Friday, 2 February 2018

The Darkest Choice - Chapter Nine

He had just finished lecturing them on their poor performance and laziness. Whether or not he was reasonable, he did not know and did not care. He sat down on the chair at the end of the meeting table and propped his legs up, wondering why things had not been going the way he’d planned. He had thought that under his management, things would have been done a lot better and faster. He thought that the perceivers would be driven towards productivity and success like he was. They just weren't putting in enough effort and he didn't know why.


Four down in one assignment. His manager would question him for sure, and it would be his turn to lose his rank. Clarisa mentioned their department's low morale, but he wasn't a morale booster. It wasn't his job to inspire others, that was Clarisa's. He was the boss, the strictly authoritarian, the one in control. He fancied not the welfare of his workers, nor their rights. He used them to achieve his goals, to get him whatever he wanted. And what he wanted was power. Recognition. Control. He was even willing to go so far as to sabotage Jonas and his team. With the news about the funds out, he knew Jaydis would be one of the first to lose hope sooner or later. All he did was shorten the wait. Maybe playing with her morale wasn't fair. But Jonas had always received more credit and pay all because the invincible Clarisa was on his team. Was that fair? The former team leader was a bum compared to him in every aspect. Be it time management, strategy, or implementation, he always took the shortcuts, did the bare minimum, and somehow managed to get away with it and even receive praise. Having Clarisa and Leo on the team was a major advantage that saved his position, and having control over them was exactly what Johnson wanted. Antonna wasn't half as dutiful as Leo, and no one in the organisation possessed Clarisa's initiative. Now that he had both of them under his belt, he was on the right track, but something had not yet clicked.


He needed more power.


The Darkness was a mysterious force that fascinated him. He fought against it for a decade without truly understanding how it worked, or how it came to be so powerful. Variations of negativity morphing intricately into objects of endless forms, each representing the inner demons of the victims themselves. Its ability to design all sorts of different horrors for the purpose of haunting people was frightening but incredible nonetheless. Only now did he come to appreciate the fact that he was a perceiver, someone able to see and admire the creativity and genius of this force. It was an art. A weapon. A renewable source of energy.


And he needed to harvest it.


So lost he was in this new idea, he failed to notice the fluorescent lights dimming to a faint glow, and a thick smoke floating out from the crack in the ceiling. Only when it had diffused through most of the room did Johnson slide his feet off the meeting table and jolt upright.


“Who's there?”


It was a silly question and he knew it. A ghostly apparition was already beginning to form in front of him, and it didn't take a fifth grader to know what had come to communicate with him and why. Johnson watched intently as the smoke gathered to form a large, menacing, and solid-looking…


Hand.


It suspended in midair, flexing its fingers and performing all sorts of signs and clawing actions. The rest of the room had opaqued, leaving only the black, twisting figure in the spotlight. The scene looked too absurd to be real, but too defined to be dreamlike. Johnson did not seem the least bit afraid of the hand, and complied as it beckoned him closer with its index finger. Words were communicated to him telepathically, but with no discernable voice that spoke them.


You seek cooperation.


Johnson’s eyes narrowed with caution. “Yes, but I didn’t expect it to come so readily.”


The hand rubbed its fingers together possessively.


We see a mutual benefit.


Johnson raised an eyebrow. “Tell me yours.”


The hand clenched into a tight fist.


Your organisation is in an unstable condition. Now is the perfect time to strike. You might just prove useful to us.


“What do you want me to do?”


The fist punched the air.


Remain in your position but work on our side. Do what you do best. Yell at them. Overwork them. Assign them traps we have designed based on their fears. Destroy their morale in the shortest possible time.


Johnson frowned. “I’m going to lose my position. I won't get away with four of my members dead in one assignment.”


The hand straightened and patted the air in reassurance.


Leave that to us. We will ensure that you have the power you need to execute your plans. Let your negative emotions guide you.


“Well then, what’s in it for me?”


The hand gestured as it explained,


We see that you long for success and control. You have also made countless enemies in the past. You feel that you do not receive the recognition you deserve. We will ensure that your hunger for power and thirst for revenge are well satisfied.


“Sounds very nice,” Johnson’s lip curled. “What’s the catch?”


The smoke began to surround him and enter his lungs. He felt the Darkness infiltrate into some of his bodily functions, and he experienced a renewed physical strength and sense of omnipotence he didn't before.


At the optimum time, we will evolve to take a superior form. We will occupy your body and use it as a means of communication. You will become a part of us, as one, inseparable entity.


“So I'll only have to play spy for the time being,” Johnson said as he moved around in his new body, pleased. The hand wagged its index finger warningly.


Your upgraded physical construct is not without a cost. If our evolved form is taken down, you will go down with us. Your life will not be compensated.


“What could possibly take down the Darkness?” Johnson laughed. The hand pointed accusatively at him.


You are mistaken. The Darkness is indestructible. Only our advanced conformation can be annihilated, by a counterforce of unyielding hope and determination.


Johnson frowned. Why did everyone seem to have a score to settle with Clarisa?


You want her as well?”


The fist clenched and unclenched in fury.


The world’s most powerful perceiver has been hindering our expansion for nearly a decade. We want her spirit deflated and bravery vanquished. Once we have her on her knees, we will achieve a level of invincibility we have never attained. Make sure she receives the brunt of your harshest words and the heaviest of responsibility. There is no need to be fair towards her. Ruin everything she loves and cares about. Crush her.


Johnson thought for a moment about how he was going to do so.


I see you have an objection.


“I have none,” Johnson said firmly. “It’s just… how do I do all that without losing my job?”


As stated, we will take care of that. You are no stranger to dishonesty, Johnson. What you did to Jaydis would be a perfect example.


The hand outstretched towards him.


Do we have a deal, Johnson?


An evil glint shone in Johnson's eye. “Since you assure me,” he smirked, “I’ve no doubt that I can accomplish all that you entrust me with.”


He proceeded to shake the black, menacing hand, which at the same time retrieved all of the Darkness within his body. The feeling of omnipotence was withdrawn from him, and so was all the dusky smoke from the room. The hand vapourised and joined the rest of the Darkness back through the crack in the ceiling. The room had brightened again, and Johnson found himself sticking out his hand to no one. He pulled it back, seeing that a black, jagged scar had been left on his wrist. It tingled with a fleeting, burning pain. He rubbed it with his other hand, but the line was imprinted there permanently. It served as a reminder that he was now on the Darkness’ side, and that the sense of boundless power would be returned to him as soon as his task was fulfilled. Johnson smiled to himself as he thought about all the fear and respect his past nemeses would pay him, and how he would make them bow to him where it had once been the other way round. He sat down in his chair and propped his feet up on the meeting table again.


The deal was sealed. The Darkness had made its mark on him.



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