MaliceInWonderland
How fine you look when dressed in Rage
Charlene huffed angrily. She always told herself that she needed to get better at reading her work email, and here was yet another lesson biting her in the ass. She hadn't read her email from the evening before; a notice that everyone was to work remotely for the rest of the week due to issues with the plumbing in the office. So there she was in said office, usually a noisy call center with almost everyone speaking on the phone, alone and surrounded by eerie silence.
She could go home, but traffic was still pretty bad right now. She'd have to wait until her lunch break to head home, which was a shitty way to spend her break anyway. Charlene was also assigned to emails today, which were already the slowest form of customer contacts, but Wednesdays were especially slow - the mid-week crawl. When connected to the office VPN, anything to do with 'personal browsing' was strictly prohibited. It wasn't so bad when her coworkers were there, as they could usually chat and make each other laugh. But the woman was literally the only one in the entire office. So, with nothing better to do, she enabled notifications on her phone if an email were to come in, and started to explore.
The customer service worker started with the usuals; the elaborately furnished break area that was affixed with ping pong tables, multiple fancy coffee and espresso machines, an arcade; all things her work was willing to pay for instead of actually paying their employees better wages. From there she moved towards the areas where other departments usually sat, she curiously looking at whiteboards and glass 'walls' with written company stats and even marketing strategies in dry-eraser. From there the woman meekly and scandalously peeked her head into private offices that were left unlocked for the cleaning staff, checking around to make sure no cameras were installed before looking at the items on a person's desk that made things a bit more personal. She judged people by their desk photos of ugly babies or cute pets, what they used to fidget with, and if they had any stashes of candy or booze.
But most strangely, Charlene found herself most drawn to the area at the foremost opposite end of the office. It was what was considered the most forbidden of areas: The IT office.
Everyone needed to make appointments to speak with the IT staff, and almost always it was either that the IT employees came to the requester, and ushered away whatever piece of technology was having the issue. Never was anyone allowed into the actual IT area, not even the massive supply closet. The IT staff were also a bit mysterious in themselves. Rarely social, they also almost always were adorned with deep bags under their eyes that no amount of the thickest rimmed glasses could hide. They barely seemed coherent most days, wondering if maybe they should rather be hooked up to a coffee or Mountain Dew machine Intravenously rather than having to make repeat trips even with the largest mugs imaginable.
To the woman's surprise… the main IT office was not only unlocked, but the main door was opened. Jackpot. Time to snoop and see all what better computers or technology was available that they were often refused. Rows of metal shelves lined a large room, stacked full of organized technology; anything from extra monitors to remote keyboards to even stashes of batteries. But at the back at the storage room was a solemn, rather ominous black door with a simple sign: No Admittance.
Below it was a handwritten scrawl on the door itself, seeming rather unprofessional: Unless It's Your Time.
Charlene tilted her head. What the hell did that mean? And if there was no admittance, why was there a keycard reader on the door?
Drawn as if in a trance, she headed towards the door. Gripping her keycard that was tied to an extending lanyard on her belt look, she raised it. Hesitating a moment, she swiped through the reader and was met with the familiar green light and soft 'beep' that let her know she was admitted. Smirking, she gripped the handle and opened the door.
Haunting sounds were the first sensory overload to hit the office worker. The familiar sounds of crying from within bathroom stalls and stairwells, groans and slamming fists down upon tables. The repetitive, soul-draining phrases of;
But there was nothing ahead of Charlene's vision, just inky blackness instead. The haunting, harrowed voices crying out were coming from… below.
So she looked down, and her eyes slowly widened in horror. Hundreds of swirling souls of her coworkers, former and current, trapped in an never-ending, tunnel-like abyss. "Becca?!" She cried out as she saw an especially close spirit - her former work bestie that quit and stormed out one day, never to be heard of again.
A wind started to come from the core of the phantasmagorical room, powerful and immediately attempted to vacuum Charlene in. She stumbled, gasping and clinging onto the doorframe. Deep at the very center of the souls she could recognize another coming towards her.
It was herself, headset strapped onto her head and reaching out towards her in an expression of despair, mascara streaming down her face. She knew what form of herself that was immediately. It was the first time that a customer made her cry on the phone, but yet was forced to keep treating the customer well despite horrid, vitriolic abuse.
But suddenly, a hand gripped her arm and nearly ripped her back onto the floor and out of the doorframe, slamming the door shut.
"Can you not read?" Came the tired, irritated voice.
Charlene whirled around to be face to face with a head of 'dyed just barely within the allowed parameters of the employee handbook' red hair, thick rimmed glasses, and a finger pointed at the sign on the door. One of the IT employees, Corinne.
"What the hell is that place?!" Charlene gasped, almost shaking and suddenly gripped the woman's shoulders.
"Isn't it obvious?" The other woman asked, arching an eyebrow and idly working to pry fingers off of her shoulders in annoyance. "It's where the souls of customer support and customer service employees go to die. Every time your soul dies a little, this is the cache that stores them. Every business that has those sorts of departments has one."
Charlene stood staring at Corinne, jaw dropped, trying to understand. "But… there were people in there that haven't worked here for years!"
"Yeah, and?" the IT worker asked banally, finally free of the other woman's hands. "Doesn't mean that the bit of their soul that died here gets to leave when they do. Why do you think the term 'soul sucking' is so common around places like this? Some companies take more than others. The longer you're here while being miserable, the more it eats from you. It's why most people never forget how awful a job can be, because it always has a part of them within its core."
Stunned to silence for a moment, Charlene had to ask again. "And you? IT?"
A long sigh came from the other woman as she took off her glasses to rub at the sore mark they left on the bridge of her nose. "IT are the bearers of the weight of these sorts of things. We're stuck just as much as you are, except we know the secrets, the inner workings, and can do nothing to stop it. Why do you think we're always so dead on our feet and look like zombies? We're the closest to the cache, the ones who can find it before anyone else. Day in and day out we see it feed on all of us and our friends, but all we can do is to try and provide tools to make everyone's lives even a little easier, at least until we can get out of here." Corinne sighed, slowly blinking her sunken eyes. "But this also means that now that you're aware of it, something will probably change for you soon."
The customer service employee's brow furrowed. "Like… what?"
"Well, most are made to realize just how miserable they are at places like these, and start working harder to try and go somewhere else, or take a leave of absence to try and heal what was lost. Or, the worst case scenario, you accept your fate and let this place continue to feed off of you until you're just a husk of a person left, letting it take over you completely and control you like a puppet, day in and day out. But being as you didn't just… throw yourself in there or let yourself be sucked in, I imagine that you're the former and not the latter." Corinne commented matter-of-factly, putting her glasses back on.
Moving her body, Corinne motioned towards the exit door. "Blah blah, the world is your burrito, carpe diem and all that shit. Now, you've already broken enough rules today, get outta here before management figures out what you saw and tries to get you to stay. I advise that you start looking for another job."
Charlene blinked. "You're not going to tell anyone?"
"Pffft." Corinne snorted, rolling her eyes. "Did you already forget what you saw? I have way bigger things to deal with than someone's self-realization about how much this job blows and what goes on around here."
It was as the woman was leaving the IT office in a state of shaken shock that Corinne called to her, making her pause and look back.
"And read your damned emails from now on."
She could go home, but traffic was still pretty bad right now. She'd have to wait until her lunch break to head home, which was a shitty way to spend her break anyway. Charlene was also assigned to emails today, which were already the slowest form of customer contacts, but Wednesdays were especially slow - the mid-week crawl. When connected to the office VPN, anything to do with 'personal browsing' was strictly prohibited. It wasn't so bad when her coworkers were there, as they could usually chat and make each other laugh. But the woman was literally the only one in the entire office. So, with nothing better to do, she enabled notifications on her phone if an email were to come in, and started to explore.
The customer service worker started with the usuals; the elaborately furnished break area that was affixed with ping pong tables, multiple fancy coffee and espresso machines, an arcade; all things her work was willing to pay for instead of actually paying their employees better wages. From there she moved towards the areas where other departments usually sat, she curiously looking at whiteboards and glass 'walls' with written company stats and even marketing strategies in dry-eraser. From there the woman meekly and scandalously peeked her head into private offices that were left unlocked for the cleaning staff, checking around to make sure no cameras were installed before looking at the items on a person's desk that made things a bit more personal. She judged people by their desk photos of ugly babies or cute pets, what they used to fidget with, and if they had any stashes of candy or booze.
But most strangely, Charlene found herself most drawn to the area at the foremost opposite end of the office. It was what was considered the most forbidden of areas: The IT office.
Everyone needed to make appointments to speak with the IT staff, and almost always it was either that the IT employees came to the requester, and ushered away whatever piece of technology was having the issue. Never was anyone allowed into the actual IT area, not even the massive supply closet. The IT staff were also a bit mysterious in themselves. Rarely social, they also almost always were adorned with deep bags under their eyes that no amount of the thickest rimmed glasses could hide. They barely seemed coherent most days, wondering if maybe they should rather be hooked up to a coffee or Mountain Dew machine Intravenously rather than having to make repeat trips even with the largest mugs imaginable.
To the woman's surprise… the main IT office was not only unlocked, but the main door was opened. Jackpot. Time to snoop and see all what better computers or technology was available that they were often refused. Rows of metal shelves lined a large room, stacked full of organized technology; anything from extra monitors to remote keyboards to even stashes of batteries. But at the back at the storage room was a solemn, rather ominous black door with a simple sign: No Admittance.
Below it was a handwritten scrawl on the door itself, seeming rather unprofessional: Unless It's Your Time.
Charlene tilted her head. What the hell did that mean? And if there was no admittance, why was there a keycard reader on the door?
Drawn as if in a trance, she headed towards the door. Gripping her keycard that was tied to an extending lanyard on her belt look, she raised it. Hesitating a moment, she swiped through the reader and was met with the familiar green light and soft 'beep' that let her know she was admitted. Smirking, she gripped the handle and opened the door.
Haunting sounds were the first sensory overload to hit the office worker. The familiar sounds of crying from within bathroom stalls and stairwells, groans and slamming fists down upon tables. The repetitive, soul-draining phrases of;
'How may I help today?'
'I'm sorry to hear that'
'Unfortunately, that's beyond our scope of support.'
'Is there anything else I may assist with?' …. 'Is there anything else I may help with?' … 'Alright... Is there anything else I can assist with…'
"I understand how frustrating… disappointing… that must be."
'I'm sorry to hear that'
'Unfortunately, that's beyond our scope of support.'
'Is there anything else I may assist with?' …. 'Is there anything else I may help with?' … 'Alright... Is there anything else I can assist with…'
"I understand how frustrating… disappointing… that must be."
But there was nothing ahead of Charlene's vision, just inky blackness instead. The haunting, harrowed voices crying out were coming from… below.
So she looked down, and her eyes slowly widened in horror. Hundreds of swirling souls of her coworkers, former and current, trapped in an never-ending, tunnel-like abyss. "Becca?!" She cried out as she saw an especially close spirit - her former work bestie that quit and stormed out one day, never to be heard of again.
A wind started to come from the core of the phantasmagorical room, powerful and immediately attempted to vacuum Charlene in. She stumbled, gasping and clinging onto the doorframe. Deep at the very center of the souls she could recognize another coming towards her.
It was herself, headset strapped onto her head and reaching out towards her in an expression of despair, mascara streaming down her face. She knew what form of herself that was immediately. It was the first time that a customer made her cry on the phone, but yet was forced to keep treating the customer well despite horrid, vitriolic abuse.
But suddenly, a hand gripped her arm and nearly ripped her back onto the floor and out of the doorframe, slamming the door shut.
"Can you not read?" Came the tired, irritated voice.
Charlene whirled around to be face to face with a head of 'dyed just barely within the allowed parameters of the employee handbook' red hair, thick rimmed glasses, and a finger pointed at the sign on the door. One of the IT employees, Corinne.
"What the hell is that place?!" Charlene gasped, almost shaking and suddenly gripped the woman's shoulders.
"Isn't it obvious?" The other woman asked, arching an eyebrow and idly working to pry fingers off of her shoulders in annoyance. "It's where the souls of customer support and customer service employees go to die. Every time your soul dies a little, this is the cache that stores them. Every business that has those sorts of departments has one."
Charlene stood staring at Corinne, jaw dropped, trying to understand. "But… there were people in there that haven't worked here for years!"
"Yeah, and?" the IT worker asked banally, finally free of the other woman's hands. "Doesn't mean that the bit of their soul that died here gets to leave when they do. Why do you think the term 'soul sucking' is so common around places like this? Some companies take more than others. The longer you're here while being miserable, the more it eats from you. It's why most people never forget how awful a job can be, because it always has a part of them within its core."
Stunned to silence for a moment, Charlene had to ask again. "And you? IT?"
A long sigh came from the other woman as she took off her glasses to rub at the sore mark they left on the bridge of her nose. "IT are the bearers of the weight of these sorts of things. We're stuck just as much as you are, except we know the secrets, the inner workings, and can do nothing to stop it. Why do you think we're always so dead on our feet and look like zombies? We're the closest to the cache, the ones who can find it before anyone else. Day in and day out we see it feed on all of us and our friends, but all we can do is to try and provide tools to make everyone's lives even a little easier, at least until we can get out of here." Corinne sighed, slowly blinking her sunken eyes. "But this also means that now that you're aware of it, something will probably change for you soon."
The customer service employee's brow furrowed. "Like… what?"
"Well, most are made to realize just how miserable they are at places like these, and start working harder to try and go somewhere else, or take a leave of absence to try and heal what was lost. Or, the worst case scenario, you accept your fate and let this place continue to feed off of you until you're just a husk of a person left, letting it take over you completely and control you like a puppet, day in and day out. But being as you didn't just… throw yourself in there or let yourself be sucked in, I imagine that you're the former and not the latter." Corinne commented matter-of-factly, putting her glasses back on.
Moving her body, Corinne motioned towards the exit door. "Blah blah, the world is your burrito, carpe diem and all that shit. Now, you've already broken enough rules today, get outta here before management figures out what you saw and tries to get you to stay. I advise that you start looking for another job."
Charlene blinked. "You're not going to tell anyone?"
"Pffft." Corinne snorted, rolling her eyes. "Did you already forget what you saw? I have way bigger things to deal with than someone's self-realization about how much this job blows and what goes on around here."
It was as the woman was leaving the IT office in a state of shaken shock that Corinne called to her, making her pause and look back.
"And read your damned emails from now on."