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.

After nearly a decade of imprisonment, Corporate Man returns to find the economy in ruins and his deadliest enemies in control of all but a fraction of society's wealth. He embarks upon a quest to set right the wrongs of the business world; a task that will ultimately destroy him.

Monday, October 27, 2014

Addendum 34

            Corporate Whore ran toward the stairwell.  Her Lackeys were writhing on the ground and still nowhere near upright.  Her blood was sour, diminishing the thrill of killing Corporate Man.  She needed to get to the conference room.  To the piles of Bonus stashed there. 
            Corporate Man dropped down from above, red tie fluttering over his shoulder. 
            He kicked her.  Hard.  A few ribs splintered.
            Corporate Whore flew back, rolled across the rooftop, and sprang forward before Corporate Man could register that she’d regained her feet.  Her attack was wild though, undirected, and he sidestepped easily.  As she rushed past him he slammed his hand down between her shoulder blades and she hit the gravely surface in a vicious, skidding belly flop.
            All the air went out of her and something horrible happened in the area of her fractured ribs. 
            Corporate Man grabbed her wrist and picked her up.  It was slick with chemical sweat and he nearly lost his grip.
            “I should kill you,” he said.  “But I wouldn’t want you to miss out on your big withdrawal.”
            This put some fight back into her and she twisted and scratched, trying to free herself from his grip.  Her glance flicked toward the stairwell door.
            “It’s all you can think about, isn’t it?  Your bonus?” Corporate Man said.  He shook his head and wrenched Corporate Whore’s arm behind her back.  “A short term gain at the expense of decent, hardworking employees.  You not only sully your name, but that of your company.  Employees resent you and clients eventually abandon you over inconsistencies and downright service failures.  And for what?  Nothing.  You really are nothing but a junkie whore.”
            Corporate Whore snarled and spit blood.  A gurgling ripped through her midsection and she howled.  The sound was cut off by a horrible retching vomit that stank like a portable toilet and sprayed like a pressure hose.
            “There goes your dignity,” Corporate Man said.  “What are you left with now?”
            Corporate Whore sucked in a few hoarse breaths and wheezed something inaudible.
            “What was that?” asked Corporate Man.
            “Plan E.”
            There was a loud popping sound behind Corporate Man.  He jerked his head around in time to see what looked like four gleaming red serpents twisting across the rooftop.  It took a moment for his mind to grasp what his eyes were actually witnessing.  Explosive devices had detonated inside the Corporate Lackeys ejecting their skulls in four separate squirming directions, blood geysers chasing ping-ponging heads.
            Only one of these heads traveled in a direction that was vaguely towards Corporate Man, but the distraction was enough for Corporate Whore to make her move.  She stomped down on his foot and then threw her head back, catching Corporate Man’s chin as he bent forward.  She spun around and tried to knee him in the groin, but he was stumbling backward and her blow glanced off his inner thigh.
            She raced toward the stairwell door and yelled, “I’ve got plans within plans, Corporate Man!  Deathtraps everywhere!  I take no chances.”
She flung it open and raced inside.  Corporate Man chased after her, fighting through the pain that flared with every footfall of his left leg.  He hesitated at the door, poking his head inside and then yanking it right back out, just in case she was there.  She was not.  She was at the elevator door at the end of the corridor.  And it was opening.
“Stop!” Corporate Man yelled and he charged toward her.
Corporate Whore spun around, eyes wild, vomit trailing down her chin and chest.  She smirked, tossed a mock salute in Corporate Man’s direction, then backed into the elevator.
And disappeared.
The scream, when it came, was delayed, and then truncated by a deep, meaty thud. There was a quiet moment; a heartbeat or more.  Then the elevator doors whispered closed.
Corporate Man stood frozen in the hallway, his face betraying the overwhelming confusion he felt.  He walked up to the elevator doors, pressed the down button, and the doors slid open.  There was no car waiting inside, just an open chute, with some greasy cables trailing down into blackness. 
On the wall across from him, spray painted in that ever familiar shade of green, were the words: Plan C.