Portal - 100 Themes - Cruel

100 Theme challenge #14 - Cruel



"You leavin' for the night, Caroline?"

"Just straightening up some files, sir."  

She stood at the doorway of Cave Johnson's office, clutching in her perfectly-manicured hands the files of the ten most recent test subjects.  Bright red stamps on the sides of the beige folders read "Terminated."  It didn't mean they'd been fired.

"Sir, I'm a little concerned about this recent battery of tests.  I'm not sure a moat of acid is really the proper setting for the portal gun's demonstration."

"Well, what do you suggest?" the old man grunted, not bothering to turn and face her.  He kept his eyes glued to his computer, scrolling through pages of yellow-orange pixels.

She scowled at his tone.  Instantly shifting her mood, she smiled, sounding bright and cheery again.  "Well, I was thinking, we've been testing the gun for several decades now.  It seems the gun itself is completely stable and, if you don't mind my saying, sir, a huge success.  Don't you think it's time to patent this thing before Black Mesa comes up with the same technology?"

"Nawp," Johnson drawled, revealing a hint of Midwestern upbringing.  "Testin's gotta continue.  Still a couple bugs in the programming, s'far as I'm concerned."

Caroline's grip tightened on the folders.  "But those glitches are with the protocol AI designed to monitor the tests.  That has nothing to do with the tests themselves or even the portal device.  Sir."

Johnson gave an exasperated sigh, drumming his fingers impatiently on the desk.  "Caroline, when I want your opinion on somethin', I'll ask you for it.  Now, last I remember, you were hired to be my secretary, not a scientist."

A light pop sounded through the room as one of Caroline's artificial nails snapped off.  Her intense grip was tearing through the file folder.  She kept her voice sweet as candy, though her face was twisted sour.  "Yes, sir, Mr. Johnson."

She stormed back into her office, shoving the files into her desk.  She would deal with those dead idiots later.  For now, she had to get out of this office.

"'When I want your opinion, I'll ask for it'," she mocked bitterly.  "That idiot wouldn't know an idea if it stabbed him in the face.  I'm the one who keeps this pathetic excuse for a company running.  I covered up the astronaut's disappearance.  I wrote your stupid apology speech at the press conference, you disgusting sack of flesh."

She grabbed her coat from the rack, her narrow arms and graceful hands nearly tearing at it from the inside as she put it on.  "I manage the budget.  I research the prospective hires.  I interview all the test subjects.  Who formulates data?  Me.  Who heads the committee for test design?  Me.  I have a God-damn doctorate in physics.  But no.  I have to be your secretary.  I swear, I will not allow your stupidity to drive my hard work into the ground!"

Slapping on a floppy winter hat, she reached for her gloves and scarf.  "I can't wait until you die, old man.  Then I'll run this company, and you can bet your broke, sorry ass we will not be second to Black Mesa any longer."

A barrage of pained coughs came from Cave's office.  Her frown deepened as she glared at his door.  How much would it take for him to keel over and snuff it?  He already had one foot in the grave as it was.

She paused, looking at the blue crocheted scarf in her hands.  Perhaps the other foot just needed a little nudge.

"Caroline?" he called out between coughs.  "You still here?"

Her brows knit as she began wrapping one end of the scarf around her left hand.  Brightly, still keeping the facade, she called back, "Did you need something, Mr. Johnson?"

Another flurry of violent coughs.  She wrapped the other end of the scarf around her right hand and pulled it taut.

"Can you -cough- bring me my pain pills?"

"Coming, Mr. Johnson."

She would not allow this idiot to ruin her company.