Steel Disciples

CHAPTER THREE: ELECTRIC

"You can leave when you're finished and not a second before," his boss announced. She was a large set woman with auburn hair and brown eyes, her lips were thick and painted a rather alarming shade of red. It wasn't attractive, it was more of an eyesore than anything else. That went the same for her bright red uniform. All of the cinema staff wore red, but hers seemed to stand out a lot more. He, himself, had a cheaply made red shirt and black trousers. In her case, it was a knee length dress that was tremendously painful to look at. As she turned away and headed down the corridor, Jason pulled a face at the back of her head. He'd never liked her, not even since he'd started working at the place. She was all tell and never ask, and no matter how he did with the work it was never up to her standards. He was sure those standards were unreachable, but he kept pushing himself anyway. Sometimes he did wonder why. With a sigh, he took one look over the room he'd been left with.

He'd switched the light on a second before, and whilst his eyes adjusted he noticed just how big the job was. Whoever it was that had been working in here before clearly didn't know how to tidy up after themselves. There were rolls of tape spread all across the room, on tables, and some on the floor. One he spotted was beneath the very shelf that it should have been placed onto. They'd obviously been indulging themselves on the cinema's snacks as there were empty packets of peanuts and other food in a pile next to the chair. Even if he should clean all of that up and organise it with considerable speed, he'd still have to spend another half hour on top of that wiping down the surfaces and sweeping the floor. He sighed once more, although it turned into an exhausted groan after a couple of seconds. There was doubt in his mind that he'd be leaving this place any time before nine. He knew his parents would be worried if he was out much past half eight, but he wasn't being given a choice. He reached over to place the broom in his hand up against the nearest wall, careful to balance it so that it wouldn't fall, and then set about reorganising the tapes.

The job wasn't strenuous. It was easy, all things considered, but it was a long one. It was a task that had slowly began to bore Jason out of his mind. There were times where he simply felt like walking away and pretending it was all finished; knowing full well that no matter how hard he tried it wouldn't be good enough for his excuse for a manager. His principles kept him going, however, and it was half an hour later when the power went out. There was a sharp snapping noise, a heavy clink, and the ceiling lamps turned off. He was plunged into darkness immediately, and his first response was to groan again. Changing the light bulbs was an added effort on top of everything he was already doing, and you'd have to be having a laugh to think he even knew where the light bulbs were kept. He placed down the bin that he'd been carrying around the room on the table before opening the door into the corridor. The power was still functioning within it, and made it easy for him to head towards his manager's office. After a slightly irritating and unnecessary lengthy argument about the state of the room he'd been cleaning, Jason managed to get his hands on a couple of replacement bulbs and headed back to the projection room. From outside, the room looked a lot less inviting than it did before. The shadows and the darkness within it set his mind into a state of unease, but he shook it off. To think he'd let himself be scared of the dark at this age. He emptied the bin into a plastic bag so he was able to turn it over and use it as a step stool to reach the lights, but he still had to stretch. He wasn't short, at least not obviously so, but the ceiling was considerable high. Changing the bulb wasn't easy using only the light from the corridor. The first he managed successfully with no trouble, but the second bulb was giving him more issues than he thought it possibly could. The metal had managed to melt and stick to the plastic holder, and he didn't want to hold the glass hard enough that it could smash in his hand. He'd rather go home with all of his fingers intact. After about a minute of attempts, the screw finally loosened enough that he could turn it an inch or so before it wouldn't go any further. He turned it back and forth in the small gap that he'd made, but was stopped suddenly as a bright blue spark lashed out and caught his fingertip. He drew his hand away with a hiss fast enough that he nearly lost his balance and fell from his makeshift step. It stung, and his entire arm tingled as a result. There was no burning, but he still clutched his left hand within his right and shot the broken bulb a look of pure hatred. It took him a moment to get over the shock of the experience to realise that the electricity hadn't been switched on. He'd made sure to turn the power off before changing the bulb, and he wasn't sure he'd ever heard of someone being electrocuted in such a situation. With a huff and a frown, he took to ignoring the hint of pain in his forearm and went back to trying to fix the bulb. After a minute more of fiddling around, he finally managed to change it around and climb down from the step stool. The upturned metal bin slipped on the wooden flooring as he made the attempt, and he stumbled on the way down. He was about ready to leave at that point, but he knew he still had half a job to finish. He reached out to flick the light switch, and though it responded with a pronounced click, he still remained standing in darkness. A few more clicks, and the only thing that changed was that a few of the lights within the corridor that he could see from the open door also went out. He was sure they weren't connected to this specific switch, though. The lights refused to come back on, and he wasn't a decent enough electrician to even try and figure out why.