Anderson was a fat little man and nobody liked him. Crinkled and greasy strands of hair were combed over from the back of his neck to the top of his skull to cover up his glaring bald head. At work he constantly slurped and rattled orange tic-tacs in his putrid mouth in a vain attempt to mask his horseshit breath. When he spoke to his coworkers at the office they always pulled away from him as he talked at them while standing as close as possible. Globs of vile slime spit and sputtered from his lumpy lips and he was always oblivious to the look of dread in his victim’s eyes. There was a musky combination of sour body odor and cat piss oozing from his pores at all times. Anderson didn’t have any friends.

Lilian was tall and pretty and everyone in the office liked her. She had beautiful curly locks of strawberry-blonde hair that settled on her petite shoulders and cradled her delicate neck. Her stunning emerald eyes twinkled under the florescent lights of the office and people couldn’t resist coming over to her periodically to talk just so they could stare at her. She always smelled of sweet vanilla and seemed to hypnotize anyone who spoke to her. Most who weren’t lost in her eyes were fixated upon her plump pink lips and the softly spoken words that escaped them. She had more friends than she could count.

When the shooter stormed into the office everyone rushed to the nearest stairwell, but the door had been blocked from the inside. This attack was premeditated. The man, dressed in all black with a flaming skull face mask hiding his identity, first marched his way into the managers’ offices one by one. He unloaded round after round into each of their bodies as they tried hiding under desks or behind leather couches. Five managers were killed that day.

While the maniac was dealing with them it gave the office staff enough time to attempt an escape. But with both stairways locked from the inside, they had to rely on the one elevator down the hall. The crowd of terrified workers rushed in panic to the elevator as the gunman began firing in their direction. Four more people—three women and a man—were killed. Five more were severely injured. This left seven who made it to the elevator unharmed. Only, there was an eighth person already on the elevator by the time everyone got there. That person’s desk happened to be closest so they were able to get on before the rest made it.

The seven remaining staff made it to the elevator just as the doors were closing. The person inside saw them but did not hit the open door button—choosing to save their own life instead of letting the rest on. One of the office workers frantically pushed the call button right as the doors sealed shut, but it was too late. They would have to wait for the elevator to go all the way down to safety and back up again before they could get on. The massacre would be over by then. That is, until a hero stepped out from the crowd.

The gunman reloaded as he closed in on the horrified group. But just as he pointed the rifle he was hit twice in the face. First with the stench of orange flavored horseshit, then with a chubby set of sweat covered knuckles. The gunman crumpled to the ground with his rifle sliding a few feet away from him.

He scrambled for the weapon but was caught in the stomach with a fat foot. The gunman curled up into the fetal position as his assailant went for the rifle. BANG!

Anderson slumped to the floor and let out a gurgling groan. He was dead almost instantly from a pistol shot to the chest. The gunman had the handgun tucked into his waistband and pulled it out when he had curled up into himself. He picked himself and the rifle up off the ground. He marched towards the group of office workers once more, but just as he fired the rifle the last of them had piled into the elevator. They were safe thanks to the short fat man they despised so much.

The gunman—an ex employee with a grudge—had put the pistol in his mouth when he heard the police sirens getting closer. As for the person who had closed the elevator on everyone—trapping them all to die—she took Anderson’s place as the most despised person in the company once work resumed a month later. Lilian didn’t last long after that. Nobody could look her in those beautiful green eyes anymore, because they all knew the kind of person who hid behind them.


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