Scene One

Throughout the cavernous hall, a booming of thunder and the pattering of rain reverberated, becoming even more impressive. The greys of a dreary city covered in rain clouds became visible through the wide, eclipsing windows of the hall, but failed to suppress the flood of vibrant costumed figures inside. Among the crowd, hues of every color imaginable oozed forward like molasses. People dressed as fictional characters huddled together and chattered raucously, their voices echoing and meshing together like garbage noise. 

This was comic-con. 

A slender girl snaked through the crowd, moving with urgency. Her costume covered her from head-to-toe: a black tear-shaped outline around her eyes, a white, hooded mask, a mass of black plunging just below her pronounced cleavage - visible through the skintight fabric - and a pattern of spiderwebs outlining the ensemble. 

On the lower part of the costume, covering the crotch, a small piece of black duct tape had been placed, a sliver of pink flesh still left uncovered, but inconspicuous. 

Scene Two 

The living room hummed to the tempo of a grandfather clock. Nearly everything in the room was tidy and deliberate, from the labeled filing cabinets along the wall to the dustless tabletops and mantle. 

Julian groaned. He reclined in his office chair, his eyes half-closed, as he watched the masked figure with his cock in her mouth. She couldn’t quite deepthroat him, but it aroused him to watch her try, as she gagged, then immediately slid off of him and spat for even more lubrication. 

He loved the anonymity of it - not being able to see her eyes, only her wet lips, the white mask, and the black outlines around her eyes. 

A hand crept up to his shoulder and touched him. His heart raced and he fumbled to zip up his pants. 

“Honey?” Steph’s voice called from behind him, angrily. “I thought you said you were going to cut back.” 

He sighed. Reality came back to him gradually: first, the mess of Taco Bell wrappers littered over his desk, and from his computer, the cosplay porn he had been masturbating to. 

“I don’t even know what to do anymore,” Steph said. “Do you want this kid or not?” 

Julian collected himself, looking away from where he had imagined the girl toward his wife. 

“I’m really sorry. It’s just- kinda hard, you know?” 

“It’s been a month.” Steph looked from the computer monitor to the garbage accumulating around Julian’s desk. She took a firmer tone. “Look, I know you need to grieve. I get that. And I know this seems terrible, but we’re barely making the rent.”

Noting his usual slumped posture and mile-long stare, she added, “We sacrificed a lot to get this house. You need to try to pull yourself together. Can you do that for me? Please?”

Julian nodded. 

“Okay,” Steph replied. Her eyes shifted to the computer screen. “And if we’re going to keep trying on the kids front, I ovulate when you get back. So could you please cut back? For me?”

Julian closed the Internet browser, then smiled at his wife halfheartedly. 

“Have you heard from Gwen yet?” he asked. 

“No…” She looked as if she wanted to say something more, but lost her motivation. 

“I’m sure she’ll come around. She can’t stay mad forever.” 

“I hope...” 

She seemed bleakly unconvinced. 

Scene three 

The dim lighting and scuffed, grimy tiles in the office gave the impression of a den. From behind the crude metal desk, Walt reeled through files. But the sound of the paper flipping in his trembling hands was nothing compared to the primal noises erupting from the room next door. 

Taking his hand to his forehead and rubbing, teeth bared, Walt grumbled to himself. In the cacophony, there were four voices: the scream of a woman who didn’t care who heard her, the commanding voice of another woman, and a more restrained voice, occasionally moaning. 

But louder than any of them was a thundering, male voice. 

“Is that the best you can fucking do?! If you want your money, you’ll make it fit!”

The walls shook, and Walt stopped filing for a moment, as expletives filled the room. They came in four voices, rhythmic and sometimes quivering. 

“Orgies every week… I fucking swear…” Walt said under his breath. “Said he’d get serious about this… does ‘serious’ mean ‘work all day and night while I fuck the hires and promotions’?” 

The noise stopped for a moment. Walt raised his head and stared at the door to the office. It resembled the door to a bank vault more than what one might find in an office.

“Can you keep going?” His boss expressed the vaguest indication of concern through the wall. 

“No… is that okay?” It was the girl who had been screaming earlier.

“If you’re done, then get the fuck off. I don’t think Mrs. Green has had a chance.” 

“Oh, no… I couldn’t,” came another voice. “I’m still so sore from last time…” 

“Get on up here, Mrs. Green.” There was a very subtle air of menace in his voice. “If you honor your half of the deal, I’ll honor mine.”

“Well…” she trailed off. “All right.” 

After about a minute more of silence, the coffee in Walt’s mug began to shake slightly, as a very loud, pained cry penetrated the walls. 

Walt balled his fists. He looked up at the clock on the wall - not operational - before pulling out his cell phone and glancing at it. 

The yelling became very loud moans. Walt stood up, but didn’t move for several dozen seconds, before moving over to the door and forcing it open. 

He looked unsurprised, as he looked out at the vast, candlelit room before him. Across the space, on an ornate, tacky throne sat a gargantuan man, almost beyond the realm of possibility. Disproportionately smaller than him, a faux blonde, lanky woman, somewhere in her twenties, lowered and raised herself on top of him. Incredibly, the penis - the size of some sort of gag dildo, and as wide as the man’s massive arms - fit inside her without any medical issues. 

None of them acknowledged Walt’s entrance. 

“Come on, Mrs. Green,” said the man. “You’ve only got the head in. You can do better than that.” 

“Fuck!” She screamed. “Just- call me Cindy, okay?” 

“Until your husband gives me what he owes, I’ll call you what I want,” he said laboriously, through steady protracted hip movements. 

On either side of him, at his hips, the two women fondled and put their mouths on his inhumanly large testicles: on his left, a brunette with a very visible tramp stamp, who looked and moved like a zombie, and on his right, a young blonde who seemed suspiciously young, with the energy of a volleyball player. She was the more vocal of the two, often interjecting things ripped from a bad porno, (recited unconvincingly) like “take it, baby!” and “you show that cock who’s boss!” 

After several minutes standing in the door frame, Walt coughed. The brunette looked back at him as if to say “thank you.” 

The man grabbed Cindy Green by the hips and lifted her up slightly as if to say, “time to stop.” As she moved off of him, the man grabbed a bathrobe, placed on the back of his throne. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Walt said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” The acoustics of the room allowed his voice to carry. 

The man sighed, “It’s fine. I was about done anyway.” He looked at the three women. “We need to talk business. Why don’t you scurry off to your boyfriends?” 

The three women looked eager to leave the room, darting out the door without any comment. When they were out of earshot, the man addressed Walt. 

“What the fuck did I tell you about interrupting me?” 

Walt fidgeted, then took a deep breath. He choked on his words. “I’m sorry, sir. I just figured you’d want an update - on the security system you wanted installed.”

With his hands behind his back, the man sauntered over the pristine tile to a door on the other side of the room. Walt followed him with wobbly legs. 

The man pulled the door open with little effort, despite it looking very heavy - another massive vault-style door. It opened to a wide, empty room with just a long table and chairs and large open windows. He moved over to the windows which took up the full opposite wall. Walt stared down at his feet while the man gazed down at the pavement dozens of stories below. 

“Do you know what I learned from my time inside, Mr. Stevens?”

Walt shook alert. “No, sir.” 

“The time we have out here is valuable. It’s not just because you’re alive, but because you have freedom. Every moment is an opportunity.” 

He paused. “If I wanted to, Walt, I could throw you out this window. Or if I didn’t want to get caught, I could take the carving knife from the drawer over there and poke you a little.” 

Walt’s voice squeaked a little bit. “I know, sir.” 

The man started chuckling to himself. “I’m kidding, Mr. Stevens.” Walt shifted the front of his jeans uncomfortably. “You need to loosen up a bit.” 

“Okay, sir.” 

“I hired you for a reason. If I just killed you now, all I’d do is lose myself money.” 

He looked down at Walt’s face. Walt avoided his gaze. 

“But I’d like to hear you say more than two words. What were you coming to tell me?” 

“Right.” Walt took a deep breath. “Well, first of all, you’re doing a wonderful job.” 

The man had a disgusted look on his face. “Don’t suck up to me.” 

“Okay. But… uh… when you got out, you said you were going to get serious about all this-” 

“And I’ve just been fucking the interns instead?” 

“Yeah…” 

The man stroked his chin and looked back out over the horizon. 

“Thank you, Walt.” As the man stared out at the sunset, Walt looked up at him in confusion. “I’m doing my best. But there are times I lose sight of things.” 

Since Walt either had nothing to say, or didn’t know what to say, he kept talking, the whirring of a helicopter audible over the quiet. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know. You’ve earned your place here.” He looked down at Walt. “And stop calling me ‘sir’. I have a name.” 

“Sorry, Mr. King.” 

“How about ‘sorry, Marvin’. Or better yet, just don’t apologize at all,” Marvin said.

Walt said nothing. 

The sun was slowly starting to set, the last rays of sunlight bouncing off of the skyscrapers and into the room. 

“There are things worse than me in this city. Things nobody’s doing anything about. We’ve both seen them.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Marvin cringed, but kept talking anyway. “It’s irresponsible of me to treat my time as a luxury when there are things I should be stopping. I’m just… not really sure how to dirty my hands while keeping a clean reputation. You had something else to tell me though?” 

“No…” Walt said, furrowing his brows. “I don’t… I don’t think so?”

“You’ve been in that office twelve hours. That can’t be all.” 

An epiphany dawned on Walt. “Oh! Uh… that security system you wanted implemented? The custom one?” 

“Very important.” 

“Right. Uh… the guy we assigned on it, well. He’s been out of work for awhile.” 

The mood in the room suddenly shifted.

Marvin took in a sharp breath through his nose, then pressed his lips together. He spoke through gritted teeth. “And we ALLOWED this?” 

“His boss did, yes. We don’t have much of a say.” 

“Walt- no. There’s NOTHING in this city we can’t control.” Marvin threw his hands out in frustration, gesturing widely. “So when I want something done and it doesn’t get done, you understand why I might blame you?!” 

“I’m sorry, Marvin… I just… why is it so important? We’ll hire another prog-” 

“We can’t do *anything* here if we don’t have the proper precautions! Do you even remember what happened last time?! God!” Marvin punched the window, shattering it and sending glass below. As he looked down at the people panicking below, his furious expression gradually transformed, becoming calmer. 

“We need shatterproof windows here. Have them installed immediately.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And make sure our programmer gets back on the job. I don’t care how you do it. Just get it done."