After several minutes in uncomfortable silence, the elevator stopped on the bottom floor. I already had an uneasy feeling in my stomach and arriving in the basement hadn't relieved my nerves. The doors slid open revealing a reception area like the one that we had come into, except this one wasn't quite so sleek. It was dark and ominous. The walls were a dubious shade of green and the paint was peeling off the walls. I expected guards of some kind but the room was eerily empty. Jackson, clearly having been here a million times before, headed to the door directly in front of us. I followed blindly, not wanting to be left behind. We passed through the door into a hallway with more doors lining the sides. I thought it was pretty odd but we carried on regardless. Soon we had been through about five different doors and I was getting anxious. What were all the doors for? It seemed pretty unnecessary.
I cleared my throat. "Uh, Jackson?" He hardly even flinched.
"What?"
"Why so many doors?"
"No questions."
And I was stupid enough to think that he was getting nicer. I rolled my eyes. Finally we reached a larger than normal door with an elaborate lock next to the handle and a device that required a code. I figured we'd reached this bosses office and the nerves that had been replaced with annoyance previously, returned with a purpose. Jackson pressed a button, declared his name and punched in several numbers. The door unlocked with a loud click and he pushed through it, revealing a large, dark room. There was a desk and a hefty leather chair with it's back facing us. As the door clunked shut behind us, the chair slowly swung around and sitting in it was a middle-aged man. He was wearing a suit and had grey-ish colour hair. His chubby fingers held several gold rings.
"Jackson." He smirked, showing off his yellowing teeth.
"You've got to be kidding me." I murmured under my breath. It was so cliché I could have laughed. I was half expected him to say, "I've been expecting you" or something. He must have heard me because suddenly his creepy gaze settled on me. I looked at the floor and could feel Jackson's glaring eyes on me as well.
"You must be Lisa." Even though I wasn't looking, I could tell he'd gotten up from his chair and was making his way towards me. I shuffled back subtly, not wanting to be anywhere near him. Jackson had a different idea I guess, seeing as he placed his hand on my lower back and shoved me back forward roughly. The man, whose name I still didn't know, extended his hand towards me.
"Robert Fisher. Jackson's boss."
I turned my gaze from the floor, up to him. He was a lot more intimidating up front. Not wanting to look like a coward, however, I reached my hand out slowly.
"Lisa Reisert. But you knew that anyway, right?" He laughed quietly and returned to his seat. Jackson sighed, probably rolling his eyes.
"Take a seat." He gestured towards the chairs that were placed in front of his desk. As Jackson and I sat down, Robert Fisher reached into his drawer and pulled out a cigar. He lit it and relaxed into his seat, closing his eyes for a second. I never really saw the appeal of cigars, or cigarettes for that matter. I couldn't imagine getting any pleasure from them whatsoever. His eyes snapped back open quickly.
"Oh sorry, how rude of me. Cigar?" He gestured towards the both of us. I shook my head slowly. Jackson cleared his throat.
"No, thanks."
"Suit yourselves." He took another drag and stared at me as he blew out the smoke.
"So, how are you doing Lisa?" His tone was almost sincere but it was impossible to miss the mocking.
"Enough of the shit, why am I here?" Maybe it was the smirk that pushed me off the edge but my patience was quickly wearing thin.
His eyes widened towards Jackson. "Feisty."
