The Flyer

I walked down the hallway, past two rows of white doors, each on either side of me. The doors had black laminated numbers, and were in no particular order, which seemed odd. My door, which was at the end of the hallway, wasn’t white, rather it was some shade of red, and it had no number. It seemed slightly ajar. I could see it more clearly than any door in the hallway, for there was a bright bluish light right above the door frame. I had thought of turning back many times since I left home. There was this lingering feeling that I was missing something important, that I was oblivious to the obvious.

I had received a flyer in the mail. All the flyer had was a small picture of the red door, with some text that was even smaller.

“Some people getting you down? Crushing your spirit? Not letting you be at peace? Here’s your chance to be free of them. To book an appointment, call 342-555-0123. Rick Dudek, you have been referred by John Thurmond.”

I was puzzled as to why John had referred me: we weren’t really friends, we rarely talked at work, and he always interrupted my presentations at meetings with tangential anecdotes. I wanted to ask John why he had recommended this to me, but he had been on vacation since. Thinking that it couldn’t hurt to check out what the flyer was about, I had decided to give the number a call.

I had expected the voice at the other end of the line to be a man. It was a woman. I had expected the voice at the other end of the line to be cold and monotone. It was energetic and melodious. The conversation, however, was short:

“Hi! I assume you were referred by someone?”

“Why yes I was.”

“Who?”

“John Thurmond.”

“Ah. So you must be Rick Dudek?”

“Yes! I would like to know some more about this though.”

“Oh you’ll know more when you get here. Would you like to book an appointment?”

“Yes.”

“Good! Just so you know, I only have 6pm this Thursday open for the rest of the month. Does that work for you?”

“Yes.. yes it does.” I didn’t know what it was, but there was something about her voice that prevented me from saying any form of no.

“Good. Bring a list.”

“A list?”

“Of the people of course!”

“Oh, ok. I guess so.”

“Splendid. Bye!”

I was so intrigued when I read the flyer that I hadn’t even thought of the specifics. Everything seemed really odd now that I thought about it. I had so many questions! Why did she have a picture of the door on the ad? Why was it relevant? Why did her voice sound so familiar? How exactly would she help me be free of the people who make me so criminally unhappy that I joined a group therapy session for the suicidal? I decided not to think about it any further.

Which brings me back to the door. I had arrived. As I had noticed from afar, it was slightly ajar. I was about to knock when I heard the same voice I had heard on the phone: “You can come right in.” Startled, I looked around. Ah, there was a camera underneath the bright blue light. Looking up almost blinded me.

I thought there would be a waiting room or a lobby behind the door, but there was just one room with a desk. The desk was so big it took up the entire width of the room. And she was sitting behind it. ‘She probably needs to climb over the desk to get out of the room’, I thought. On her side of the desk there were two bookshelves aligned with the edges of the desk. The chair she sat on was unusually high, so much so that you could see her knees above the desk.

I recognized her, she was Anne from group therapy. She had only been to group about three times since I had started going, so it made sense now why I couldn’t place the voice before. She looked different today. Her teeth were whiter, her skin smoother and her hair straighter. She looked practically doll-like. I stared at her smile for a second, partly intimidated. She didn’t seem to recognize me from group, so I decided not to say anything.

“Rick?”

“Yes.”

“Have a seat.”

“So.. about this program..”

“Do you know why you’re here?”

“Not really, I mean I have an idea..”

“Did you make the List?”

“List?”

“The List of the people you don’t like.”

“Well there are just three people, so I didn’t bother making a list.”

She seemed disappointed. She frowned “Hmm, well if you would have given it some more thought you would have definitely come up with more.”

“Well that many people aren’t really making me unhappy, it’s just these.”

“Somehow I doubt that. Well, let’s get straight to it then.”

“Sure.”

“So you remember who you want to talk about?”

“We are going to talk about them?”

She scoffed. I didn’t know why she was being so rude, this was all new to me. “Of course. If I am to choose one of these people, I need to know about them. Why you don’t like them. Why you think they deserve death.”

I froze for a second. Her voice was now cold and monotone, as I had initially expected it to be. “Death? I never said anything about death!” She was nonchalant. “Well that’s what I am here for.”

I couldn’t tell if she was joking. I had fantasized about this meeting being about that, but I never really expected for it to happen. You definitely fantasize about winning the lottery, but you will probably be shocked if you actually win a jackpot of millions of dollars.

“Wait… Wait… I thought that I would be helped here, that these people would be taught lessons.” She sneered in disgust. “Most people are beyond lessons. I am only going to kill one of them though. The worst one of the three you have. My choice.”

That was it. I didn’t want to be part of it anymore. These people being dead sounded great in theory, but I had envisioned them just dropping dead and me having nothing to do with it. I did not want this.

“I think I have to go…”

“Oh please. Don’t act like you didn’t expect this arrangement to be beyond the law. You want to hurt them. But you’re a coward.”

I didn’t want to hurt anyone. Not directly anyway.

“Coward? There’s nothing cowardly about not wanting to kill…”

She laughed. “Sure, but you want them hurt as long as you don’t know what happens to them. As long as it’s behind closed doors. As soon as I spelled it out for you, you decided this wasn’t for you. Tell me, where do you work?”

“I think there has been a misunderstanding, I’m going to leave.” I started to get up.

She motioned me to sit down with her dainty hands and dismissed my desire to leave. She asked again. “So, where do you work?”

I was mad and wanted to leave, but the glare in her eyes kept me in place. “Uhh.. at a consulting firm. I organize the… ”

She cut me off. “Ah! Well, I’m thinking these 3 people you’ve chosen work in the same place as you?”

“Yes”

“And are they in managerial positions?”

“Not all of them.”

“But they all make more money than you?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Get better perks? Are liked better?”

She was spot on. It was eerie. “I guess… It’s not that I’m not liked…” But she wasn’t done firing questions at me.

“Do they hand over work to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do they leave to you the grunt work that they don’t want to do? Do they give you their trash?”

I could see where she was going with this. And she was right. “Well sometimes they slack off… I guess.”

“Sometimes? How often is sometimes?”

“A couple of times a week.”

“So, that’s sometimes?”

It wasn’t just sometimes. It was way more than I would have liked. I hated that they could just get away with “being busy” because they had spouses and kids and dump their work on me. “Well I guess it happens a little too often…” “How does that make you feel?”

“Well it’s not like I love it. I don’t really like it…”

“Then why don’t you tell them?” That was a good question, I gave her that. “Well… One’s my boss. The other two are well liked around the office. I don’t know.. I guess..”

Her hard stare forced me to stop rambling. Her control over me was getting on my nerves.

“I guess I don’t want to disturb the office dynamic.”

“So you’re a pushover. A little insect that everyone steps on.”

I snapped out of the mode were I was answering any question she asked. She was going too far.

“What? No!”

“Yes you are… You’re a fucking insect, frustrated little ant who wants stick it to the shoes that step on him. But you don’t have the guts.”

I was livid. I didn’t know what was the bigger cause of the anger, the fact that she was so rude, or the fact that she was completely right.

“I’m sorry but that’s very rude…”

“And how does that make you feel?? What are you going to do about it?”

“I don’t like it… I… I…”

She had probably decided by then that she was going to talk for me. “You what? You’re just going to sit there and take it while I insult you? Sit like a little bitch and take it when your boss makes you do his work? Or when your colleague tells you to pick up his dry cleaning for him? And he’s not even your boss! I bet there’s a prick who keeps called you Mike because he thinks that’s your name.”

I couldn’t take it any more. I got up from my chair and leaned over “Shut up!”

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you… Say it with conviction!”

If she had intended to rattle me, she had succeeded. I was furious, and felt myself going on auto-pilot. I punched her in the face. She fell back from her chair.

“Shut up!! I’ve had enough. I’ve had enough of you! I’ve had enough of Jones and the fact that I always have to cover for him when he’s cheating! And the next time Sherman Latsky asks me to go out and run an errand.. I’m going to kill him if you already haven’t.”

She seemed unfazed by the punch. In fact, she was smiling for the first time since she had found out that I didn’t have the list. “Well good for you. Looks like you might be growing some balls after all.”

Her words didn’t register. “And it’s not like he doesn’t know when he’s being condescending. When he’s being mean. Oh, he knows. He just thinks I won’t say anything!”

“Which has been true so far.” She said matter-of-factly. “I mean you ARE a little insect.”

“You better watch your mouth, or else..”

She was bleeding from the mouth, but her satisfied smile shone through her bloodied face. “Calm down! I was making a point. You DO want them dead.”

I DID want them dead. “Yes, I do! All of them.” “Oh see, I only kill one.”

“Why?”

“I don’t kill more than one. That’s not how I work.”

Now it was my turn to be disappointed. “But what’s the big deal? Think of it as me coming in again and making an arrangement.” She was amused. “a few minutes ago you didn’t want me to kill at all.”

I, however, was a man possessed. I hadn’t felt so good in years. “But you were right. I DO want them hurt. They’re inconsiderate idiots who don’t give a fuck about anyone but themselves! They don’t just deserve death, but torture!”

“Oh my. Aren’t you quite the closeted monster? Anyway, you’re not the one choosing the person I kill. Remember, I made contact with you. I chose you. You were referred to me by someone.”

I was calming down, albeit slowly. Things were starting to make sense. “So what is this? Reverse murder for hire?”

“I prefer to call it Hire for Murder.” “But you’re not hiring me to kill anyone.” “Oh no… But I’m hiring you to provide the opportunity.” “Then how to I get you to deal with the others?” “You don’t get the point, Mr. Dudek. I chose you. You’re not getting me to deal with anyone. I choose you because I have a craving and I want to satisfy it. You will have to deal with your problems on your own. If you can summon the courage, that is.”

“I should punch you in the fucking face again, hah.” I said lightly.

Her face instantly turned stern and menacing. “You better not let that newfound confidence get out of hand. I’m starting to not like you, Mr. Dudek. I kill people, and they’re not even people I don’t like. Imagine if I didn’t like you, Mr. Dudek?”

Her stare had the habit of instilling in me a fear that only my mother did before she died. I sat back down again. “So… who have you chosen?”

“What’s the name of that colleague again? The one who bosses you around?” “Sherman. Sherman Latsky.” “Him. I’m killing him.” “Why him over the others?” “Well you said yourself; he knows he’s being mean. That’s bad. You seemed to be mad at him the most. And you didn’t even mention the third person. Just write his name, number and address down.”

“Why don’t you just randomly choose people? Why do you go through all these hoops?”

Again, her face had an expression telling me that I was seeking obvious answers to a simple question. “When people tell me why don’t like someone, it gives them character. It gives me reason to hate the person I’m killing. It’s more satisfying.”

Everything about her modus operandi was very amusing. I gave her Sherman’s information. “All right then. Do I have to see you again? Or will you take care of everything from here?”

“You won’t be able to see me even if you wanted to.” She smiled. It felt oddly comforting.

I got up and went to the door. This had been quite an experience. I was still shaking with rage and happiness and I could feel a great degree of wetness in my armpits. I turned around to her.

“By the way, the one who referred me to you..”

“Thurmond.”

“Yes, John Thurmond.”

“What about him?”

“It seems weird why he would do me such a favor. I thought he didn’t really like me.”

“He didn’t.”

It took me a second to get what was going on. I panicked and frantically tried to open the door but it was bolted.

“The door isn’t open.”

The melody had returned to her voice. “Well, I don’t need it to be. I don’t have any appointments in the near future. Till Sherman Latsky becomes available, that is..”