Thing

The Girl

Humans are not fond of Mondays. 

Thing furiously scribbled this notable observation in her worn leather notebook, scratching away at the off-white page in her trademark loopy script. 

This was the newest of fifteen such notebooks that were in the girl's possession. Hexana Ingle had gifted the first notebook to Thing for her tenth birthday with the instructions to record every nuance of human behavior that she was able to discern- regardless of how simple or seemingly pointless. 

There was only one rule: these theorems had to be proven to the most accurate degree possible within the confines of Thing's small, secure environment. 

Her latest discovery, which she had affectionately dubbed the Pre-Week Postulate, stated that 'if it is Monday, then the staff will perform at below-average levels of efficiency.' 

'The staff' was a rather generic term for her very specific case, Thing admitted. She was only referring to the staff of Level -41 of Ingle Tech International Headquarters. Still, she had deemed the size of this sample large enough to more or less predict the behavior of all low-paid workers in high security environments. 

After years of meticulously graphing and analyzing the performance of these workers, the results were irrefutable. 

Ingle Tech's staff underperformed on the first day of each week. 

The real question was, why?

If Thing was to truly understand the behavior of humans, she had to know not only what they did, but why they did it. She had to be an expert at dissecting the driving impulses of humans- which Hexana had once called 'emotions'- and using them to perfectly stimulate any desired response from a human. 

In short, she had to be like Hexana Ingle. 

Hexana was not like Thing- no, she was very human- but she was about as close to Thing as a human could get. Thing was not supposed to have personal opinions about anyone or anything. That was a right reserved exclusively for humans. However, she didn't see the harm in harboring just a single, slight notion. 

Thing liked Hexana Ingle. 

Her thoughts were quickly interrupted by an ear-piercing shriek. From the frequency of the sound, Thing deduced that the screamer was a female human between the ages of fourteen and eighteen. There was only one person who matched that description with clearance to enter her underground quarters. 

"Idiot!" Azuline Ingle screeched. "That outfit was worth more than your house!" 

"I do not doubt that it was, Miss Ingle," an unfamiliar male voice replied. 

Thing managed to catch a few more snippets of disconnected argument, before Hexana Ingle's daughter- adopted, of course, for Hexana would never engage in a relationship with a man that did not procure her some sort of monetary gain- turned a plain, whitewashed corner into Thing's quarters. 

Azuline was the ideal case study for someone who wished to learn about emotions. She was simply full of them. Anger darkened her crystal blue eyes as she approached Thing, her expensive sapphire dress stained a deep jade. 

"Some fool spilled green acid stuff on me!" she fumed, turning to face the small girl in front of her. 

Thing did not respond to the outburst. She had learned from experience that humans became irrational when provoked. It was best to leave them be in such scenarios. 

"How many times do I have to tell you that she is not your friend?" 

Azuline's shoulders instantly dropped, and a few inches were shaved off her impressive stature at the sound of the cold, commanding voice. Another fact that Thing had learned about humans was that they were all about hierarchies. Whoever and wherever you were, there always was someone above you, and someone below. As the heiress to the world's most powerful company, Azuline Ingle was pretty high up there, but even she knew to bow down to the Queen.