Night Shift

It was Monday and the clickety-clack of computer keyboards being struck by hundreds of fingers was soothing in its monotony. Joe glanced at the dark sky through the window.

“Joe! Lunch! In?” Joe turned to see Mark standing at his cube. His trainer had developed the slight paunch of a man who sat for too many hours and didn’t get enough exercise. Joe smiled as he thought about lunch. Well, dinner really, but with the night shift, things were a little different.

“I wanted to catch up on some reports Julie wants.”  Joe grimaced. Julie, the section manager, was as appealing as an alley cat. Overweight, pale, and lacking personality, Julie was the bane of the night crew.

“Dude, how you gonna keep your strength when dealin’ with her?” Mark replied. “Get out of your chair. We’re doin’ Mexican.”

Joe laughed and nodded. “In!”


On Tuesday, Joe strolled over to Mark’s cube and found his colleague with his head in his hands. Concerned, Joe rapped his knuckles on the cube.

“Mark, are you okay? What’s up?” Joe asked quietly.  Mark looked up, his face pale and lined with tension.

“Julie’s reducing staff. She says the economy is weak and we need to ‘tighten our belts.’ I’ve been here fifteen years! I’m 57 years old. Who will hire me? Bitch.”

“You’re the backbone of this department! You train all the new people. She’s been here a year—what does she know?” Joe was shocked at this news. Mark showed him the ropes and became a friend in the process.

“Yeah, all the people on her list are over 50 and have been here much longer than her. That’s no coincidence. Listen, I’m not really up for lunch today, okay?”

Mark thought for a long moment. He nodded slowly.

“Okay buddy, I hear you. I’m going out for a quick snack. I’ll check in later.”

Later, Joe strolled over to Mark’s desk and found several colleagues gathered around it. They were whispering excitedly.

“Hey! What’s going on?” Joe called out.

Mark stood up and looked at Joe. “You missed it! Guess what happened while you were out!” Mark glanced around at the people gathered. “Julie got herself killed!”

Joe stopped walking toward the cube. His eyes widened and he looked toward her office, noticing the uniformed officers at the doorway.

“No shit!”

“No shit. And the really strange thing is they don’t know how she died! She’s got some kind of cut on her neck, and that’s it. Totally strange.” Mark sounded excited.

Just then, a detective walked toward them. “Please return to your desks, and don’t discuss this situation with each other until after we interview you. Don’t contact anyone. We appreciate your patience.” She spoke softly but firmly, and clearly she was in charge. Joe nodded at Mark and turned toward his desk. No one saw him grin and lick the last of Julie’s blood off his canines. He’d done a favor for his friend and had his snack, too.