Write One Page Per Day – 278/365 – October 5, 2018

VIP Treatment


When my eyes opened, I didn’t recognize anything. I looked around to see office motivational posters hanging on three windowless walls. The fourth wall had booths with glass dividers and a single door.

“I hate this place,” A man said to my left, “it takes forever to get anywhere.”

“Where are we?” I asked rubbing my right eye.

“We’re in the administrative offices for this place,” he replied, “We might be here awhile.”

The door opened, “Jack Jenkins?”

“Yes?” I said standing up as the man next to me looked stunned.

“Come with me please,” she said.

I nodded and followed through the door. We walked down an equally sparse hall painted a beige color with faded old carpet.

“You’re in here,” she said opening a door.

I turned without thinking and found myself facing a huge man with dark glasses and a wicked looking grin.

“Steven, this is Jack Jenkins,” the woman said from behind me.

“Oh, the legend arrives finally!” he said sidestepping to reveal a velvet rope that he unclasped from the post. “Go right in. The boss is expecting you.”

I walked past him and froze as the world around me fell away like it was made of sand. I felt more confused when, from above, more sand fell, and the world returned only now I was sitting in what appeared to be a club VIP lounge. I could hear the music thumping from somewhere, fast and intense.

“Jack!” A man said looking out from a curtained booth, “Come here, man!”

I slid into the booth to see a suited man with messy hair sitting across from me. A man and woman on either side of him leaning in under his arms.

“Welcome, Jack. I’ve been waiting for you a long time-well, it’s a long time to you, not really long in the grand scheme of things. Do you have any questions before we get started? Are you hungry or thirsty?”

“Where am I? I don’t know what’s happening…” I croaked.

“Oh! No one told you? You’re in hell man, but you don’t need to worry. You’re a fucking legend down here. The war crimes you committed, the countries you destabilized, and the tortures-oh, man are you good.”

“This is hell?” I asked looking around.

“I could put you with the others,” he said waving a hand. The curtains parted, and a sea of people who looked as though they were perpetually drowning came past. He waved his hand again to change the scene to people running from bear-sized dogs that were catching them and tearing them apart. “It’s up to you. What scene do you prefer? I’ve got loads more.”

“What do you want from me?” I asked.

“I thought you might like to get right to the point,” he said smiling as he leaned forward, “I have a job for you.”


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