Corporate Man is called in to investigate reports of vile, unethical business practices at Great American Business Company. What he finds there just might destroy him (except we all know the ending to The Tragic Death of Corporate Man so it should be fairly obvious that it can't really destroy him, though it can come close).
Enslaved by the Bonus Whores is an all new Corporate Man Adventure Serial. Chapters will post every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
Friday, April 5, 2013
“Anything broken or sprained real bad?” Business Woman asked.
“My shoulder,” said Demand. “But nothing that’ll keep me from moving.”
“I’m fine,” said Supply.
Business Woman looked around. It was dark in the trench. The walls were charcoal grey and there were marks, like cliff shearing, scraping down them. She pushed her way past an errand boy and a couple of day traders and called out, “Bull! Bull Market? You okay? Are you hurt?”
She rounded a corner easing past two of the polo-clad sect as they helped a fine-suited trader gain his feet. Both had visible injuries. A gashed and bleeding head, a leg that seemed to attach incorrectly, a broken nose, and extremely dislocated fingers. Beyond them was Bull Market. He was doubled over, writhing and moaning.
“Bull, buddy, what’s wrong?” Business Woman asked, ignoring the pleads of the injured day traders nearby.
“Get away from me,” he grunted. “Go! While you still can.”
“Bull Market, listen to–”
“Go! I can’t stop him. He’s coming. Run!” Bull Market screamed. Then his back arched and something deep inside him cracked. He howled, in agony, and tore at his chest, ripped open the buttons of his shirt, and yanked frantically at his tie.
“Oh shit,” said Business Woman. She turned and ran back down the corridor, shouting, “Go! Go! It’s nineteen eighty-seven all over again. Run!”
“What is it? What’s happened?” Supply said as she and Demand took their cues and ran. Several of the more intelligent day traders followed suit.
“It’s Bull Market,” said Business Woman. “He’s gone Bear!”
Bull Market’s thick, bovine face contorted unnaturally as he shrieked. Hollow, wet sounds, like rocks scraping together in a bowl of oatmeal, grated beneath his skin. His blunted teeth cracked and then splintered into sharp, jagged points. Tufts of coarse, musky hair sprouted all over his body. His suit, ragged and torn, clung to him in tatters.
And then Bear Market roared.
A couple of the less intelligent day traders, having ignored Business Woman’s subtle hints that they should vacate the area, caught sight of Bear Market. Realization came too late. The beast was upon them, clawing and gnashing and growling. Jagged teeth ripped away huge chunks of spurting flesh.
Blood and screams painted the dark walls of the labyrinth.