Short Stories Galore

Addict With a Pen (Horror)

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Title: Addict With a Pen

Plot Synopsis: Jack McCall needs a goddamn cigarette. 

Genre: Horror

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I’d kill for a cigarette.

Jack McCall fidgeted uncomfortably at his desk, a black biro twirling around his fingers.

I would kill for a cigarette.

The blank computer screen leered tauntingly at him, the cursor blinking incessantly, reminding him of his incapability to produce a leading article for the New York Times. His boss would have his head if he failed to cough up one more time.

“You alright McCall?” Jack’s head snapped to his neighbouring co-worker who was peering over the dividers that separated the writer’s from one another. The chubby man seemed genuinely concerned but Jack didn’t take the bait. He knew what his co-workers thought of him.

Lazy.

Incompetent.

“I’m fine thanks, Mark.” Jack managed a smile.

“You appear to be having some trouble.” Mark nodded to the computer.

Go away.

“Oh no, I’m just thinking is all,” Jack replied through gritted teeth. Mark’s mouth twitched slightly, as if fighting a smile (or a sneer) and disappeared back behind the dividers.

Jack McCall’s nostrils flared.

I really need a goddamn cigarette.

Pushing the sleeve of his leather jacket up, he checked his digital watch desperately. Ten minutes until his break. He stared once more at the cruel computer screen and realised he was going to get nowhere. Taking the black biro with him, he stood up abruptly, causing the plastic chair to screech painfully against the tile flooring. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mark staring blatantly at him. Ignoring it, Jack made his way out of his ‘office,’ his hands playing with the pen, heart beating from irritation and a frantic need for a damn cigarette!

It was as if a siren had gone off as suddenly every writer, every editor, every publisher in the entire building was staring at him. Jack’s heart rate increased dramatically and his palms began to sweat ridiculously so.

Need a cigarette.

Swallowing, he spotted the coffee machine and tried to reach it as fast as he could without actually running. In Jack’s mind, a coffee would do him wonders.

“Oi, McCall!” Jack froze in his tracks and turned around to see the most awful woman in all of human history approaching him. Sarah Waters. Sarah Waters with a horrible, brown bob and unfortunate acne dotting her face. “How’s the writing going? Or should I say, ‘dog pile,’ as that is all you seem to be capable of coming up with?”

Anger rose fiercely and dangerously inside of Jack and his hand clutched the pen so tightly his knuckles turned white. He heard the biro creak from the pressure and gripped it even more so.

“Sarah. Always a pleasure,” Jack replied stiffly. The woman sneered.

“You just wait McCall. One day I’m going to have your job and you’re going to be on the streets begging for your dinner.” The silence ensuing this comment was deafening. Jack couldn’t hear anything but the pounding of his infuriated heart. Rage was boiling through his veins until he felt almost mad with it.

Before Jack could retaliate, another co-worker led Sarah away who was now fuming at the mouth, reminding Jack of a rabid dog. As soon as the vile woman was out of sight, Jack’s grip on the pen loosened but his anger did not. He could still feel it running its course throughout his body.

I would kill for a cigarette.

Jack was suddenly aware of the staring and he glared at the nearest person who looked away immediately, almost knocking over a desk plant in the process. Storming towards the coffee machine, he made a quick cup of the bitter beverage and sculled the scalding drink, burning his throat. The pain lessened the anger slightly.

From here, Jack had a perfect view of his boss’s office and his eyes just happened to pass over the open windows of the room. The balding man was sitting at his desk, chuckling at something his client had said who was opposite him, his back to Jack. This wasn’t what caught his attention however. It was what his boss was holding in his hand.

A cigarette.

Something inside of Jack snapped. Such hatred, desire and rage overtook his body until he was seeing red. There was only one thing on his mind. And God knew he wanted that cigarette.

Flinging open his boss’s door, he stood there with the black biro raised above his head. The two men in the room looked at him with eyes filled with fear and bewilderment.

“M-McCall-?” his boss didn’t get to finish his sentence as Jack leapt at the man across the desk, bringing the pen down and piercing his boss’s skin. The man roared with pain and Jack cackled with glee, ignoring the feeble attempts of the client trying to stop him. Jack brought the pen down again and again, all the while screaming for his cigarette. He didn’t stop until his boss’s blood stained his hands and the man was motionless beneath him.

Stepping back, he admired his work, watching as deep red pooled onto the desk and the floor. Before the blood could touch the cigarette he picked it up and put it into his mouth with a groan. 

“Thanks for the cigarette, sir.”