The Warehouse

Fate will go about it's business much like a mailman in the early hours of the morning. You never see the mailman, but you see his work. Day in and day out they'll put in your bills, your expenses for living your privileged existence, in your mailbox without a hitch. Sometimes you'll find the mailman staring at your children as he reflects the early morning sun off his knife.
These things happen, but they're rare.

***

Matthew rolled out his bag of coke on the bathroom sink. He looked in his pocket for something to cut it into lines with. Zack, his cohort, was babbling about shit Matthew didn't care about and could only half hear anyway.

"Hey Matthew man" Zack mumbled nervously, rubbing his nose "That new intern, Molly, she totally wants to fuck you man"

The way Zack punctuated every thought with "Man" pissed Matthew off. He found a card in his blazer pocket; too thin an flimsy to be a credit card, but just thick enough to be used as a tool. It felt laminated, but it was the size of a business card.

***

The building Matthew was standing in front of was too big to be mistaken for anything else, but the dockside darkness shrouded it, concealed it, made it look almost church like. He read about a building like this a long time ago. His then law professor gave out files for on a case in which he was a prosecutor. He told the class that a man had abducted two children, took them to a warehouse like this, then tied weights to their legs and drowned them alive in the bay. The man said he was drawn to this building.

Matthew had no idea why he was here or why he was opening the door.

The one room was large, larger then what the outside had appeared and there was practically nothing in it. A pallet truck lay, clearly unused for some time, to the side. Straight ahead of Matthew, at the back of the warehouse, was a freight elevator: the only thing lit in the entire warehouse.

***

Matthew rolled out his bag of coke on the bathroom sink. Zack had brought a friend, Markus. Oh fucking great Matthew thought to himself, annoyed I have to share with two cocksuckers today

Matthew brought an even bigger amount of coke the the next day. His dealer was having a party, and even though Matthew wasn't one to party with his nigger dealer he decided to stay and party anyway. He had a really great time, so great a time that some cunt whore got her jaw broken. I don't even think she could see out of that swollen face I gave her by the time she got to the hospital Matthew smiled to himself. Sporting an erection every time he thought about her scream.

***

When Matthew got back to the freight elevator, the mailman with the permanently bloodstained hands was being awfully more vocal then usual.

"You sure you wanna do this, Matthew?"  the mail man turned to Matthew and smiled. Matthew never noticed the mailman didn't have eyes. Just sockets.

"I don't remember asking you, fucko" Matthew spat back.

"Just making sure" grinned the mail man.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Matthew said, getting impatient.

The mailman rose his bloodstained hand and hovered it over all of the elevators buttons, all representing a different level of the warehouses basement, all flickered out besides the very last one. All six of them representing a floor where Matthew experienced pleasure he couldn't ever imagine. A pleasure he could only experience once and never come back to again. A pleasure only getting more vivid then the last. A pleasure that made real life seem less real.
The mailman told him the rules.
Once he had left one level, he was only to go to the level below it.

Matthew was on the last level.

***

Zack rolled out his bag of coke on the bathroom sink. He looked in his pocket for something to cut it into lines with. Markus, his cohort, was babbling about shit Zack couldn't really comprehend. This bag was way less then he was used to.

"Hey, wheres Matthew?" Markus asked fidgeting with an pen he had on hand

"I told you man" Zack pulled out a card from his blazer pocket; too thin an flimsy to be a credit card, but just thick enough to be used as a tool. It felt laminated, but it was the size of a business card. "He quit to become a mailman" Zack laughed, "I don't get it, Matthew was a really killer attorney, man, but he just didn't show up for work a couple weeks back." Zack went back to cutting lines with the card "Last I heard he was a fucking mailman"

"Fucking bozo" Markus said. Snorting a line. "Hey, whatever happened that intern... whats. whats her name?"

"Molly" Zack replied, rubbing his nose.

"Yeah, does she get the spot? I mean Matthew's spot?"

"No" Zack let out a laugh a little too loud. "No, dumb bitch went missing" Cutting a sad line, Zack began to notice that this wasn't one of his business cards. The Warehouse it read. Then an address.

"What are you looking at?" Markus asked, only half interested.






Love and Kisses,
Big Mike.