#11
After my last contract, I requested something simpler.
No guns.
No biological outbreaks.
No hallucinations.
So my new employer responded by dropping me, apparently a child, into a forest and providing absolutely no job description whatsoever.
Fine.
I've worked with worse onboarding.
My responsibilities initially consisted primarily of running to the right.
Occasionally I ran to the left.
I had no idea why I was there, but the facility clearly didn't want me there. Armed guards, attack dogs and an alarming number of human test subjects suggested I'd stumbled across another organization whose ethics department had been dissolved for budgetary reasons.
I assumed I was on some sort of revenge mission.
Maybe my family had been taken.
Maybe I was sabotaging the facility.
Maybe I knew exactly what I was doing.
That last assumption became increasingly questionable.
The work itself, however, was excellent.
Every problem looked simple until I actually had to solve it. Nothing required a 400-page engineering manual; just observation, timing and occasionally running back and forth while reconsidering my life choices.
Then management introduced mind control.
Apparently certain employees could be remotely operated like machinery.
Naturally, I used this information to solve problems rather than immediately questioning the horrifying implications.
That came later.
The facility itself was deeply unsettling.
No music telling me when to be afraid.
No exposition.
Not a word spoken anywhere.
Just footsteps, machinery, distant noises and the uncomfortable feeling that everybody around me understood what was happening except me.
Strangely, my favorite department was underwater.
The movement, lighting and muffled sound made exploring the submerged areas unexpectedly beautiful.
Unfortunately, this company also had things in the water.
Of course it did.
Eventually, I reached the department responsible for making me seriously reconsider what I'd actually been hired to do.
Up until then, I'd assumed I was infiltrating the facility for reasons of my own.
By the time I clocked out, I wasn't entirely sure that assumption had ever been mine to begin with.
What followed was disturbing, absurd, unexpectedly funny, and unlike anything else I'd encountered during the assignment.
I will not be describing it.
Some workplace incidents really need to be experienced without reading the accident report first.
The official conclusion to my employment was probably my biggest disappointment. After such an extraordinary final shift, I expected slightly more closure.
Fortunately, my insistence on completing every optional performance objective led me somewhere considerably more interesting.
I'm not describing that either.
What I will say is that it completely changed how I interpreted everything I'd been doing up to that point.
Suddenly the company's fascination with control felt considerably more personal.
And strangely melancholic.
I finished with 100% of my performance objectives completed, considerably more questions than answers, and the uncomfortable realization that I might not even have understood my own position within the organizational chart.
Would I recommend the job?
Absolutely!
If you enjoy clever puzzles, beautiful animation, environmental storytelling and dark mysteries that trust you to draw your own conclusions, this is well worth accepting.
It's creepy without relying on constant terror, challenging without becoming frustrating, and remarkably good at communicating without saying anything at all.
Just don't expect answers.
This employer provides questions in bulk and explanations strictly on a need-to-know basis.
Personally, I've decided to accept the mystery and move on.
---
My next position is apparently at an isolated castle.
Better yet, it's a cooperative assignment.
I'll actually have a coworker this time!
And a walkie-talkie.
Given my employment history, I sincerely hope they've updated their emergency contact information.
