Theocorp - A Stanley Parable AU

Interlude: (Love)Bugged!

Lovebug's keyboard was really noisy. The clacking sound usually calmed him down when he was working on a report. He'd find patterns in his typing: he tended to go in a more linear, rhythmic, predictable fashion when he was calm, and a more frantic, crazed, asymmetrical randomness when he was stressed. This was a frantic day.

Bug's hands flew across the keyboard, speeding up and slowing down at seemingly random intervals. But this was happening for a reason.

Lovebug's brain was currently on overdrive after everything that had happened in the last few days. He kept trying to focus on work, but every ten seconds, he would end up being led astray. A tangent, if you will. And he would gradually slow down to think about everything. And by everything, I mean what Drone's origin story could be.

The alien theory could work, but there were plenty of alien Theos in the office who couldn't shapeshift or break tables. But then again, that was the beauty of aliens. You never know what they can or can't do... but Drone probably wasn't an alien.

And the printer ink thing? That's absolutely how publishing companies work, but it seemed so weird and improbable. And the whole secret-powers thing isn't interesting enough, and was also a very common trope that the author wanted to avoid. It had to be something else, but... what?

Bug leaned back in his chair and looked at the walls of his cubicle, lost in thought. Detailed drawings of people in a variety of art styles were pinned to the walls. Various post-it notes were all over the place, saying, Report due at 4:00!, I know you want to procrastinate on that report mentioned in the previous note, but don't!, and Oh my god. Stop reading post-it notes and get to work, future me!!! And, of course, strung across the ceiling was the pink and red heart-shaped garland that it (the curse) put up. Bug was too tired of taking it down every day, so at this point he'd just given up.

He tousled his messy, dirty blonde hair in frustration. He couldn't work unless he could stop thinking about random things like this, and he wouldn't be thinking about this stuff if he'd just decided to work yesterday.

While scrunching his hair, he had somehow got his hair stuck on something. He rolled his chair over to the small mirror on his wall and peered at it. A strand of his hair got wound around his ear clip. He fiddled with it for a bit, and remembered something: Drone didn't have one. It must be nice, not having to get it snagged on stuff.

Wait– Drone didn't have one??? Lovebug perked up again in the mirror.

"EUREKA!", he yelled, standing up and completely disregarding his tangled hair. "Eureka, eureka, EUREKA!!!" He ran over to a portion of the wall covered in photos and drawings of his friends and, sure enough, Drone didn't have the ear clip that most employees wear. "Oh my god! It's the ear clip! It has to be the ear clip!"

He laughed and pushed his chair back over to the desk. As he sat down, his arm brushed against something on the underside of his desk. He felt around for it for a bit, and eventually found it. He traced the sides of it: it was a small, featureless disk, adhered to the underside of his desk. He peeled it off and held it in his hand. It was black and smooth, maybe an inch in diameter. It was around an eighth of an inch thick, and it had a sticky side for, well, sticking to stuff.

"What the..." Lovebug looked at the disk, puzzled. "I didn't put this here..."

Suddenly, the familiar drowning sensation occurred. He felt the reins of his own body slip away, out of his control. It was so sudden, more sudden than any other time. His body picked up the disc and examined it.

"Oh my god. Oh my god, they didn't." said his voice. "They bugged the goddamn office. We're done for. That's it."

And then he heard the elevator doors open.