A week later Avery was sitting in his own office when there was a knock at the door. It was smaller than Ashley's to avoid questions, though very tastefully adorned, including his newest sound machine. It was designed to be much more intense and would quickly drop others into a more docile state, but the rapid use meant sacrificing the subliminal training. It would be useful in a pinch with clients who hadn't been exposed yet, or in today's case, a stern co-worker.
"Come in," he called.
Chelsea reluctantly walked into his office, blonde hair perfectly curled, her blouse and black pencil skirt clinging to her slim, athletic frame. She had light green eyes and, under normal circumstances, had a radiant smile that made them sparkle, but her lips were currently pursed in a from as she took a seat across from Avery, crossing her perfectly sculpted legs.
"You wanted to see me?" she asked enthusiastically.
Chelsea had gotten along fine with Avery up until last week. She felt she deserved the promotion to assistant branch manager, (after the sudden decision by Tim, the former assistant manager, to leave to pursue his dream of climbing Everest), much more than him. To her credit she did have better retention numbers, but with the help of the sound machines Avery quickly began outpacing her in just a few short days before the job became his. The rest of the office was slowly molding the way he wanted, however it appeared Chelsea's anger and resentment had caused her to stop using his machines out of spite. It was time to bring her back into the fold.
"Yes, I just wanted us to clear the air," Avery said, standing up and going over to his larger machine, "I don't think anyone else needs to here this," he said as he turned it on. The sound aspect was irrelevant, as Avery had all office machines commanding the women to ignore the sounds coming from his office, (those sounds had mostly been the sounds of Ashley's screams of ecstasy as her brains were literally getting fucked out daily), and the machine went to work. Even in the time it took Avery to cross the room and sit back down he noticed Chelsea's jaw had already unclenched and she let out a long sigh.
"I understand you feel you deserve the job I have now and I think we should talk about that," he said as he began playing with a silver orb on his desk. It was a fidget ornament designed to spin and he had carved his own grooved, trailing spiral pattern into it.
"What's to talk about?" Chelsea asked, crossing her arms, "I deserved the job that you were handed and Ashley won't even tell me why, are you going to make that clear, SIR?" she asked sarcastically. She tried to glare at him, but her eyes kept shooting back down to the spinning orb.
"I'm not going to make anything clear," Avery said, "you've been here for years and you're a great employee, but you aren't ready for this level of responsibility, and that's that."
"And how do you know what I'm ready for? How do you know I'm not more than capable, more capable than you?" she asked, still looking at the orb.
There was fire in her voice, though her arms had already fallen back to her sides as her body grew weary from the effects of the machine.
"Because I know," he replied, "the weight of leadership is a heavy one, it's tiring and draining as it weighs on you," he said, noting her eyes were now firmly on the spiraling orb.
"It's so heavy, like a crown sitting atop your head, and the longer that heavy feeling gnaws at you, the more tired and weak you become, surely you can understand that, right?" he asked gently. Chelsea nodded, still frowning.
"Yes...i can see that, but-"
"And that weakness can spread into other areas," he said, interrupting her, "it can make you lose focus, make you feel bogged down, make your mind fuzzy and harder to think, that heaviness makes things so tiring and hazy," he said softly.
"Ha...hazy," she said, nodding as she began swaying back and forth in her chair.
"Exactly, it makes you feel like you're trapped in a fog, unable to think clearly, able to make decisions," he said, watching her closely as her eyes grew heavier and she yawned, "it's like a cloud, a thick mist that hangs over your head and you can't get rid of it, it gets in your ears, your nose, your mouth, and it keeps you from thinking properly," he said. He flicked a tiny switch on the orb and it began spinning on it's own, faster than when he had been doing it. Her eyes went wide briefly, then sagged again, her lids seemingly growing heavier with every blink.
Avery got out of his seat and walked up behind her. She didn't seem to notice as she remained locked onto the spinning orb.
"Trapped" he said, "trapped in a cursed fog called 'leadership,' and it will eat away at you. It will consume you, leaving you a dazed, empty shell, and you'll never be able to escape it."
"Like a curse," Chelsea repeated dully, her eyes still locked onto the orb from underneath half-closed lids.
"Exactly," Avery said, smiling, "it's like a curse, and it's one that no one wants to bear, but you can't shake it off, you can't get rid of it, and you'd be stuck with it, forever, you would hate it."
