“Yes, sir, the report will be ready before noon, I- sir? What? But Mr. Edwin, that's Smith's responsibility, he's the one that- no, I... yes, sir. I'll... I'll get it done too...”
And with that, the line went dead, and Lance lowered the phone. Rubbing his temples and sighing exasperated, he got up from his desk and exited his cubicle. Walking past several of his coworkers in their own respective cubicles (who were all equally as tired and overburdened with tasks), past the two janitors, Barry and Dalton, hard at work cleaning the hallway, Lance made his way to the elevators. His shift had just started, and already he needed a smoke. Entering the elevator, he pushed the button for the 30th floor, making his way to the rooftops, the only place where he could get some peace of mind and ponder his tasks.
Tasks that never seemed to end...
Opening the door that lead outside, he fished for his packet of menthol cigars, noting how light it felt.
“Damnit, running low again.” He mumbled, popping a cigar on his mouth and, after lighting it, taking a slow drag, the nicotine filling his lungs.
Ahh, sweet nicotine. Lance leaned against the balcony, surveying the cityscape beyond, the busy streets below, the tiny people going about their daily lives.
“Just another day in the big city.” The man exhaled, a wisp of smoke escaping his mouth. He lazily watched it dissipate in the gentle breeze before taking another drag. He checked his phone's watch, just another five minutes before someone takes notice of his absence. Turning towards the door, Lance then noticed something odd: a green cloud moving towards him. Did someone pop a flare or something? He mused, but the closer it got, the stranger it seemed. Plus, it was moving against the wind. A gut feeling told him to get back inside and away from the thing, but before he could act, there was a loud crack, and Lance found himself being struck in the chest by a green lightning bolt.
He fell to the floor, the wind knocked out of him, and he swore between gasps. What the hell was that? Stranger still, despite being struck like that, he felt no pain, just a tingle spreading through his body. Shakily, he propped himself back up, glancing at the aggressive cloud.
It was gone.
“Wh-what the fuck?” he muttered, looking around frantically for the thing, his fear rising when he realized it was truly gone. Wasting no time, he stumbled towards the door, closing it with a slam and trying urgently to regain his composure.
“Must be seein' things...“ he muttered, adjusting his shirt and wiping the dust off his trousers. “Ye-yeah, that must be it, I'm too fucking overworked, it's getting to me.”
Lance exhaled, straightened himself up, and made his way back to the cubicle, completely unaware of the faint green glow emanating from his eyes...