Shadows in the Warehouse
720 Words
The hum of the fluorescent lights overhead did little to dispel the gloom that hung in the corners of the warehouse. Stacks of pallets loomed like silent sentinels, watching over the daily grind of moving, lifting, and organizing. For most, it was just another monotonous day, but for me, it was a battleground of inner turmoil.
Today, as I walked through the warehouse, my eyes met a most annoying individual we'll call Jeremie. Jeremie, the man-child, forty years old and trapped in a perpetual state of juvenile antics and obsessive-compulsive behavior. His anal antics and OCD tendencies gnawed at my patience, chafing against my frayed nerves.
Our paths crossed near the loading dock. Jeremie was meticulously aligning boxes, his face scrunched in concentration. As if on cue, the visions came—dark, vivid, and irresistible. My mind's eye saw a length of plastic wrap, its texture rough and unforgiving, wrapping around Jeremie's neck. I imagined tying the end of that rope to a walking stacker, the heavy machinery that moved effortlessly through the warehouse.
In my vision, I watched as the stacker pulled him through the aisles, his eyes wide with terror, his struggles futile against the inexorable pull. I saw myself pausing to write on his face with a marker, branding him for everyone to see, a final act of humiliation before the end.
Then, I imagined raising the forks of the stacker, lifting him off the ground, high into the shelving. His face drained of color, his body twitching as life ebbed away. The blood drained from his face, and with each passing second, he grew stiller. The rush of endorphins surged through me, a heady mix of exhilaration and relief. For a brief, fleeting moment, I felt happiness.
But reality snapped back, the vivid dream dissolving into the cold, hard truth of the warehouse. Jeremie was still there, alive and well, oblivious to the dark thoughts swirling in my mind. I blinked, the vision gone, replaced by the stark reality of my misery.
I forced a smile, a mask of normalcy to hide the tempest within. To everyone else, I was just another worker, going through the motions. But inside, the desire simmered, a constant battle to keep my darker urges at bay.
As I moved through the warehouse, the visions haunted me, always lurking at the edges of my consciousness. Jeremie's presence was a constant trigger, a reminder of the anger and frustration that festered beneath my skin. I longed for an escape, a release from the prison of my own mind.
But I knew I had to keep these thoughts hidden, locked away where no one could see. To reveal them would be to invite judgment, condemnation, and perhaps even imprisonment. So I played my part, smiling and nodding, pretending that everything was normal.
Yet, the darkness was always there, a shadowy companion that whispered of blood and vengeance. One day, I told myself, one day I would find a way to act on these desires. Until then, I remained a prisoner of my own mind, locked in a battle with the darkness within.
And so, the days passed, each one a struggle to maintain the facade of normalcy. But every time I saw Jeremie, the visions returned, stronger and more vivid than before. It was only a matter of time before the darkness won, and I would be free.
In the warehouse shadows loom,
Flickering lights enhance the gloom.
Among the silent stacks I tread,
Haunted by the thoughts in my head.
There's Jeremie, a man-child vain,
His antics stoke my constant pain.
Our paths collide, and visions flare,
Dark fantasies I cannot share.
Plastic wrap around his throat,
Tied to a stacker, terror afloat.
Dragging him through aisles long,
In my mind, his screams a song.
Forks lift him, high and bound,
His twitching frame, no life found.
A blissful rush, a moment's peace,
Then reality, dark thoughts cease.
Forced smile, mask in place,
Normalcy, a daunting race.
Jeremie triggers visions day by day,
Dreams of vengeance never sway.
These thoughts I hide, secrets tight,
Locked away from judgment's sight.
Darkness whispers promises low,
One day, I'll let my urges show.
For now, a prisoner, I stay,
Battling darkness every day.
Waiting for the moment when,
The shadows win, and I give in.
- Writer
