who cheated."
I almost wet myself at the sweet glare she shot me after saying this.
'What sort of biased reasoning is that? Its not like I expected it to work on her anyway.'
I sighed loudly. Why wasn't anyone out for the break yet? Maybe, i should've just waited until the proper time!
An idea popped up in my mind. Maybe, I could try gaslighting her.
"Okay then, I suppose I'm ready to die." I shrugged nonchalantly and shut my eyes, waiting for Jane to rush and hug me, sobbing loudly. Might cause a scene here at work, but I was up for it.
BOOM.
I stepped backwards, but did not fall, an excruciating pain in my shoulder enveloping me. In the end, Jane's hand had shaken so much that she couldn't aim properly.
The gunshot however had attracted the security and a host of others. I watched as one bundled her away, while the other rushed to me.
"Are you okay, Sir?"
I blinked, and listened carefully.
"There you are, Alan. Or might i call you by your new name, Askin?" the same voice drawled lazily. I glanced around in alarm, realizing something strange.
I wasn't on the first floor anymore. I now stood in the office of the Webnovel board of directors, situated at the topmost floor of the building, now facing a pearl white guy who sat opposite me.
"My name is Kamirn, and I'm a god."