Every Office Machine Wants Me Dead

"You're late again, Claire."

"Third time this month."

Gideon sat in his oversized leather executive chair, idly twirling a silver fountain pen.

His voice wasn't loud, but the condescension in it felt like a dull blade, slowly sawing away at my nerves.

"Mr. Gideon, I was in the lobby by seven-thirty this morning."

I stood in front of his desk, my sweaty palms clenched into fists.

"It was the smart security gate."

"It malfunctioned again. It clamped down hard on my ID badge, and..."

"And what?"

Gideon raised a single brow, his eyes entirely devoid of warmth.

"And it trapped my arm."

I pulled up my blouse sleeve, exposing a ring of deep purple bruising around my forearm.

"It didn't feel like a metal mechanical arm at all. It was too soft, and it... it even had a body temperature."

"I swear it has it out for me. Every time I walk through, the scanner's hum sounds exactly like someone grinding their teeth."

"Enough."

Gideon cut me off coldly, tossing a performance review form onto his desk.

"Claire, we at Apex Core are a top-tier tech company."

"Your so-called 'warm' machine is a million-dollar piece of equipment coated in a bionic silicone exterior."

"Your own improper operation caused a scanning error, and now you're standing in my office blaming the hardware?"

"But why does it only ever jam when I go through?"

I raised my voice, the pent-up frustration finally boiling over.

"Maybe because you're useless enough to mess up basic data entry."

A sharp female voice pierced the room from the doorway.

Vesper walked in holding an iced Americano, her high heels emitting muffled thuds against the carpet.

She shot a glance at the bruising on my arm, the corner of her mouth curling into a mocking smirk.

"Gideon, there are three glaring logical errors in her data report."

"If this is what she calls 'effort,' I'd say even the security gate is sick of her."

Vesper slapped a stack of files onto the desk, not even bothering to look me in the eye.

"Vesper, that's because you abruptly changed the data model right before clocking out yesterday!"

I turned and glared dead at her.

"You knew damn well that was a two-person job."

"The workplace doesn't care about excuses, Claire."

Gideon stood up, leaning forward with his hands planted flat on the mahogany desk.

"We run a cutthroat team here. It's all about intrinsic drive and a results-oriented mindset."

"If you can't sync with the company's bandwidth, maybe you never belonged in that cubicle to begin with."

I bit my lip, my chest heaving.

I needed this job. I was still twenty grand short for my mother's surgery; I couldn't afford to lose this opportunity.

"I'll redo the report."

I lowered my voice, forcing the words out through gritted teeth.

"But I am requesting that maintenance inspects that security gate."

"There is absolutely something wrong with it. When it grabbed me this morning, I swear I heard a muffled gasp."

Gideon and Vesper exchanged a look.

In that split second, I could've sworn I saw a bizarrely unsettling understanding pass between them—not sympathy, but a mixture of mockery and a cold, twisted normalization of what I'd just said.

"Suit yourself."

Gideon dropped back into his chair, waving me off.

"But before you go crying to maintenance, I want today's report on my desk."

"If there's another error, consider your performance bonus for the week completely forfeited. Get out."

I turned and walked out of the office, the back of my shirt already slick with cold sweat.

Passing the pantry, I saw my coworker, Karen, using the so-called "fully automated molecular extraction" smart coffee maker.

She shot me a glance, her eyes as empty and dead as a stagnant pool of water, before silently taking her mug and walking away.

I sat down at my cubicle, staring at the dense clusters of data on my monitor. The suffocating feeling of being isolated—of having some invisible force tightening its grip around my throat—surged up once again.

Why me?

Why did it feel like every single thing inside this building was actively trying to torture me?