Return of the void

2 days.... 2 days with feverish dreams all relating to the event this Sunday, as well as Monday. I see her.. In my room.. in the corner. She waits for me. As the objective person, I am, I have been able, even in my feverish vision, to describe her even in depth. It would be a shame to call her modestly created, even blasphemy. Some would say. If I believed in God, it would be a pure image of perfection expressed in "living" form. Even though she is steel itself, her construction is out of the ordinary. Someone must have bent reality (my subconscious self) to construct the perfect hourglass shape. An expressionless face peers beyond my humanity into the deepest depths of who I am, trying to penetrate me, and create a chaotic state within those bounds, I have created to fulfill my own destiny. And she just stands! She stood there both of the days, while I lay my in bed, the sweat tingling in large drops from my forehead against the pillow. Like a statue she was watching me, beyond her facade there seemed at times, a sneer of a smile. Would she lunge a me? I was unable, because of shakes, to move my hands and tap away the sweat. I was unable to call in sick; unable to do anything at all. 

The spoils those underlings must have used the days to. Only can I imagine there is pure chaos when I enter yet another day. 

That day was to be today. Terror and turmoil would roll once I would get my eyes on any underling, not working his hardest. There was a staff meeting yesterday, or should have been, but I have received no such thing as any summary, or even a call from Paul or Brain. Anarchy! Like a crusader walking into the unholy land, crouching low, taking up the sand, and smelling it for the first time, knowing that his heritage, his true lord had been here, I felt at this point. I walked inside my lounge, and could only marvel at the marbles, as only my ancestor had been here before me, placing the foundation of truth, as it wasn't me who had built this great tower. I smelled the clean air, as close to perfection as any air would be, thanks to the plants which were well endorsed inside this house. Air-condition, fake air, had to be mixed with the true air, in exactly the right ratio, causing no harm to the employees; neither to me. 

Hell broke loose as I looked up from the tiles - All these Arabs, and local people were fluttering up from their chairs and couches, throwing every piece of parchment, leaving the water pipes as any other forgotten object of the Nile, uttering a yelping sound, in the resemblance of a wounded dog. My eyes were on them. All of them. These I had given a job. A living for gods sake. They were sitting in the lobby, smoking their cigars, like any big shot, who had cheated society would do. I was not one of those, and neither should they be. They are here to serve all of man, and I to rule, through these servants. 

Silence... Pure bliss... The only sound existing is this newly created void, was the swathing of a mob. "ah Tom" I could mutter to myself, and look around for the always hardworking guy. He heard. He looked at me with an exhausted face. Abruptly, as he recognized me, the face changed into darkness itself. And fear. Like he had seen the devil he spun on his feet and walked the other direction muttering to himself.

I shrugged off his odd behavior, as he always seem to be a bit odd, and walked off towards my lift to the heavens. Tom we have learned about, as he is, in the previous days, there is no getting around how he is thinking; although it has gotten worse these last weeks, than it has ever been before. 

"There is lady waiting for you. She is still there!.. Still here!!" I turned around and just in the spur of the moment, i saw Tom set into a run, to hide further down the corridor, stopping only in the farthest corner, crouching into a position only a weeping child could mirror.

A thing I usually don't do, as I did in this moment, was to gape, open mouth, my tongue almost lolling out. There was no discipline in this no order, I could not see any reasonable or logical explanation, which would begin to tell the truth as of why Tom did such a thing, and told such a tale. No other persons than me and Beatrice, were able to enter the elevator, and I knew she, for one, would never let anyone up in the holy garden of Eden. But still.. That woman. That one who had been keeping her eyes on me in the bed, was a course into discourse, and maybe, just maybe, there was a woman, which Beatrice had allowed inside my sacred chambers. Hatred began boiling inside my heart, but still my contempt outwardly fashion and layers of deceit flowed from me. A mask I was used to wearing.

Without the use of my key, the doors, like a gate into heaven or hell, opened before me. They were acknowledging me presence for all I knew, and I walked in satisfied with the logical response of the lift, to open for their master. They closed... and oddly enough they opened again, what could this be, would they not accept me now that they had already opened? Were they throwing me out. And how could they open when I was the one with the key. They needed a key? All kinds of thoughts flew through me at those moments, but as soon as the doors closed again, the thoughts disappeared. I was empty inside as the place was empty except for me. 

An odd sensation crept upon me, musical even. I have no relationship to music. It is a plague upon the man, causing artistic fluttering where they should have their thoughts streamlined. There is no sense in music, and it causes chaos within order, smiles where there should be cries. The death of a person is nothing if there is music to soothe, to calm. I loathe it.

But here I was, without any incessant notion  to start such a thing, but a tune sprung into my mind, and as all things that collect themselves in your mind, they will have a need to spring out once they're collected. Imagine sending a letter, once you have all the words written down, there is a need to send it immediately. That was how I felt, to my own loathing and despair. The only way I could overcome this, was to concentrate. The machine itself had a tune, but one that was automatic, fulfilled, and always the same. I thronged my mind with thoughts to listen to true music, and at last my humming ceased. As the humming ceased so did the lights of the elevator. I pressed up against the door, reminding myself of the earlier traumatic experience, which had led to the fever and sickness. A point of reality, as I saw the door, was enough for me to feel safe.

It felt like something was enveloping me although this was not warm as a machine in function. It was cold as iron and it wouldn’t start heating to my touch. It had surrounded my creating a deeper claustrophobic feel to which I almost panicked. I sensed there would be no escape, and it kept getting closer and tighter around me. The cold from the touch chilled me down into the marrow of my every bone, summoning forth something deeper, something darker. Fear. I couldn’t breathe in this cold! There was nothing to see in this complete darkness. It was now too close. Close to breaking my bones by the next move, the next second, all I had known as my "life" went out of me. I just closed my eyes in the deep terror of what could happen next. I felt something now as it throbbed closer, something deep and hurting, enough to make you scream for mercy. I could hear it, the cracking of bones, of tendons in muscles being stretched enough to whip to the eternal pressure upon them. Every fragment suffering from the pressure, was worse than the next, the sounds spread to eternity and back. At last it was only a cubicle of death and despair, all my bones compressed to a form  and fill the small square, so much alike to every aisle of stalls my workers were in.

I was compromised, just as my files system and life. Almost laughable that I could think, and could consider that my head would be squared and flat. Maybe it would even be possible to file and sort me to fit my own neatness. What a wonder? There was nothing left to feel only to hear, as my skull cracked open and the liquids from my brain began protruding out running over and filling my eyes down to the mouth. The worst taste I had ever come across, was this vile thing, I now tasted as no man had ever done before me. This was joy and pain mixed in a masochistic combination. It was madness! I began to savour it and taste the happiness of giving up. Letting go and be free from the work I had done. There was no order!? Here I was nothing but a head not feeling anything else, than my brain still thinking. The cold that enveloped me had gone and it felt like I was just sitting against the side of the elevator with the numb body.

What a blackout it was, but waking up was much worse than that of the blackout, the dream trance I had let the noise of the elevator set me into. I found myself in my haven, or at least It should be my haven, but something was amiss, completely wrong even. Usually when you wake up from a blackout, you need to distinguish yourself from your surroundings, as well as know that you are whole. I was whole again, and not a broken bone in my body, although I found that my arm was completely stretched. My mind climbed from the shoulder and along the arm into the hand, which held something by a firm grip, enveloping whatever it could be. It was cold, as the elevator had been before, but softer still. It had once been warm but the reason of his insane laughter had made it cold. 

I tried remembering, I truly did, but nothing came out of it, except that my eyes still was closed, as had they also caught damage in the trance stage and shut down. Was my body really there, or was it only the consciousness playing fools games again, throwing around his head like a ball against a brick wall. connecting thought to what really wasn't there. I had to see, to know, that I was whole now, when I hadn't been before. no matter that it was illogical, when you experience your own death, you want to be sure it is not real, even though you know it isn't I My eyes moved, twinged and fluttered open. Death, death was all around me, but it was not me who had suffered from such an accident on this, my skyline floor. I stared straight into the eyes that any hag, witch or mythical killer of a lady could produce, or at least of what remained of it from life. It was the sad remains of my Secretary, poor Beatrice, to which my anger and hatred had fluttered just for a second, against. There was a tinge of manic laughter left, and I felt hope yet again, it was not me, but her that had lost the head in the elevator. Her body sat disjointed from neck and head. Everything disappeared in my own unreal laughter, as to this situation. As I think now, I could not cope with it, and someone had committed a murder, which of course could not be me. The lady, I had seen no sign of, but there sure was the smell of frame around the air, in this place.

Here she was, this Beatrice, inviting a stranger who was up to no good, inside the sacred place, and now she was paying for her misdeed. Her head in my hands, as the headless knight who had just found his head, her body in a kneeling stance praying to god. The blood trail went inside my office, and like a dog on my knees, sniffing out some secret I had to discover, I followed it. 

As I watched, and let her head watch, together we saw a script none knew, letters revolting and obscure, but still readable. "This is your work" I mumbled to the head of Beatrice. A normal person would be puking at this time, but I merely stood and watched as the letters hung on the tapestry, dripping a few drops from time to time. A new decoration to remind me of accounting, finances and insurance. To remind me that there still was work to do. I read it aloud to be sure what was the message "Meet me in Soho". London was all that streamed through my endless number of thoughts.

This should not stop me from taking the workload of the day. I sat by my chair, throwing Beatrice out into the corridor and began examining the stock market, as I would any other day. The computing abilities of my mind, seemed at a even higher point than they had been any other day before this, and oh how i reveled in it, forgetting everything around me until I was ready to sleep like a child. I took my couch in the office and feel the darkness that I so had longed to succumb to, one which was not filled with dreams or nightmares alike, but just was the void I had hoped for. Nothing could stop mechanics of a true worker!

The Machine - The Womb

Part of me have no wish of acknowledging these unfortunate turns of events. These small depositions of mental instability within my household, my castle, which by some odd cause, is spreading like a disease, to all that are near the lobby. The cause of mental maladies, are all constructed by man himself. The man who hides behind his own walls, rots within them, and let the lunacy created from greed and desire, locked so deep inside. Of course someone can happenstance bring the key, to unfold the many lighted nightmares which could be hidden within these walls, bit there should be no one able to carry such a key. Oneself as a person should be the only able to break the chains of insanity, free the suppressed, .and conquer their world. In our world, it is unaccepted, leads to external chains instead of the internal ones.

I am touching the subject of mental illness, because, as I start out, more cases have sprung into plain sight during the weekend. Friday and Sunday were a mess, where I had to send home Bill and Paul. They were engaged in a fistfight, disturbingly through more than half an hour before I arrived to see the pure anarchy which the fistfight had produced. Many of the upper floor employees stood and cheered on the different contestants, their hands raised high and the bodies in tune, and motion as one single entity. The information as to what happened, and between who, had surpassed me completely, and as I drew up, drew through and drew in, I saw the horrifying sight. Of notice, is it that nobody moved to let me through, as their superior, but I understood why afterwards. I sent the whole floor home for the weekend, and let them have the day without pay, ensuring them that if this happened again, I could only foresee a firing of at least one floor. That did quiet them down. And thus the shepherd has moved his herd to safe pastures yet again.

Having sent my flock of sheep to their home-pastures, their families and loved ones, the Saturday was whole as a great meal could ever be. Again, the time through the lobby was breathtaking, as Tom did his work for the 5'Th time that I'm sure off. So hard laboriousness in person should be rewarded, I will get him some new cleaning material for the next week. He would love that! Now that Frida is gone, it is his duty to be my eyes and ears down at ground level, and so far he has not disappointed. The void would be no near to what my building was experiencing in the corridors that weekly bustled with life, I could nest here and no one would come to take it from me. But that would not happen.

I felt watched. As eyes on me were sprouting from every opening, within and out of the building. They searched my body, but they drove inside me, more than searching. That locked cage they were searching for.

And here we go back to the start. I have no cage of desire and lust, glutton and greed. I have lived to the fullest, as a better man than any other, and that is why I explained THEIR cage to you. No such thing is needed, as I fulfill every need I have. My needs are just different, I know. Better, beyond that of mere beings who need to reproduce to fulfill their overall fitness. My fitness is eternal, as my memory shall be!

There really was no need to worry, and with those thoughts they disappeared, those eyes. None were watching but me, and I was watching. Watching humans. Watching their lives, as free as they could be in the weekends, strolling through the parks, smiling. "True smiles" I could only mumble. I had my devious smile firmly mounted on my face. They were not eternal these ants, and would soon returning to the queens to do the bidding. Slaves to society, slaves to themselves. They are forever bound in the human cycle - Animal cycle to be more precise - when they really seek to break it they are doing quite the opposite

This is where we get to Sunday. My driver took me to the entrance, as any usual day, where nothing unusual would happen. I got into my Tower and walked down my beautifully carved floor, greeting Tom with my usual "Hey Tom", while I fidgeted with the keys to the elevator, turning my attention to Tom's doings on this day. He had not answered me with anything but an unsatisfied grumble. As an old man about to loose balanced, or a younger one who had had the air knocked out of him, Tom stood leaning on a broom heaving his body up, trying to stand straight. It seemed he failed and slumped down again, his spine ended in unusually curved position as he stood there. I lifted my brow slightly and entered the elevator.

Even though my elevator itself is not designed to stop at any other floors, I have installed counters visualizing every floor I go past, just to enhance the visual feeling of going up. The atmospheric friction caused by going upwards, by the pull down. An exotic feeling I would never miss to have each and every day. As any other day I stood watching as each new floor was reached, turning over the floor in my mind's eye, with a satisfying glee, seeing just what I had been able to build, and to lead.

Suddenly the elevator lurched into a stop between two of the floors, collapsing my whole line of thought in a matter of moments. I stood in silence at the time being, while the light in the elevator seemed to have some slight power failure. It was blinking on and off, at regular time intervals, 2 blinks, one long silence and 2 blinks again.

Even though this shouldn't be any existing floor, the doors opened automatically. I thought that as convenient, as I then wouldn't have the need of help. Outside all was in grey, long halls aligned as a parking lot, all concrete. It was a long passage with individual stalls, each one probably fitting 6 cars. The air was moist and damp, with the feel of a thunderstorm having just passed, droplets passing down in small puddles evenly spread along the pathway to the other end. The lot was all empty. Or almost, at the end stall, directly opposite me, I could spot an outline of something; or someone. At first there had only been the sound of the droplets ringing to the puddles, causing the ripples to spread out as long as the puddles could spread. Now; a dark clanginng sound resonated along the wall. No sound of concrete, but rather the sound of metal scraping against metal, as a dreadful eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee rrrsschh that would start over once it finished. I called out in a mundane tone, no intonation of fright. It was dreadful, unpleasant even, but frightened I was not, for this being which stood so far away, there would be no need of that.

"Hello? Anyone there? Who.. who are you, what is your position in this building?"

I had retreated a couple of steps in the calm silence that entered the fray, moving back into the elevator to push the "up" button. Just one more floor would be enough for my salvation of this irrelevant area of my building. The lights were only in the parking lot outside the elevator now. I noticed. It was as if the elevator had stopped breathing, stopped living.

All lights went out except a single one in the other end. I could only see the humanoid figure, not quite able to see it in the blur. At least it wasn't moving.

The lips moved and like crystals every fragment of them, if they indeed were angled and not polished bare, reflected the light against me. No words came, at least not I could see, but something happened. I must have been under trance because at that point the elevator faded. The room faded and I suddenly stood facing her blankness. It was as though, we here had a woman, which was not a woman, but a metal statue living and breathing. At this point she talked. She told me something which made no sense, not even an enemy within the corporate would call out this nonsense at me. Her voice even more metallic than human, what a prank to call on me!
“You are one of few, of many, of ours to be bound upon the laws of those unprotected by gods. You are no more man than any woman and less human than any. Embrace us. Embrace the truce we are bound by in the existence and become what you have denied for eternity.”

I met her gaze in a cool gaze, which she in every way mirrored as I saw my own image in her whole face. In this moment, I admit, I felt weak, as something burned into me, let my lips touch with the cold unreal. I would never allow such a thing, but in my moment of weakness it happened. And it burned... For a long time... I just stood blinded by the situation

It really felt as something reached deep inside of me, and my eyes, damn those eyes, do not usually deceive, but here, in this situation, I would call hoax on them. I will explain

A spike formed itself from her body, naked as she stood there, nothing but grey colours. It was an indescribable mass that moved from her stomach and into mine, stopping only to grow inside. Growing till all the torso of her body was a drill complete working onto me through me and  into the pavement behind me. Blood began to flow like every river should, when you breach the dam, welling outside my body like life were running out.

 My screams of agony went through the hall while my mind which now was clouded in red images of my own innards creeping up against the walls splattering themselves to fill them.  At last the movement came to be metal upon metal as she now was part of me. I felt empty, like cold hard steel had filled me through sheer froze, freezing my hearts exterior and hollowing my body completely. 

I can only think of this as a dream, because I was still completely in a conscious state of mind. There was nothing left of what would be called body, hence my consciousness floated above the body of what had been me, but no longer was. There was every lining of organ and muscle, a sight of horror, the skin invaginated for me to look upon. Nothing humane was left of my body. I felt hollow even though I was not in my own body. Hollow? Can you imagine? that is not possible. My world is full. But a felt hollow, and devoid of purpose with my current state. I needed something more. Such a ridicule to me!

Like a pang of light - a divine intervention haha! and suddenly I was inside my own body again. I felt dreary, I must admit, felt as though the skinning had been made with perfect precision. It felt as real as anything ever could, this illusion. I was bound, enchanted by such a workmanship created in deceit. Had I, the master, become the slave of thoughts made by me? or her? I could not say, or see clear on this matter, neither give it further thought in this moment. 

The realization and thoughts of this kind, took me back to who I was. where I was. My eyes were closed, but sacrificing a true effort I could slid them open, seeing blurred images. At the bottom of the elevator was where I was at that time, looking up at the still existing grey woman. The woman had laid a touch upon me. The skinning which had been done towards me was real. I could see the skinless hands, the red muscle and tendons showed freely turning the thoughts I had before further into a spiral of pain. Blood as everywhere in a puddle, locked inside the elevator, slowly slipping around me,creating a pagan alter. She was eyeing me, and I, back on her, with the power of a leader, although she seemed unaffected by my nature Then, in a flash she bobbed her head towards mine, clean. I could not escape it with all my skin missing. A rain of acidlike substance poured through her mouth and onty me skinless body, dissolving it slowly. Painfully. I tried, I truly tried to get away from her sunken head, frozen in a puking motion right above my body, but to no avail. The fright and helplessness convulsed my body into nausea and through my gastrointestinal tract I tasted iron. It slowly filled my mouth, driveled out of it and on the floor chocking me to my death. She disappeared in a blink. The feeling of being enveloped came upon me, slithering with a coldness binding itself to my bones. Soon after all feelings would return and every remnant of her was gone. My consciousness was floating just above the sad skeleton which had been me. I felt as though i was something, someone, forged to a greater cause.

The blood and every bit of irregularity were gone as the elevator beeped on the right floor. 

I was of course shaken by this incident and had to rest. Rest and work, and I will not leave my office today. I must come back to reality instead of being caught a dreamworld. Dreamworlds are not part of work and work needs to be upheld, at whatever cost!

Beatrice the Secretary

Having already described the lobby of my Castle, today we will acquire further knowlegde as to what my lair has to offer. The place that is sacred, where only the most prominent knights in my order are allowed to enter. And of course a lady, but only one to sit at my side and be quiet and condescending. Of course my side, is next to my office, we shouldn't have too much physical contact between man and woman in such a sacred place. I have to admit, of course, that I am as sacred as my office, and as such should never be defiled by any external source. Especially not gender.

As every other day I walk through the lobby, greeting Tom, who is, today, staring feverishly at the entrance with wide bloodstained eyes, in such a manner, one should think they were about to pop. Oh how I love him, and he surely has his moments. Most important of all, is that his cleaning is eminent yet another day, one should think that he never left this building.

Is that sweat trickling down his forehead? If so I know he would never accept a sickday, even if I permitted it, as I know he needs the work as much as I need mine. Today, I had dressed myself to effortlessly slip between the throng of ignorants, by disguising myself as one. Suit all dark, my blue tie neatly pressed against my more than averagely fit body, and 3 times ironed white shirt. What sheer joy there is to blend with such perfection, my Tuesday briefcase spoiled to the touch of other people, to be ventilated through real New York pollution, before returning to the clinical ever so safe environment. Of course, tomorrow, with the weekly staff meeting, I will wear my Wednesday briefcase.

Yes I walked to my tower today, because mingling among these slaves, without the use of any words, but just looks, creates such a glee. It is easy to spot the slaves from the masters. These foul looking, mind deserted spacers, who either stare blankly or look down on the pavement in a 'hurry', crying those unspilled tears inside. Those, who have all the nurture and love from their so loving wife and children, have run away from their true nature. They have run away from truth! from godhood! spilled themselves into the gutters of creation, to multiply by coital activity of the bodies, in the hope of creating true potential, that one day will rise, as I have done.

Those thoughts repeat themselves to me over and over, as I walk to my elevator along the majestic floor, and use my key to summon forth my sun chariot, ready to bring a new dawn to those who still walk in shadow and darkness.
As the doors open I see in the mirrors now surrounding me, a glimpse of the basement parking lot. But with a blink of my eye it was gone. I stop in with my usual straight looking true fact, A grin to match my suit. Oh how the sun shall rise today!

In my praising of my own selflessness to help those lost sheep as the sheepdog I am, there is room to exclaim a "Hallelujah!" and clap together my hands, turning around, to face the exit of the elevator.

The soothing sound of a ping, as my destination on the top of Mount of Olympus have been reached, here I can control the weather and ways of man undisturbed. Or almost at least

In front of me stands Beatrice. A woman, in her late twenties, wearing a long skirt and loosely cut shirt by my recommendation. Letting her shed any light on bare skin would create chaos in the order of work. I have of course hired her for the looks, not for myself, but for my underlings, so I can maintain the image of control. Her body is more than averagely shaped, the female lines marking a well developed woman. Even in the modest clothing I have forced upon her, the skirt is a tight fit, while her top just lightly touches the skin of beneath in the swirling wind as she strides with power to show her status in the firm. She tries, as all devious women would do, to woo one such as me, but I am incapable of desiring anything but my work, much to her obvious regret. I can see it of course, but maintain my fake smile to at least cheer her with that. Bad morale is bad for company, and in the end I would have to fire her.

Women who work, should always be a face of the person who hires them. She is not stupid, luckily, and accepts the minimum wage for women with a neutral true face always ready to do my bidding. She is my desk cleaner, and all the paperwork and indexing is at her hands. Also, she is the one who takes the elevator down on Tuesdays to collect the weekly reports from each of the last top 10 floors. I greet her with a nod as she, on just the right time steps by me, trying to brush lightly against me. I do as I always do, and dodge her in my own powerful walk along my red carpet. I never talk unnecessary to this woman, and my speaker is never used. She has got her orders, and always follow them from one end to the next. It is part of an automated system, where she is my necessary robot to assure everything along the clockwork is working correct. For that I appreciate her, for her instincts as I woman, I loathe her. She must learn to control, if she wants to be in control, especially for us, the masters, and not the ones bound by masters.

The elevator doors closed behind me, and screeching noises as nails clawing to escape, followed the lift downward. I took at slight look behind my shoulder and shrugged. Nothing like mystic sounds of panic caused by inferior beings. No need to be in such a heat, but I have animals who tend to do unnecessary courtship for bonding of the opposite gender.

At last I stood in front of my sanctuary, which none of you shall know of.

Yet.

 I open my mahogany door and step into the lounge giving the full panorama view of the world below and above.

Here I am Being Supreme.