Short Tales of Abominations

Sticks

Jule and Havord sat together in a rather droll room made of concrete bricks lined with gray plastic base boards. The floor could have used a good mopping but the two had become so accustomed to remaining parked in their seats that neither showed the initiative to actually clean it. Every morning they left with stuffy noses from the dust that was kicked up from the floor as they slid their chairs around the different monitoring stations.

They worked the late shift watching the cameras for an old factory that was only a year and a half from being torn down due to structural deterioration. This claim wasn't necessarily true, but it kept them hoping for a new building with a climate controlled security station.

Jule was young, dumb and full of counter-intuitive ideas that got him exactly no where in the last three years since he graduated high school. He had tried to be an engineer at the very factory he worked at, but he had trouble admitting he didn't know a damn thing about mechanics or electricity. Often showing his teachers rather then telling. Showing of course, meaning screaming about burnt fingertips as he touched the "Awfully phallic-looking" resistor set up in a simulated cabinet of a crane.

Havord was ten years his senior, heavier-set, lazy and wore a mullet. He liked to party and live everyday without so much as breaking a sweat. Being among the few who could actually stand the stuffiness of the room they sat in, he was the longest standing security guard at the place. He had negotiated a very comfortable paycheck from HR, proving his wit and intelligence to those around him. He could have done more with his life, if only he hadn't been so lazy.

The two men got along great. Often watching the same shows on the now saturated market of streaming services or simply talking about random things with the energy of a comedic duo. Many of their nights were spent almost completely ignoring the monitors over their jovial conversations or having small panic attacks when the screens flickered for only a moment.

Tonight's great discussion involved starting a podcast, with Jule arguing against the idea and Havord arguing for it. Jule's points were that podcasts were only mildly successful if the people on it were already famous. Havord countered by saying that their jokes would make them famous. Jule simply shook his head and said that they were stoner comedy material and that brand of movie had long ago died out.

"We're not talking movies though," Havord sighed, "We're talking podcasts."

"I was using movies as an example."

"Dude, where's my car? Is incredibly famous though, and that's a stoner flick."

"Most people who see that movie nowadays call it stupid."

"Only because the people have lost their way."

"You sure the times haven't changed?" Jule sleepily asked.

"That's what I meant," Havord picked at his teeth, "People see in black and white and as a whole, instead of looking at the good parts of the movie, they judge the whole thing on the few parts they don't like!"

"I think humor's just changed over the years."

"Either everything's funny or nothing is funny," Havord grumbled.

"Whatever dude," Jule shook his head in frustration, "Next topic please."

"How old was you're mom when she had you?" Havord asked, barely missing a blinking light illuminating on the motion detection panel to his right.

Eager to ignore the question, Jule pushed passed him and looked at the screen. At first he couldn't quite process what he had seen. It looked as though someone had drawn a stick figure on the camera. However it wasn't like a normal stick figure. The head was a flat vertical line and it was given shoulders.