Her high heels echoed as she walked out of the service staircase and into the marble hallway of the building's top floor. The heavy wooden doors, marked "Executive Offices", waited for her at the end of the corridor.
She knew he should still be there, as she turned the ever-polished ever-bright brass doorknob. She then stepped inside and found him there, seated in front of a reproduction of Caravaggio's David and Goliath. It was not as hard as they--the veterans--had said, she thought.
"O iha, akala ko ba tapos na shift mo?" he casually asked, surprised at her arrival. "Baka naman masobrahan ka na sa OT nyan."
The remark nearly caught her off-guard. She tried to look the part--stoic, cold. This was a man, that despite all her preconceived notions, managed to earn her respect in the short time that she "worked" for him. It was just so sad that we had to be on opposite sides, she thought.
"Sir--"
"Yes?"
She hesitated...but she felt the cold metal brush against her skin, with only her thin blouse between steel and flesh.
"I'm sorry."
She drew the gun and shot him in the head, point-blank.
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Revision: 26Sep08
Her high heels echoed as she walked out of the service staircase and into the marble hallway of the building's top floor. The heavy wooden doors, marked "Executive Offices", waited for her at the end of the corridor.
Such a far cry from where she began, just another employee from a rival company. Then the offer came to join the elite Circle; and propelled by the need to do something about her mother's allegedly accidental death, she said yes.
She knew he would still be there, as she reached the door and turned the ever-polished, ever-bright brass doorknob. Probably poring over work—and the little dirty details associated with it, such as forcing another company CEO to resign. But no matter--the business is dirty as it is.
She then stepped inside and found him seated in front of a reproduction of Caravaggio's David and Goliath. It was not as hard as they—the veterans—had said, she thought.
"O iha, akala ko ba tapos na shift mo?" he casually asked, surprised at her arrival. "Baka naman masobrahan ka na sa OT nyan."
The remark nearly caught her off-guard. She tried to look the part--stoic, cold. This was a man, that despite all her preconceived notions, managed to earn her respect in the short time that she "worked" for him. 'It's just so sad that we had to be on opposite sides,' she thought. Had only he joined their side.
"Sir--"
"Yes?"
She hesitated...but she felt the cold metal brush against her skin, with only her thin blouse between steel and flesh.
"I'm sorry."
She drew the gun and shot him in the head, point-blank.
