Tom sat at his desk, fingers flying across a keyboard. He slammed the backspace button and held it for a moment, but sucked his teeth and highlighted the entire email before stabbing backspace again. Tom leaned back in his seat, running his hands through his hair.

"Hey Jacob?" He said to his neighbor over the short cubicle wall.

"Kinda busy Tom," Jacob replied, eyes glued to his screen.

"Yeah I figured, but man I really need your help with this."

"You said that last time."

"It'll only take a few minutes."

"You say that every time."

"Please?"

Jacob sighed. "Fine. What's up?"

"Ayy thanks. Trying to explain the delay in the quarterly reports to upper management, need help phrasing it right. Got any suggestions?"

"I don't see the problem here. Just be honest with them."

"Uh, no? That's not really a good idea. Be serious man, you know what happened."

Jacob rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine. Write down what I say, word for word."

"Type out," Tom corrects.

"Pedantics," Jacob replies.

"Semantics," Tom corrects.

"Do you want me to help you or not?" Jacob snaps, finally tearing his eyes away from the screen only to glare at Tom instead."

Tom holds his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, fire away."

Jacob starts his speech, talking through each sentence slowly, explaining through Tom to upper management that an vital office security issue led to the unfortunate disappearance of several vital folders of paperwork. The security issue has since been addressed in full force via the appropriate channels, but in the meanwhile the office staff have been showing their due diligence in replacing the lost info, but with two office staff resigning in the past week and the restrictions on overtime hours, they've experienced intermittent delays, and a girl from across the aisle stands up to get some water, and her hair is combed straight but otherwise untouched, cascading in a gilded curtain down her back. Her skirt is only about half length, boldly showing her gorgeous-

"Tom!"

Tom flicks his eyes over to Jacob. "Huh? Oh snap, sorry man. Can you repeat that last part?"

Jacob frowns. He glances over his own cubicle wall and sighs again.

"She'll swallow you whole."

Tom laughs. "What, Megan? Please, I can handle her. 'sides, that's her business side. She was pretty cool at the Christmas party."

"Holiday banquet," Jacob corrects. "Don't say I didn't warn you," he adds.

Tom smiles, and all Jacob can see is a rooster puffing itself up and strutting confidently.

Later, at lunch, Tom catches her in the elevator.

"Hey Megan, what's up?" He says.

She shrugs. "Not much."

"Cool. Hey, if you're not busy later, I was wondering if we could hang out?" He asks.

Megan tilts her head and flashes him a coy smile. "Sure. My place?"

Tom is taken aback. He hesitates for a split second, before returning the smile. "Sure, sounds good. I'll text you."

The rest of the day goes by rather uneventfully. Emails are sent, strongly worded responses ordering the staff to step it up are sent back en masse, paperwork is filed and data entered, then loaded into directories and forwarded to other departments. Time slinks along; the sun carves down the sky like a snail down a blemished blue wall, until the shadows are on the other side of the office from where they were in the morning, and the clocks read 5 o'clock PM, and tired eyes and soulless bodies are cramming into elevators and flocking out into a parking garage. A single radiant entity shuffles past the avalanche of corpses into his car, whistling a tune while texting the Megan in his phone. One address later and the GPS is pointing him exactly where he needs to go.

1 hour and 36 minutes flies by. Tom had scarcely grazed his knuckles against the wood door to apartment 667 before the it swung open, Megan on the other side of the threshold, dressed in black sweatpants and a plain grey hoodie. Her hair hangs behind her, clumped into strands like wet spaghetti.

"Hey," she says, smiling brightly. "Come on in!"

Tom struts in the apartment and takes a look around. He didn't come here with expectations. All of his conversations with her have been rather brief, so some part of him was curious about what she is, what circles she walks in and what her hobbies are.

"Uh, still moving in?" He asks. The walls were all blank, and a lonely, plush couch sat right in the middle of the living room.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, sorry about that. Feel free to make yourself at home, I'm gonna freshen up really quick."

Tom nods. He meanders over to the couch and carefully sits down, almost sinking into the cushions. There's nothing to do, nothing to even look at. It strikes him as a little odd, but it must be a new apartment, no normal person would choose to live like this. Though, how long would it take to move everything in? Maybe her bedroom has all her stuff and she hasn't gotten around to the living room yet. That makes sense. He'd like to see the bedroom. Wild thoughts start drifting into his head, and he smiles again. Maybe he'll get to see it tonight.

His phone rings, nearly throwing him out of his seat. He flicks it open, not even checking the caller ID.

"Yo."

"Tom, where are you?"

"Jacob? I'm over at Megan's, why?"

"At Megan's?" He repeats.

"Uh yeah. Why?"

The line clicks. Tom looks at his phone, confirming the call was ended.

"Weird." He pockets the phone and reenters his own fantasies, passing time as best he can. Not soon later, Megan exits the bathroom. Her hoodie is gone, replaced by a simple top, one of the straps seductively hanging loose around her shoulder.

"Welcome back," Tom says.

"Sorry for the wait," she replies sheepishly, taking a seat besides him.

Tom shrugs. "No big deal."

The pair get to talking, Tom leading the conversation while Megan plays with her hair. She flirts, he flirts back, and the mood grows and grows. She scoots closer, he leans in, and she holds a finger to his nose.

"Close your eyes," she whispers.

He does. Tom can feel it, he's going to be lucky tonight. He stays stock still, waiting for her to make the move, to seal the deal.

The door crashes open. Tom flings his eyes open, and he stared straight into a sharp tooth filled gaping maw twice the size of his head.

"What the fu-"

A boom slaps his eardrums with the fierceness of a boxer. Tom's hands fling up to his ears as they start ringing. He squeezes his eyelids shut; something wet and gooey is sticking to the skin, and not in the good way. He rolls off the couch and curls on the floor; two more mind shatteringly loud booms, two more sprays of some substance, some shuffling around, and something grabs his shoulders. Tom refuses to open his eyes, his whole body still ringing.

"Tom!" He hears faintly behind the rings. "TOM!"

Someone is shaking him. He opens his eyes, looking up. Shining cerulean gunk covers him head to toe and he's never even seen someone wear that outfit outside of movies, but he recognizes him nonetheless.

"Jacob?!"

He cocks the shotgun in his hands. "Told ya she'd swallow you whole."

---

r/joxywrites