Diminished

I don’t know when I finally fell asleep, but the next morning I woke up too late. The sun was too bright. I quickly reached for my phone and found it to be out of battery. I cursed under my breath, then sat up. It’s not like Tessa would mind. It’s like she said, she wasn’t going to fire me.

The factory workers popped into my head. I dressed quickly and left.

The scene playing out in the lobby was surreal. In fact, it made me wonder if I’d awaken to my alarm soon, phone charged, finding all of this to be a dream.

Cecile stood in a bright red pantsuit in front of a full sized bed. Its frame was thin and wooden, and most notably there was something moving beneath the canary yellow bedspread. Or maybe… there was more than one something moving. There was a small group of tenants gathered, no one I recognized amongst them except for Richard, who was reading a magazine behind his desk. Cecile was shouting.

“Liberation! Full demonstration of autonomy! Behold, ultimate expression of what it is to be human! My opponent would have this hidden away in a crusty basement. No… he’d have it banished altogether, forbidden in his building! He’d have you take your humanity, your most natural desires, and lock them away forever.”

As she finished her last sentence, Tom walked in through the lobby doors. It took him quite a bit of time to process what was taking place. We all stopped, including Cecile, to watch it happen. His face reddened slowly, but surely. He began to shake, this phenomenon becoming more and more pronounced. His teeth were bared, and I thought I could make out a growl.

Then, he fainted.

Everyone remained dead silent. We stayed this way for a few moments. Then, someone under the bedspread moaned, and we all snapped back to reality. Cecile continued to shout. A few tenants ran over to Tom and discussed who’d call 911. I took one more look around, and left for the factory.

I nearly sprinted all the way there. I must be overthinking it all, but still…

When I arrived, what I saw was worse than I could have imagined.

I saw a mess of bodies littered on the sidewalk. Legs bent unnaturally, mouths and eyes wide open. Nearly out of breath, I knelt beside one of them. This was the one who’d stolen the order schedule. I felt for a pulse.

He was alive.

I ran to body after body, searching for life. There were five of them, all of which without apparent injury, all of which unconscious, all of which alive. What had happened? There were picket signs between the bodies, a couple of the workers were still tightly gripping theirs.

I heard a shrill, feral scream come from inside. I threw open one of the factory doors. The inside of the factory was nearly exactly as I’d seen it the night before. The parts on the conveyor belts were in the same position. In the daylight, the desolation of the place was much more pronounced. The walls were bare, the conveyor belts were in the center of the wide open space, and the only colors present were gray, black, and stainless steel.

The scream again. I looked around frantically. Where?

The office. I sprinted up the metal steps and threw open the office door.

The screams belonged to the short, bald man. The leader. A detached metal hand was firmly lodged in his upper arm, the ridged metal edges had dug through the skin. There was blood streaming from his navy blue uniform and his face was contorted in pain. Behind the desk sat a middle aged man with combed back white hair and piercing blue eyes. He wore a gray suit and a navy blue tie, same color as the workers’ uniforms. He sat calmly, hands folded.

“I can help you,” the man said. “I’m not sure how you got yourself in this position, but I can help you get out of it.” His voice was dangerously cool. When he spoke I felt the room freeze over.

“Fuck… you!” the bald man sputtered.

“I see. Then I’ll wait. I’m sure you’ll come around eventually.”

I heard a distinct crunch and the worker screeched wretchedly. Was the hand tightening? Crushing bones? It wasn’t attached to any other machinery, so why…

“You could lose the arm if you don’t act soon,” the man in the suit said. “Now, I’ve called an ambulance, but you know how these things go in the city. It could take a while, and by then… it could be too late, unfortunately.”

The worker fell to his knees, desperately pulling at the hand stuck in his arm.

“All you have to do,” the man continued, “is ask for my help. Of course, nothing is unconditional, but I can’t have an employee of mine suffer for such a simple mistake.”

“I just-” the worker said before wheezing in pain, “I just walked past the damn machine and-”

“Without properly checking if you’d left it on or not? You know, protocols are in place for a reason, I’m afraid. And you,” he said, not taking his eyes off the worker, “what’s your business here?”

He was talking to me. I wasn’t even worth his gaze.

“I…”

What was it? Why couldn’t I say anything? It was the way the man spoke. He was an insurmountable force. All I could do was comply.

“You can’t help him. He must help himself. It’s the only way,” the man said. “He dug this hole, and now he will climb back out.”

“YOU… BASTARD!” the worker said, writhing on the floor.

“Ah, that’s not the way to speak to your superior. But considering the circumstances, it’s understandable,” the man said. “I’ll overlook it this time.”

There was nothing I could do. It was me and the worker and the boss and I was stuck inside a box that I couldn’t escape from.

Another crunch.

“FINE! Just this fucking thing off of me!”

“If that’s what you want. But I only know of one way. Please, follow me. The man walked past me as though I was an especially unimportant fly. He waited by the balcony for the worker to struggle to his feet and follow. They went down the metal stairs, the worker crying out intermittently, and stopped at a machine with a metal arm, but no hand.

Their voices echoed throughout the empty factory, I could clearly hear their conversation from the balcony. I found myself unable to get closer. The scene below was exerting such force…

“Alright, this is the only way I know to do this, but there will be risks. You’re the expert on the machinery, after all. I can’t say exactly what will happen other than you’ll be free of this hand.”

“Just do it!”

“But I need you to tell me you understand that there’s a risk involved here. And I’m not responsible for it. I’m just someone who’s offering to help you is all.”

“I understand the fucking risk!”

“Alright then. I’ll take that as verbal consent.”

The man hit a few buttons on an interface on the machine, and the arm swung over, pointing toward the worker.

“Now, all we need to do is this,” the suited man said as he connected the hand to the arm. Then, he hit another button.

The sound of the worker’s arm being ripped from his shoulder echoed through the entire factory. It was a terrible shredding. I watched as in one moment the man’s arm was on his body, and the next it wasn’t.

The worker threw his head back and howled before he lost consciousness and slumped to the floor. In the very next moment, I heard the sirens of the ambulance.

“Ah, the risks…” the gray man said, stepping away from the spreading pool of blood. “Unfortunate, really.”

The paramedics rushed in and the man told them that the machine had gone haywire and torn the arm right off the man’s body.

“Please, help him as quickly as you can,” he said, “I’d never want to lose a man as ambitious as this.”

I don’t know how I got home. I don’t remember walking back, or going inside to Zoe’s apartment, or climbing onto the couch. I don’t remember even one bit of anything after the sirens faded away. I’d seen it, and now I was beginning to understand.

This was the power of fate.