The Daily Tourniquet

The Elevated Spider

By

Rebecca Nazar

Lottie seethed as she churned out ream after ream after ream of photocopies for her feckless coworkers. After thousands of shifts, none had acknowledged her mastery, so this year she resolved to copy a spider’s ways and means. Real flies on the wall overheard her mumbled murderous plot, but the office personnel buzzed about oblivious of the duct tape, rope, hooks, and sleeping bags she accrued in her cubicle.

During the New Year’s Eve office party that evening, Lottie spiked the punch. She stuffed the drugged revelers in individual sleeping bags, wound each securely with tape, and then suspended them in the elevator shaft. Feigning hysteria, she dialed 911 and weaved a web of lies. Naturally, the police officers, racing to her rescue, took the elevator. Although muffled, the victim’s screams were discernible. When the elevator doors rattled open, she confessed outright, her expression smug, her tone venomous.

Before being cuffed, Lottie stroked the copy machine with her long, lithe fingers and made a firm resolution. “Those asses will never make you the butt of their jokes ever again, my love.”

Rebecca Nazar’s works of horror have appeared in Champagne Shivers, Twisted Tongue, Bards and Sages, and MircoHorror. A list of all her work can be found at rebeccanazar.com.