Prompt Fic--Satan's Followers Title - Satan's Followers Authors - ivylady Rating - PG Word Count - 700 Warnings - none
Summary - A boss and his workers thoughts as he walks to his office. Author's Notes - Written off a prompt from faynia. The prompt: "Well, if you could accuse someone of being downright evil, it would be him."
The man swooped down the aisles of the office complex, sending terror into the hearts of all who saw him. The workers he passed averted their eyes and hung their heads, unwilling to risk meeting his eyes. He was notorious for calling out someone who he thought was challenging him. He would ask the person a series of increasingly difficult questions, and if they didn’t answer to his satisfaction, he would fire them.
His employees were terrified of him, and he liked it that way. He wanted them to doubt the security of their job, to always think that they could be fired if they didn’t perform up to expectation. He paid a high wage so he demanded efficiency and productivity. There was no room for slackers in his company unless they were willing to mop floors, and even the janitors had to meet his exacting standards or they were fired.
‘A man should take pride in his job, no matter what,’ he thought, and he required the same amount of dedication out of his analysts that he did out of his window washers. In his view, a job was more than a vocation—it was a way of life. The way you conducted yourself in your professional life reflected upon your personal life as well.
He knew what they said about him, and he didn’t care. He’d worked his way up—starting out a small company with nothing but the brains in his head and $50 to his name. In the forty-five years that his company had been in business, he’d managed to turn his hard work and perseverance into a multi-billion dollar international conglomerate that dominated the market.
The whispers and murmurs that followed him as he made his way through the floor to his office were of no concern.
“Well, if you could accuse someone of being downright evil,” one of his mindless drones muttered, “it would be him.”
“Why?” asked another vapid number cruncher.
“He takes vicious pleasure in humiliating us. It’s like, he’s Satan or something. Don’t let him catch you looking at him. He’ll berate you in front of the whole office, ask insanely hard questions that you can't answer, and fire you,” the first voice said.
“Really? I thought he seemed nice enough when I met him in the elevator,” the second voice replied.
“It’s all just an act. He’s the devil in disguise. He gets off on terrorizing us, and if you’re smart, you’ll stay out of his way.”
The conversation continued, but the man was too far away to hear it. He smirked maliciously at the thought of bringing those two workers into his office to discuss their productivity. A little scare ought to do wonders for the gossipmongers.
Finally, after walking the length of the floor, the man reached his office. He opened the door to the well-furnished room. He would have nothing but the best for his office. It was his hard work and ingenuity that got him where he was in life. In his younger years, he scrimped and saved every penny, always wondering when the bottom would fall out. Now that he was comfortable (if one counted a net worth of eighteen billion dollars as comfortable instead of exceedingly rich), he splurged on little things for himself—a nice, hand-carved cherry wood desk, a soft Italian leather chair, exquisite wood flooring covered in handmade Oriental rugs. He worked harder than anyone else did, so he made sure he was the most comfortable.
As he sat down at his desk and looked over his work for the day, he smiled. An honest smile that lit up his entire face and would have shocked his workers. He had made it; after years of struggling to get his company off the ground, he had finally made a lasting impression on the business world. His employees might think he was evil and hate his strict rules, but it didn’t matter to him. All that counted was his personal happiness. That he derived pleasure out of scaring uppity know it all was a bonus, of course.