Close Your Eyes: A Horror Story Collection Page 4

  “Oh shit! Sorry. Forgot that you probably don’t have my number on your phone.” The man paused for a moment and then continued, “This is Jeremy’s older brother Rich.”

  Jeremy was Allen’s best friend when he was a kid. They met sometime in third grade when his family moved to town and they had been friends ever since. Jeremey had attended college on the west coast somewhere in California and after graduating stayed over there working at some IT firm. Allen and Jeremy kept in touch here and there but it felt like the friendship they had was gone lost to the days of childhood. Jeremy’s older brother Rich was three years older than Allen. They had hung out a few times but for the most part they had a causal relationship.

  “Oh… hey Rich, how’s it going?” Allen tried to have his voice sound chipper but he found that he just couldn’t do it.

  “Good man, good. Hey, I heard through the grapevine that you’re looking for work? Well, if you’re interested there’s an opening at my company.”

  Allen could feel his heartbeat quicken. An opening, at Rich’s company? Even though they didn’t keep in touch much he had heard from Jeremy where Rich worked at. Brockford Construction, the largest construction company in Carolsburg. Hell, it was one of the largest, if not the largest, in the state of Missouri. Trying to be as casual sounding as he could Allen replied, “Sure, I might be interested. What type of position are you looking for?”

  “Oh it’s an entry level analyst position. It’s nothing fancy but I’m sure the pay would be good. You’d be working with numbers, reports, and datasets all day.”

  Trying not to sound too eager Allen replied, “Sounds right up my alley. What do you need from me?”

  “Tell you what. How about we meet for lunch tomorrow and you bring your resume. We’ll do kind of an informal interview just you and me. How’s 12:30 at Luigi’s sound? It’s the one off of Grand.”

  “Sounds great,” Allen said with a little too much excitement in his voice.

  “Alrighty. I’ll see you then. C’ya.”

  “C’ya, and Rich?.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  Rich laughed, “No problem man.”

  They both hung up. Allen was so excited that he felt like he was shaking. All of the thoughts of suicide and depression had exited his head like a drain being pulled. The rest of the day he spent in a kind of high waiting for tomorrow’s lunch date. He took off his green smock and threw it against the wall. He didn’t go into work that day.

  --

  Maybe it was because he was interviewing with an old acquaintance. Maybe it was because he had been through so many interviews in the past that they felt routine. Whatever it was Allen found himself sitting in his car outside of Luigi’s with little or no anxiety about the upcoming interview. In fact, he felt relaxed.

  He had arrived more than thirty minutes early. He knew there was no need for it. He knew exactly where Luigi’s was and that traffic wouldn’t even be that bad but he felt compelled not to mess this up. He had to take every precaution. It felt like this was his last chance. So, there he sat in his car watching the clock on his radio slowly move closer to 12:30.

  At a quarter after he couldn’t take it anymore and got out of his car with his resume, notebook, and pen in his hand and walked over to the entrance of Luigi’s. He didn’t want to risk missing Rich walk in. What better way not to miss him than to stand ‘guard’ in front of the building’s front doors waiting and watching everybody come in like a jackass?

  Eventually, Rich showed up and somehow he actually surprised Allen. He looked different since the last time that he saw him. When he was a kid Rich was always the lanky and somewhat goofy looking older brother of Jeremy’s. Today when Allen greeted him he looked like the typical business professional. He wore a basic dress shirt with a bright blue tie and a pair of slacks. But it wasn’t the dress that caught him off guard. There was just something about how he carried himself that seemed different to Allen, impressive almost. They shook hands, exchanged a few words, and then entered the restaurant.

  When they were settled into their booths and the waiter had taken their drink orders their conversation began.

  “So, how’s Jeremy doing,” Allen asked.

  Rich laughed for a second. “Shit. You probably keep in touch with him better than I do. I’ve barely talked to him in the past couple months.” They both laughed, although Allen’s was forced and polite.

  Their drinks came to their table and as they did Rich began to talk. “Alright. So here’s the deal. Brockford construction very rarely hires anybody from a direct application. In fact I don’t remember the last time they even used a job board. Instead, they hire through word of mouth or through network connections. The position they’re hiring for now, the entry analyst, is a new position due to an acquisition that they made in Des Moines. Since I’m in the same department I get to help in the selection process.”

  Rich stopped talking to take a sip of his iced tea. After a few sips of it he grabbed a couple of sugar packets and emptied them into the tea. Allen sat attentively listening to him on the other side of the booth. His notebook laid open and his hand gripped his pen tightly anxiously awaiting for the opportunity to take notes.

  “Now, I’m not sure why but for some reason your name popped into my head. I don’t need to look at your resume to know that you’re a good fit. Hell, I know you from the countless times that you came over when we were kids. You’ll fit right in. You were always into the computers like Jeremy. What I wanted to go over with you was the interview process at Brockford. The formal process can be rather… intense. You’ll have to interview with me of course, but you’ll also have to interview with multiple directors as well as Mr. Brockford himself.”

  Throughout this Allen was nodding in acknowledgement. It all sounded good until the end. He would have to interview with Mr. Brockford? The owner and chief executive officer of a nearly billion dollar construction company wanted to interview him? He kept his appearance stoic and attentive on the outside but inside he felt like someone had punched him the gut. Would he be able to do this?

  The waiter came and took their orders. After he had vanished back into the restaurant Rich continued, “This may all sound a little overwhelming but I’m going to coach you through it today. I’m sure you’ll do fine. The best part about Brockford Construction is that once you’re in you’re in for life.”

  Chapter 2 - Interview

  Allen’s formal interview was scheduled for the next week on a Tuesday morning. After his meeting with Rich he immediately walked into his current employer and quit on the spot. He knew that it was rash. He knew that it was reckless and that he hadn’t even got the job yet… but something about it all just felt right. It was almost like he knew that he was going to get this. The prospect of doubling, maybe even tripling his income, in one day was mind boggling.

  His first interview would begin at eight at Brockford’ s corporate office in downtown Carolsburg. Allen wasn’t familiar with the area so he again arrived obscenely early. Some may have called this obsession to be early a fault but he saw it as a virtue. When he pulled into the parking lot of the three story building his clock read 7:07. He parked his car so that it faced away from the building. He then flipped the ignition off but left the battery on so that he could watch the clock. There were mountains of notes, print outs, and question and answer forms that he had printed and researched sitting on his passenger seat. He thought about thumbing through them again but decided against it. At this point with less than an hour to go what difference would a last minute cram make? It never helped him in college. Instead, he turned the radio on and listened to one of his CDs in an effort to zone out until the time came.

  When the clock hit a quarter till Allen grabbed his binder and stepped out of his car into the parking lot. He turned towards the main building and began to walk. As he walked he admired the building. It had three stories that were made of mostly red brick. The main entrance was on the front left of
the building and instead of brick it was covered in large paned windows that allowed you to see into the receptionist’s desk. Decorative Yews ran all along the outside of the building along with a bed of lava rocks.

  Before he knew it Allen was at the main door. The words Brockford Construction were stenciled in white on the glass door. Below the name was a corporate phone number along with their address. Allen took a deep breath, let it out slowly, opened the door, and stepped in.

  Within seconds he was greeted by the receptionist behind the desk.

  “May I help you,” she said with a much too pleasant voice.

  “Yes, I’m here for an eight o’clock with Rich Turner.”

  “I’ll let him know that you’ve arrived. You can wait in the chairs behind you.” She motioned to a generic row of office chairs that were pushed against the window.

  Allen started towards the chairs when he heard the receptionist again, “I’m sorry sir, but can you sign in as well? We’ll need name, date, and time.” She slid over a clipboard with a sheet of paper across the counter towards him.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Can I get you a coffee or water?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you.” With that Allen sat down in the chairs against the window. He sat as upright as he could with his binder resting in his lap. His tie felt tight around his neck. He thought about loosening it but decided against it. He would deal with it for now. He didn’t want to show any weakness or any sign of imperfection.

  The building was quiet, almost eerily so. There was a clock on the wall behind the reception desk and Allen was staring right at it. He could hear it tick quietly and every second that passed dragged on and on. He wished that eight o’clock would arrive just so that he could get this nervous waiting over with.

  A few minutes before eight, Allen heard someone coming down the stairs to his left. At first he couldn’t see anyone, he could only hear them. As the sounds of footsteps got closer a pair of feet appeared at the top of the stairs. They wore a pair of expensive all black dress shoes complimented with black socks and a black pair of slacks. With each step more and more of the person was revealed. That feeling in the back of his mind came back again but this time more prominent. He recognized it now. It was fear. It told him to leave, to leave this place. He didn’t know where it came from or why it was there but he found himself standing up automatically. He only had a few seconds before whoever coming down the stairs saw him. He stood there frozen in place standing above the waiting room chairs not knowing what to do. He wasn’t sure if it was just him being nervous or not but a big part of his mind was telling him to run, to run away from this place. The person was now halfway down the stairs coming closer to him. Allen looked over at the sound of the footsteps again and now that they were halfway down the stairs Allen recognized them, it was Rich. A sigh of relief washed over him. He had no idea where that panic had come from.

  “Good to see you made it,” Rich said jokingly.

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Allen said immediately regretting saying something so tacky. They shook hands and Rich led the way up the stairs. The building was three stories high and each set of stairs went up half a story, stopped at a long rectangular landing, and then another set of stairs began on the opposite side. As Allen followed Rich he noticed that with each landing they walked through there were pictures of construction jobs hung on the wall, plaques, and even some awards here and there. On the third landing, the one closest to the third floor, there was a large pedestal pressed up against the exterior wall. On top of the pedestal sat a large diamond shaped reward. It couldn’t have been real diamond but it shimmered in the light as they walked. The year 2005 was imprinted on it prominently but Allen couldn’t read the rest of the writing below it.

  When they got to the top of the stairs there was one closed door. Rich stopped and raised his hand not to the door knob but to some kind of number pad just above the knob. He punched a few numbers and the door made an audible click. Rich looked back at him, smiled, and then pushed the door open.

  Allen didn’t get to see too much of the top floor. Almost immediately upon entering Rich walked him into a conference room that was just to the right of the stairs. When Allen walked in he was taken aback. The room held a conference table that looked like it could sit twenty people. The table was a large black rectangle made out of some kind of rock, granite probably. There were brown leather chairs neatly pushed into all sides of the table. The far wall of the room was a wall of windows and shades. Most of the shades were partially shut causing a splintered pattern of shadow and sunlight to go across the room. One of the largest televisions Allen had ever seen hung centered on the far back wall.

  “Take a seat anywhere you like, just not at the head of the table… you’re not that important yet,” Rich said while laughing at his own joke. Allen sat down in one of the middle chairs on the far side of the table. He regretted it almost instantly. As soon as he sat down it felt like the two long sides of the table were surrounding him, suffocating him. He thought about getting up and changing seats but Rich had already sat down on the opposite side of the table opposing him.

  “I’m set to interview you first from eight to nine. After that you’ll sit with Steve Carelli, the Director of Finance, from nine to ten. Steve’s pretty laid back, so I wouldn’t worry too much about it. As long as you’re honest with him you’ll do fine. Once you’re done with him you’ll meet with the Eric Carson the Director of Human Resources. Lastly, and most of all, you’ll meet with Mr. Brockford from eleven to noon.”

  With each passing name that Rich mentioned Allen felt his heartbeat quicken. Even though the building was air conditioned and it was still morning he found himself sweating. The tie felt like a noose around his neck. There was no way he was going to get this job. He didn’t fit in here. These people were powerful. These people had money. What did he have? A shitty room in his parent’s house and a ten year old car?

  “Hey, let me give you some advice, if you don’t mind. Try not to think of the big picture right now. Don’t think about everything that you have to do today, instead take it one step at a time. Once you get up a step, take a deep breath, let it out, and take another one. Worrying yourself into a nervous wreck isn’t going to help you or us. Sound good?”

  Allen took a breath and then managed a smile, “Sure.”

  “Alrighty then.” Rich opened up his folder and displayed Allen’s resume along with a ream of other papers. “Let’s begin.”

  --

  As expected, the interview with Rich went amazingly well. Not that Allen was particularly proud of that, but it helped. It helped him prepare for his next two interviews. One step at a time. One breath at a time.

  For the most part he thought that he did pretty well on the others. There were a few stumbles here and there and one time where he had to pass on a question but overall he felt like he left with a good feeling on both Steve and Eric. It was as he was shaking hands with Eric and thanking him for his time that Allen realized what was next.

  It was a few minutes before eleven and he knew what was coming. Mr. Brockford. He would have to interview with the owner, the CEO, the bossman, of a billion dollar company. A cold chill ran up his spine causing him to twinge slightly and that feeling, that feeling came back. The feeling of fear, of dread.

  Allen gathered up his resume and notes and then stuffed them in his binder. When he was ready he followed Eric out of the conference room. Instead of being interviewed in the conference room like his other interviews he would be in Mr. Brockford’s office. This fact only added to Allen’s nervousness. He followed Eric down a long and wide hallway that went the length of the building. As he followed him he noticed that Eric walked with a rather large limp on his right leg. At times he dragged it, other times, he lifted it in an exaggerated fashion almost like it had fallen asleep. He thought about asking Eric about it, but decided against it. It didn’t matter, and even if he was curious, it wasn’t a proper question
to ask during an interview.

  At the end of the hallway sat two double wooden doors with no windows on either side of them. One of the doors was open slightly. Before pushing in the door Eric knocked rather loudly on the closed door to get Mr. Brockford’s attention. He waited a few seconds but only silence greeted him. Eric tried again with a harder knock. This time there was a muffled sound of a door opening and then Allen heard a voice come from somewhere inside the office.

  “Yes?”

  “Mr. Brockford, it’s Eric. I have your eleven o’clock interview.”

  “Ah... Yes. Send him in.” The voice had a strange aura to it. It sounded greasy, yet confident.

  Eric pushed the ajar door open all the way and walked Allen into the room. It was unlike any office that Allen had ever seen in person or even on television. The room was so big it could have doubled for a large one bedroom apartment. Directly ahead of them against the far wall was a long rectangular desk. On the closest side of the desk there were two chairs facing the desk. On the opposing side there was a large executive chair that looked to be custom made to accommodate extra girth. Behind the desk was a decorative cabinet with see through glass doors. Lined on each shelf of the cabinet were different types of liquor ranging from vodka and gin all the way over to brandy and rum. On the middle shelf there was what looked to be a humidifier for cigars.

  There was no sign of Mr. Brockford. The room looked to be deserted. Allen looked around trying to find where the voice came from. On the left of the office sat a fully assembled leather sectional along with a coffee table and a loveseat that all matched. It was on the right of the room towards the outer wall where Allen guessed Brockford was. There was a small door that was closed tightly. A small ray of light shone through the bottom of the door.

  “Mr. Brockford will be with you in a moment. Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable.” Eric’s tone of voice and overall mannerisms changed since they got in this office. In the interview he was cordial, friendly, and even funny a few times. All that was gone now and replaced with an extremely formal and somewhat timid demeanor. He reminded Allen of a butler in one of those old movies.