Chapter two

Published: Apr 3, 2026 by

Harry Rubhock reversed his car carefully into his parking space. It was at the opposite end of the car park to the office entrance but he wanted to keep his precious car away from the riff raff. He parked like he always did, deliberately in the centre of two parking spaces so there was plenty of space either side to prevent the risk of his car being scratched by car doors opening or people passing by carrying their coats and bags.

He had spent the weekend detailing the car, inside and out. The chrome trim was glistening and the deep red metallic paint was sparkling in the sunshine. The interior leather trim was as fresh as the day he bought it, aided by the regular leather conditioning treatment he applied. The walnut inlay in the dashboard was highly polished and the radio display was free from fingerprints due to his fastidious use of driving gloves.

He slid the cover over on the sun visor to reveal the mirror. He checked his hair, ensuring that the powerful air conditioning hadn’t moved a single strand of his carefully gelled hair out of place. After a minute and checking several different angles, he was satisfied.

Harry carefully slid the driving gloves off his hand, methodically pulling one finger of the leather glove at a time with the other hand to loosen them, before removing them completely. He placed the gloves neatly in the glove box, shutting it with a satisfying click, then picked up the steering wheel lock and fastened it to the steering wheel. It was old technology, but nevertheless, a good deterrent to thieves, he thought to himself, nodding. After all, who wouldn’t want to steal such a fabulous car?

He opened the car door and stepped out, but before he shut the door he retrieved a microfibre cloth from the inside jacket pocket of his carefully pressed black suit and wiped off the fingerprint from the interior chrome handle, pushing the door shut carefully using the cloth to avoid creating any marks on the pristine exterior. He shook any excess fibres from the cloth before folding it up into a neat square and putting it back into his jacket pocket. He then pressed the button on the keyfob to lock the car. The indicators flashed once and the locks clicked shut.

He started walking away from the car towards his office, but stopped after twenty steps, turning around to admire his car from a distance once more in the early morning sunshine. What a fantastic car, he thought to himself, a smug smile appearing on his face, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. He stayed there for a good thirty seconds before turning and heading to work, the urge to keep looking at the car overwhelming his unconscious mind to get started with his work, he involuntarily glanced over his shoulder checking the car was safe for a final time. Harry reassured himself that he could look out of his large corner office window and inspect his vehicle from there.

He made his way towards the tall steel framed and glass building and entered through the revolving door and into the reception hall.

“Good morning Mr Rubhock.” The receptionist spoke politely as she smiled at him from behind the frontdesk. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge her presence as he walked up to the security gate. It opened a few seconds before he got to it so he didn’t have to alter his stride.

On the receptionist’s first day at the job no one had the chance to warn her about Mr Rubhock. Everyone else swiped their cards to get through the gate like a normal human being would, but not him, for he was special. Everyone should know who he was. That day, Mr Rubhock had walked up to the gate, expecting it to open for him automatically, except it didn’t and he walked straight into it, banging his shin on the glass of the gate.

The tirade that Mr Rubhock gave the receptionist that day had stuck with her ever since. She always ensured the gate was open for him from that point on.

Passing through the open gate, he walked into the waiting elevator at the end of the hall. An old man wearing a smart grey suit was standing by the buttons. He pressed the button for floor 12, the elevator doors shutting, before saying “Good morning Mr Rubhock.”.

Mr Rubhock ignored the old man just as he had ignored the receptionist. The elevator started climbing up the building, past floor after floor of office workers in smart suits and expensive office dresses. Mr Rubhock didn’t know any of the names of the people who worked for him. He didn’t care what their names were.

The old man coughed to clear his throat, but stayed facing forward, looking at the elevator buttons just as he had done every day since he started his role at the company. “I just want to say what an honour it has been working for you Mr Rubhock for all these years. It’s my last day today, so I just wanted to inform you that Jimmy will be taking over the elevator duties from tomorrow morning.”

The old man was waiting for a response from Mr Rubhock, but no response came. He hadn’t expected anything, but he silently hoped for a few words of encouragement for his retirement after his years of service, or some kind of gesture like a handshake or a pat on the shoulder.

Harry Rubhock read the old man’s name tag in the reflection of the shiny elevator doors. The only reason he wanted to know the name was so he could fire the old man for speaking to him out of order. He would let the old man contemplate his actions during his retirement whilst seeing his final pension drop from being fired rather than retiring as planned.

The elevator stopped on floor 12 and made a ping noise as the doors opened. Mr Rubhock walked out without looking back, leaving the old man waiting inside the elevator.

He walked into the lobby where there were two desks, one on the left and one on the right, with a pair of double doors directly in front of him. Each desk had a personal assistant sitting behind it. They looked at each other, before both saying “Good morning Mr Rubhock” in perfect synchronisation. They both pressed a button under their desks that triggered the double doors to synchronously open before him.

Mr Rubhock walked through the double doors and into his large office. The receptionists waited for him to cross the threshold before releasing the buttons, the doors shutting behind him.

He took in the glorious sight in front of him. There was a large wooden desk with an old fashioned corded telephone and an in tray with a small, neat, stack of files in. The desk had two drawers, one on each side. Behind the desk was an imposing high back, black leather chair. Behind the desk and chair were floor to ceiling glass windows.

He walked behind the desk and looked out the window, down to the car park below, admiring his shiny metallic red car that glistened in the sunshine. Everything was right with his world and no one was going to change that.

A bright red flash appeared in the beautiful blue sky, immediately catching his attention. He raised his eyebrow in curiosity at the fast moving beam of light as it grew brighter and brighter. Before he knew what had happened, the red flash hit the ground below his office window. One moment his car was where he had left it, the next it was gone.

The light faded away in an instant after the impact, the red glow replaced by a rush of grey concrete dust rushing up against the tall glass windows of his office. Moments later came the sound of the explosion, the deep bass notes rattling the glass within their sturdy frames, causing hairline cracks to appear around the edges of the toughened glass panes as they vibrated.

Mr Rubhock instinctively shrank down below the wide wooden desk for cover and shut his eyes, waiting for the sound to fade away. Eventually everything went quiet. He peeped open his right eye, but the room was blanketed in darkness. The electric lights overhead had turned off and no light was passing through the windows due to the clouds of dust outside. Closing his right eye once more, he sat there cowering, starting to sob. His bravado and confidence had failed him.