DoomPet

Chapter 35 (TW: Gore and angst)

A middle aged man sat in his office cubicle. He was frantically typing away at documents and scribbling down numbers on a piece of paper while his phone was wedged between his cheek and shoulder.

He could hardly focus on documenting causality reports when the ARC bunker he was in was shaking from the footsteps of...

He glanced up from his work at a TV across the haphazardly built office space. A huge humanoid goat creature was destroying what was left of the city. The office was abuzz around him, with some people yelling about reports and coordinates of the beast's rampage, hoping to get some order to the divine chaos around themselves.

He looked away from the TV, it didn't matter what demon was rampaging through humanity today, it was simply another Monday. As long as he kept telling himself that he'd be perfectly fine.

Suddenly there was a blood curdling scream from the cubicle next to him, someone else having another breakdown, undoubtedly... again... it was the third time in this hour.

Of course he couldn't really blame the poor lad next to him for cracking, The man admitted to himself that he was simply shoving his stress under layers of paper work. Trying to ignore the fact that the bunker was shaking so badly his cup of water had just spilled over his papers, making the numbers from the death count tolls merge together into some mathematical abomination.

He was pulled back to attention by the sound of his boss slapping his office neighbor, back handing the man's face again and again until his screams turned to subdued whimpers.

He could hear her snarl nearly every swear word known to man at his neighbor, cursing him for being a worthless coward in the face of humanity's doom. With one final slap the man could hear his neighbor slowly start typing again.

She poked her head into the man's cubicle, "How's it going?" She looked awful. Her eyes were a bright bloodshot and her dark hair was frizzy from hours of working nonstop.

"Oh you know nothing to complain about Elena." The bunker shook again and the lights flicked for a second. The man wanted to curl up and cry. He wanted to go home to his kids, and just give them all a huge hug.

"Of course just another day in the office." She walked in and stood beside his chair looking at the ruined soaking wet paper work. "I see your being very productive, I should ask the higher ups to give you a raise." She let out a little chuckle, desperately trying to keep the man from also losing his mind. ARC had taken some of the best medical minds and put them right on the front lines doing paperwork. It was just something to keep them busy for the main show.

They all knew they were going to die.

"Elena, why are we still here? Why didn't ARC evacuate us? Hell, I'm not even an office worker, I'm a surgeon!" The man hung his head, not daring to make eye contact with his boss, as he scooted the soaking wet papers into a waste basket. His voice wavered, "I want to go home."

She sat down on his desk pushing the only not soaked pile of papers onto the floor, scattering them around the cubicle and out into the office. "The death counts don't matter, hell, even the coordinates don't matter. No one cares anymore just write "a fuckton" in the totals column. The higher ups-"

He leapt out of his chair and the panicked typing in the neighboring cubicles went silent. "SO WE'RE JUST FODDER?"

Gasps went around the room, then screams as the bunker shook again and the lights went out for a few seconds.

"SILENCE!" Elena roared. She stood up on the man's desk, looking over the cubicle walls in the office. "We are here because the higher ups need boots on the ground where the Icon is. I know, you are all doctors of medicine and science, but today we are soldiers on the front lines. We are here because the higher up's need someone to answer if that phone rings. That is our only damn job here! And pray to fucking god that it doesn't ring!"