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  Allen turned towards Eric, reached out hand and said, “Thanks for your time today.”

  Eric smiled at him but said nothing. A second later he turned around and walked out of the office without making a sound. As he left he carefully shut the door behind him trying not to make a sound. Allen was now alone in Mr. Brockford’s office waiting for him to emerge from the door on the right.

  As Allen waited for Mr. Brockford his eyes scanned the room over and over again looking for something to occupy his mind, something to distract himself from the feeling of dread. There were framed photos all over the walls throughout the entire office. Some of them showed buildings being constructed, others showed ribbon cutting ceremonies, and some just showed close up pictures of various people. Along with the pictures there were numerous plaques and awards mounted on the walls like trophies. It was as Allen was scanning the room that he saw it. It was on the left wall between the desk and the seating area. Curious, Allen got up from his chair and walked over to it somewhat entranced. As he got closer to it he could see the black lettering imprinted on the handle. Starting at the hilt of the sledgehammer and going all the way to the bottom read, “Brockford Construction.” It had a long solid wood handle that looked perfectly smooth. Allen’s eyes followed the handle up to the base of the hammer. There the wood inserted itself into the solid metal block. The sledgehammer was mounted on a large wooden plaque. There were three supports sticking out from the plaque that allowed the hammer to rest suspended in the air. It looked like you could just lift up and pull the hammer right off. He wasn’t sure why, but there was just something about this hammer that pulled him towards it, that almost made him look at it.

  Allen was still looking at the hammer but now had stepped slightly to the left so that he could see the base of the hammer more clearly. There were scrapes and dents all along the base of the metal. The hammer had definitely been used before. It wasn’t just decorative. He could see at the very top of the head of the hammer where the wood peaked out slightly from the center. It was there where the handle and the head met that Allen saw something peculiar. It looked like a stain. It was somewhat brown and spattered across the wooden handle and the head. He moved his head closer to the hammer trying to get a better look. Was that dried blood? There was that feeling again. That feeling of foreboding. That feeling that he had to get out of here as soon as possible. His mind was practically screaming at him. Turn around now! Run out of the office! There’s still time!

  “Good morning Mr. Kennedy,” a booming voice came from behind him. Allen hadn’t heard the door open. “Do you like my hammer?”

  Chapter 3 - Brockford

  Allen whipped himself around somewhat clumsily. There standing in the middle of the room was Mr. Brockford. He was a short man but his girth more than made up for this lack of height. His thigh was easily the size of Allen’s chest, he had the appearance of a former athlete who had let himself go over the years. He wore a pair of tightly fitted slacks along with a button up dress shirt whose button’s looked like they were going to burst at any moment. Along with the shirt was a dark blue tie that looked like it had to have cost over a hundred dollars. His neck and cheeks had a bright red flush to them that Allen wasn’t sure if they were always like that or if the tie was so tight around his neck that it was cutting off circulation.

  “I was… just admiring your office, sir.”

  “I see.” Brockford took a step forward towards Allen and reached out his hand. “Robert Brockford.”

  Allen met him halfway and their hands collided into a forceful handshake. Brockford’s grip felt like a crocodile’s bite. “Allen Kennedy,” Allen said while trying to hide a grimace from the pain in his hand.

  “Now that we’ve got that out of the way what do you say we get to know each other?” Mr. Brockford worked his way behind his desk and plopped himself down in his extra wide executive chair. The chair squeaked in protest as his weight settled in. Brockford signaled for Allen to take a seat on the other side of the desk. Allen complied as quickly as he could.

  “So, Allen, why do you want to work for Brockford Construction?” As Brockford spoke the fat on his neck seemed jiggle and move back and forth.

  “Well… sir. I’ve always found the construction industry interesting and thought there would be no better place to learn than in the biggest construction company in the city.”

  Brockford took a deep breath, sighed, and then said, “Cut the bullshit.”

  “I’m sorry, sir… What?” Allen’s tie felt even tighter than it had been. Sweat was beginning to drip from his head. His brain was still screaming. Get out! Get out!

  “I said cut the bullshit. I don’t deal in bullshit. Tell me the real reason you want to work here.” Brockford’s voice had changed somehow. He wasn’t yelling but there was something about the tone of his voice that made Allen uneasy.

  Allen thought for a few seconds and then answered as honestly as he could, “Sir, I want to make money.”

  Brockford looked at him for a second from across the desk. There was a minute of silence where they both sat there in their chairs staring at each other. Then, without warning, Brockford’s right hand slapped the edge of the desk causing the desk to shake and then he burst into laughter. As he laughed his already flushed red face seemed to have grown an even deeper shade of red. It was nearly purple now.

  “You’re goddamn right! That’s the only reason any of us are here, including me. You think I started this business because I found it interesting? Hell no!” He was still chuckling off and on as he spoke. “Now, I know that you come recommended from Rich Turner. Rich has been with us for about a year now and he’s done great work for us. Over that year he’s become a part of the family here at Brockford. I give his words considerable weight. You’ve already interviewed with Steve and Eric as well and they have both e-mailed me with a thumbs up. Things are looking good for you Mr. Kennedy.”

  Allen gave a somewhat forced smile and said, “Thank you sir.”

  “The only thing standing between you and seventy-thousand a year is me.” Brockford leaned forward in his chair slightly and smiled. The smile somehow accentuated the folds in his neck and cheeks.

  Seventy-thousand dollars? Seventy-thousand dollars? Could this be happening? Allen couldn’t even fathom going from a measly ten dollars an hour all the way up to seventy-thousand a year in a day’s time. He tried to hide his excitement but he couldn’t help himself. His life was about to change entirely. No more living at his parent’s house. No more shitty ten year old car. Hell, he could even bring a girl back to his place for the first time in his life.

  Mr. Brockford continued, “I like to pride myself on what I can see in people. I feel like it’s what helped me build such a great company. I didn’t build all of these buildings, my employees did. It takes a family. With that being said I feel comfortable with you. I feel that you’ll fit in here. I won’t be asking you the typical interview questions. Those have already asked to death. The questions that I do have for you may seem a little unorthodox but it is of the utmost importance that you answer them. Ok?”

  The feeling of unease that Allen had been feeling ever since he stepped into the building was still there but it was lessened. It felt like the feeling had somehow been buried. Buried by the thought of seventy-thousand dollars.

  “Ok.”

  “Very well. What does family mean to you?”

  Allen sat there across the desk from Mr. Brockford with a puzzled look on his face. Family? What did family mean? He tried thinking of his family, his parents, his grandparents. What did they mean to him?

  “If I was to pick one word then I would have to say loyalty, sir. Family means loyalty.”

  Brockford gave him the biggest smile that Allen had seen yet. The folds under his neck jiggled back and forth as his smile formed. “Exactly. That’s exactly right! Before you join us here at Brockford Construction I need to know that I have your loyalty.” Brockford stopped talking, moved his chair forward,
and then leaned in on his desk. “I’ve made a lot of people here very wealthy and all I’ve asked from them in return is their loyalty and devotion. Do I have that from you Allen? Do I have your loyalty? Do you want to join our family?”

  With each question that Brockford asked his voice became louder, more intense. His faded blue eyes were locked with Allen’s. They were unwavering and unrelenting. They stared into his with each word that he spoke like a rattlesnake staring at a mouse just before it attacked. Allen’s heart raced. His mind was racing back and forth trying to decide what to do. He was this close to finally starting his career, to finally making something of himself. But, at the same time that ever persistent feeling, no voice, was back in his head. The voice was telling him to turn down Brockford’s offer and to get the hell out of here. Something wasn’t right here, he could feel it. The blood on the sledgehammer surfaced in his mind again. Was it actually blood?

  “Well Allen. What is your answer,” Brockford asked him while his giant fingers tapped rhythmically against his desk. Allen noticed a wedding ring band on his his left hand. The ring looked to be five sizes too small. The flesh around Brockford’s finger looked to be swallowing the poor ring whole.

  “Yes. Yes, you have my loyalty. I will join your family,” as Allen said the words his throat felt dry and alien almost like they weren’t coming from him.

  “And you understand that commitment and what it entails?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Excellent. When can you start?”

  “I’ll put my two weeks in today.” Allen knew it was a lie but he felt that he had to say it. He had to give the illusion that he was still employed, had to give the illusion that he at least gave a shit about his former employer. What kind of example would it give to Brockford if he left his other company high and dry?

  “No. That won’t do.” Brockford’s voice and demeanor changed almost instantly and as it did his cheeks and forehead became flushed with a deeper red color. “You work for us now. I don’t give a damn about your other company and neither should you. They are history. It’s nearly noon on a Tuesday. How about you start this Thursday?”

  Unsure of what else to say, or even do at this point Allen said, “Yes sir, sounds good.”

  The smile came up on Brockford’s face again almost automatically. Allen was sure at this point that it was insincere. “Good. We will see you then.” Brockford stood up from his chair and extended a hand over the desk. “It was nice to meet you Allen. I look forward to be working with you.”

  Allen stood up with Brockford and extended his hand as well. They shook and yet again Allen was reminded of the alligator’s bite of a grip. Allen thanked Brockford for his time and the opportunity and then turned around to walk out of the room. As he walked out of the office his peripheral vision was drawn to the sledgehammer to the right of him. It hung there taunting him, watching him as he left.

  He couldn’t help but feel like he’d just made a deal with the devil.

  Chapter 4 - First Day

  That Thursday morning Allen sat in the Brockford parking lot waiting for the first car to show up. It was just past six-thirty in the morning and Allen was the only one there. He wanted to make a good first day’s impression. He wanted to be the first one there and he wanted to personally greet Mr. Brockford as he came in.

  At just before seven Brockford pulled into the parking lot driving a new looking Lexus LS460. The sunlight reflected off of it giving it an almost surreal look. He pulled into the space at the very front of the building next to the entrance. The space was not marked or identified for him but Allen assumed that it was an unwritten rule that that was his spot. Allen watched him in his rearview mirror. He was waiting for him to leave his car. A few minutes went by before the driver’s side door opened and then Brockford climbed out of the car with a briefcase in one hand and a pile of keys in another.

  Allen got out of his car right after him and began to walk across the parking lot towards him. With each step his nervousness built. His apprehension built. He had no idea where the feeling came from. He knew that he already had the job… but that feeling was still there like an itch that he couldn’t quite reach. When he was only a few feet away Allen said, “Good morning Mr. Brockford.”

  Brockford was looking down at his keys trying to find the right one to open the building and hadn’t noticed Allen. His thinned brown hair revealed more skin than hair. At the sound of his voice he stumbled and dropped the keys onto the sidewalk below him. They hit with a clank and a jangle. Allen stood there staring not knowing what to do.

  Brockford bent down, with what looked like great difficulty, and picked up the keys. As he came back up to a standing position his head looked upwards, upwards towards Allen. The face that greeted him terrified Allen. It was full of malice and hate. It was contorted and misshapen. It was the face of a man ready to attack. Almost as soon as he had seen it the face transitioned into a neutral expression and then immediately into a faux smile. It was the smile of a cheesy used car salesman.

  “Good morning Allen. Good to see you could make it this early. I can let you in but you won’t be able to get much done until Rich or one of the human resource girls comes in about thirty minutes from now.” As he spoke Allen could almost see his annoyance starting to resurface onto his face.

  “Thank you Mr. Brockford.” Allen followed him inside and as he did he felt a lump of fear twinge in his stomach.

  The rest of the day was rather uneventful, thankfully. Once everybody got into the office the first hour was spent filling out various bits of paperwork, forms, and agreements. The most exciting out of all of these was the salary arrangement. As an entry level analyst his base salary was seventy-thousand dollars plus an opportunity for a twenty percent annual bonus. He felt like he was dreaming and at any moment he would wake up to the past where he was wearing his smock and slaving away at minimum wage helping irate customers. But he never did wake up. Every minute that passed this seemed more and more real. He was on his way. Life could finally begin.

  It turned out Rich was going to be his boss. He had somehow forgot to mention this to Allen throughout their interviews but Allen was ok with it. In fact, he was more than comfortable with it. This was his first time in a corporate environment and having a friend, rather he be a distant friend, as a boss seemed like it would help things. It helped too that he was a good teacher.

  --

  After a few weeks of going through the motions and learning the ropes of his new job things seemed to be going pretty well. He had received his first paycheck the other day and he was still shocked by the amount. It didn’t seem real. He had to go physically go into his bank and personally check the balance just to make sure it was all there. Soon after he received it, he began looking at apartments nearby. He had already taken tours of some of them. The one that he had his eyes on was a complex called Shaded Meadows. It was an older set of apartments that was surrounded by mature pine trees. It looked peaceful, and private. Along with the apartments he was also looking at buying a new car. It didn’t have to be anything fancy; it just had to be something within the past couple years. Something that had built in Bluetooth, cruise control, and all of those other unnecessary features.

  Throughout most of his work days he rarely saw Mr. Brockford. Allen’s cubicle was down the long hallway towards Brockford’s office but halfway there the hallway opened up to the right and revealed a sea of cubicles and small offices. Allen’s cube was in the middle of them all facing the hall. It had a depressing gray color to it and its walls were so high that you couldn’t see anyone else around you. There were no windows of any kind, only the glow of the brightly lit incandescent lights above. He had met a few co-workers here and there but for the most part he had either kept to himself or spent his time working and talking directly with Rich. Rich’s office was on just the other side of his cubicle. It was small but he atleast had a window and a door. The few times that Allen did see Mr. Brockford were random and sporadic. When
he did come out of his office an un-coordinated hush would come across the floor. There was always a constant murmur of phones and voices going back and forth but somehow when Brockford was on the floor everything ceased to be, almost like it was some unspoken rule.

  On one of these days Allen came in early in the morning at just past seven. He was behind on building a financial report for their new Des Moines location and wanted to get a head start before the busyness of the day started. There were only two other cars in the parking lot and one of them was Brockford’s Lexus pulled up in his usual front parking space. It was immaculate and glinted in the rising sunlight. The other car Allen had recognized from seeing it day and day out but he didn’t know who drove it. Allen climbed the winding stairs slowly until he got to the third floor with the closed door. He knew the key code by now and leaned over, punched in the numbers 4-2-3-2 and then heard the click as the door popped open. He began walking down the long hallway towards his cubicle. Most of the lights were still off and it gave an eerie glow to the building. The gray cubicles looked even darker than usual and as Allen walked he imagined something hiding behind the walls of the cubicles, crouching on the desk, lying in wait for an unsuspecting person to walk by. Waiting to pounce. He shivered with each step that he took.

  It was as he was walking with his mind occupied about crouching cubicle creatures that he heard it. The noise came from just down the hall in the break room. The break room split off of the main hallway on the left hand side. It was a rather small room that had four tables in it, some chairs, a kitchen counter complete with microwave and sink, and a good sized refrigerator. The noise that he heard was screaming, no it was yelling. Who needed fictional cubical monsters when there was a real monster already in the building? Allen had to walk by the break room to get to his cubicle. With each step that he took the yelling continued and although he didn’t think it was possible, it got louder.