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A slightly longer short horror story I wrote, cut into two.
Word count: 1947
Tick tock
The soft ticking of a clock echoed through a grey room.
Tick tock
Together with the rhythmic sound of the ticking clock you can hear the ticking of many fingers on many keyboards.
Tick tick tock
The tapping on the keyboards is much more out of tune compared to the ticking of the clock.
Grey tables are placed in long, neatly arranged lines from one side of the room to the other, on all of those tables sit people dressed in grey uniforms. The grey floor matches the rest.
All of this is colored in a slight blue light, caused by the many blue screens behind which these people are working.
For now, the hard working people ignore the clock, their work is more important.
Their income is more important.
Time is money.
Life is money.
All of these people had been carefully selected for working at a rather prestigious company, one that only allows a select few to enter their offices.
They have these selections for even the lowest of the ranks, such as these.
There doesn't exist a company more important than this one.
For this company controls life itself.
Life and death have been enslaved by this company.
In a city of steam and ash, this place is known as the best place to work at.
Complicated machinery is just in the other room, people can bring their loved ones back from the dead with a pricetag.
Still to leave them deceased is now being seen as immoral, because why would you let your loved ones die? No matter how much the person wanted to take the forever rest, the people that would allow it could lose their status and jobs. Sometimes they could even go to prison for cold blooded murder.
At one desk sits a woman, her name is Clara, dressed in the same uniform as the rest, typing away diligently at the computer. She types it all at an incredible speed.
Even though she is so amazing at her work, promotions are hard to come by, still she's happy with her job.
This job makes it so that she and her husband can live the life they want to, unfortunately his job has a much lower status than hers, but she loves him nonetheless. He always returns her love with the same amount, always wishing he could do more for them.
The husband, his name is Drew, makes a living as a car-repairman, machinery like that is his forte, his calling.
A small one bedroom apartment with a living room that's also the kitchen. They also have a small bathroom with only the bare necessities.
Living costs are rather high for them, causing them to almost have to live hand-to-mouth.
It has only been recently that Clara had started working at the company and their lives have already changed for the better. Food was something they could afford almost every day now, no need for living days on old bread crusts anymore. If they were to save up a bit, they might even be able to afford a bottle of wine.
Back at work Clara worked hard whilst thinking of when she could go back to the love of her life.
With their future only just beginning, they could start making plans on what to do next with their lives.
Perhaps save up money for a trip or to eat something nice one day.
A loud bell goes off and the people behind the computers start finishing up the last bits of their work, readying themselves to return to their homes.
Some chat with others for a bit before leaving, others leave quietly and speedily.
Clara says goodbye to her co-workers and takes her leave.
Through the dark streets she wanders, through the thick mist that is the smog, passing by the street lanterns that just barely show the heads of the people walking by.
Cars travel by, old-timey and repaired again and again, that it is the question if they really were the same cars as they started out as. Perhaps even the oldest parts have all been changed up.
Finally Clara makes it home, taking off her shoes before entering and embraces her beloved as he comes to greet her.
He calls to her, speaks her name, his voice tired from work, but still full of love, he had already made dinner for the two of them.
Over dinner they talk about how their day was, the work they did and their dreams for the future.
Then they rest on the small old couch by the tv.
The object looked as if it has seen better days and has been adjusted many times. Different colored plates can be seen bolted all over it. There are even some bolts that seem to have been placed at random and without purpose.
On the tv an advertisement plays, it shows the company for which Clara works causing the two to joke around about it.
Drew calls Clara 'Frankenstein's assistant' and Clara pokes fun at him for being the one to bring dead cars back to live.
The ad shows a famous person who had been brought back to life and was thanking the company that they were able to return back to working again so soon after the revival.
The teasing continues, until the pair is too tired to continue.
The next day was another day of hard work for the two, weekends aren't very common here, only certain people are entitled to it.
Like usual Clara took the smog filled streets to the giant building that was her workplace, her 'second home' the bosses would joke about.
Clara followed the crowd towards the grey room with all the desks.
Like always she sat down on her desk and started typing away.
A couple of hours later a small man wearing fancy clothes with golden buttons entered the room, he is one of the higher-ups.
He called for Clara and she turned to look at him.
What could it be, she wondered.
Is it something good? Or something bad?
Most likely it was something bad.
She could feel the anxiety in her stomach every step she got closer to the man.
The man looked at her in pity.
"Please come this way." He told her and thus she followed him.
They walked up many stairs to eventually reach the top of the building.
The top floor was much different than the basement, the building was so high, you could see above the smog of the old city and see the horizon.
Many objects were coated in gold and the people here were dressed the fanciest Clara had ever seen.
Clara and the man entered a room and she was seated at the end of a large table.
The old man in charge sat at the other end.
"Clara, I've got bad news for you." He said his voice sounded hoarse from age.
Clara's heart sank.
"Your husband, Drew, passed away."
For a moment Clara didn't know what to feel or say, but then a wave of intense sadness overcame her.
The tears came and she wasn't able to stop them.
"My condolences." The old man added, but Clara almost didn't hear it due to the screaming of her heart.
Then a desperate idea entered her mind, she turned to her boss, looked him straight in the eye and asked: "Can you please bring him back to life?"
The old man smiled: "Please Clara, you know it is much more than you can possibly pay with your salary."
"Please, I will do anything, I will work more overtime, I will, I will..." Desperation got a strong hold of her and stopped her mouth from creating words.
"I'm sorry Clara, but I will have to think about that. Please return to your work."
The small man came to send Clara back to the basement of the building and shakingly she went with him.
She couldn't stop her tears, she couldn't stop herself from desperately trying to find an answer.
Back in the grey room she sat behind her computer again, only to be unable to continue her work anymore.
She had to see her beloved, she just had to see him, dead or alive. It just didn't matter.
Finally at long last, the bell rang and Clara rushed home.
Through the smog filled streets she ran, bumping into people without apologizing, tears running down her cheeks.
When she finally arrived home she was completely out of breath, but continued on nonetheless.
But he wasn't there, the only thing the apartment was filled with, was old memories.
Old memories that would never repeat.
Old dreams that would never come into fruition.
It didn't even feel like home anymore for Clara.
There was however a letter on the floor.
It was a letter about Drew's death, it had been sent by his boss.
In the letter he asked if she could come to the small workshop and talk about what had happened.
Without locking the door, she rushed outside again, running to the place he had last been alive.
At the old workshop she found the boss who seemed to be grieving as well, he too just lost someone important to him, yes an employee, but also a friend.
They talked between tears about Drew and what they would do now.
Eventually they came to the conclusion that maybe, if they both went, they could get him back.
So together they went back to the company at which Clara worked and tried to get the boss to understand, both promising everything if it should be so.
But again the boss refused, because even together they wouldn't be able to pay the price for bringing someone back.
A couple of days went by and Clara started having more trouble with work.
The small man with the golden buttons came by her desk and asked for her attention: "We have seen how much you're struggling with the loss of your beloved, we think it would be better if you take things a bit slower." A sinister smile crossed his face, making Clara shiver.
She knew what this meant very well, she would either get fired or get demoted to the lowest part of the company.
Corruption, she thought, the company has been corrupted to the core, well perhaps it has simply always been this way.
Money this, money that.
Life seems to only be able to be saved with enough money.
Still Clara obeyed and followed the man downstairs.
They entered a room that looked just like the one she had been working in before.
It was like an exact copy, but something about it felt... amiss.
Though she could not guess what it was that made her feel that way.
The man showed her to her new desk and left.
Despairing every possible mistake she could make, she carefully typed the day away.
During it, she noticed that some of the people around her were in a much worse shape than her, some coughing, some's clothes looked more like wet rags.
But to them it didn't seem to matter, they kept doing their job, without missing a key.
At the end, the bell rang and unlike in the other room, no one said goodbye to one another. Almost like they were ignoring each other.
Far behind Clara followed them out of the room.
As they entered a dark hallway Clara lost the group.
In the dark she searched, until she finally found a door.
Believing it to be the right one, she opened it.
Artificial red colored light entered the dark hallway.
She peeked through the opening.
It took a moment for her to register what was going on.
She saw the machine.
The machine with the power to bring the dead back to life.
The machine that saved so many.
It was a really strange one, different from what was being advertised on tv.
It was one for multiple people at once.
And around the machine's fumes, were people.
Working people, even though working hours were long over.
They worked in rags, rags worse than she had ever seen before.
The people worked and worked, some clearly in pain.
Then she suddenly recognized some of the people.
Those people were ones that died, but who's loved ones couldn't pay for them to be revived again...
[TO BE CONTINUED]