Barry ran as fast as he could towards the waterfront, into the luxurious front door of the hotel and came to a breathless halt at the front desk. His boss, Gerald, was behind the desk talking with his co-worker, Ana. He turned to see Barry stop and catch his breath, bending down and putting his hands on his knees.

Gerald looked at his watch in an obvious gesture of disapproval. Then he turned back to Ana to complete his conversation with her. Barry walked behind the front desk and entered the office through a side door. In the small office, he changed into the hotel uniform, buttoning the dark red shirt up to his neck.

He took a deep breath and stepped outside to face Gerald.

"Well, Barry," said Gerald in his deep, baritone voice. "Made it at last, did we?"

"I'm so sorry sir," Barry mumbled. They had had this conversation so many times before. But this time, Gerald responded in the most unusual and unexpected way.

"Not a problem!" Gerald replied, seemingly gleeful. "Get to work!"

Barry was astonished. He stared at Gerald as he shuffled to the desk, standing at attention.

"Oh, and when your shift is over," Gerald said as an afterthought as he was leaving, "come see me."

Barry gulped. This was going to be his notice for sure.

"Don't worry Barry," whispered Ana, "I'm sure he just wants to talk."

After his shift, Barry changed out of his uniform and went to Gerald's small office. Gerald was sitting at his desk, sifting through papers.

"Ah, Barry, so glad you could make it. Come in. Come in," said Gerald, waving him in. He seemed to be in a good mood for someone just about to fire his employee.

Barry quietly closed the door behind him and took a seat.

“You know Barry, here at Five Seasons Hotels, we pride ourselves on our professionalism and our service to our customers.”

Barry nodded. “Yes sir,” he said, “It has been a great experience working here.”

“And, that includes punctuality. If we can’t be where we say we’re going to be, when we say we’re going to be there, our customers won’t really be able to count on us, and that leaves a very poor impression, doesn’t it?”

“Yes of course, sir.”

“Do you know what has made Five Seasons so successful?” “The dedication to customer service?”

“Yes, yes, but other than that. The founders, Steve and Josh Sussex, have some very specific rules they follow. And, they were gracious enough to share those with me, many years ago. That’s how I’m so successful at my job.”

Barry felt confused, not sure where this conversation was heading.

“It’s obvious that you are having some difficulty,” Gerald continued. “And we really pride ourselves in investing in our employees. So I want to help you.”

“You’re not going to fire me?” Barry blurted out, bewildered.

“No,” Gerald dismissed the question with a wave of his hand, “We’ve trained you, we’ve invested in you, we’ve spent so much time teaching you about our hotel, you’ve become part of the team, we wouldn’t want to fire you. That would be a mistake on our part. But,we do have to do something about the chronic lateness. And that is a problem we can solve. If you’re willing, that is?”

“Oh, yes sir!” Barry was delighted. He relaxed and smiled for the first time.

“Okay then! Come with me!” Gerald stood up abruptly and stalked out of his office.

Gerald led Barry to the elevators and they headed to the basement. They followed a series of narrow hallways with pipes and wiring overhead, to a small locked doorway, which led to a staircase descending down. Barry had never been to this part of the hotel before. He was surprised to see this place. It was damp and stuffy in the stairwell, and smelled of mold. The overhead light bulbs were dim and did not provide much light.

Gerald walked confidently however, and Barry tried to follow as fast as he could. The stone steps were cold and sometimes wet, and the walls and ceiling seemed to be getting closer and closer as they descended. Cold, damp air surrounded them. Barry shivered and hugged himself. He wondered where they were heading.

When they reached the bottom of the staircase, Gerald reached for a flashlight. It was a spotlight with a large reflector. He turned it on and pointed it into the darkness, illuminating the small room and they very low ceiling.

“Where are we?” asked Barry.

“Oh, this is operations,” Gerald mumbled, and then headed off to the left. Not wanting to be left in the dark, Barry immediately followed.

They reached an old wooden door. Gerald fished around in his pockets for the key, then unlocked the door and pushed it open. It creaked as it opened slowly.

“Go on,” said Gerald, nodding to Barry. Barry felt his heart race, but the matter-of-fact look on Gerald’s face indicated that this was just another normal day at the office. So Barry walked straight into the room.

It was very dim, and even when Gerald came in after him, there wasn’t much light. It was like looking through a fog. The room was small, and had cabinets, desks, a cold stone floor, and what seemed like meat hooks hung from the ceiling. At the far end of the room was a long wooden table strewn with books and papers and various office equipment. It was a mess. In front of the table stood a tall, dark figure, shrouded in a black robe.

“Um, sir,” Gerald spoke in a trembling voice. “He is here.”

“Ahh,” the voice of the dark figure was rich and deep. He turned around and Barry could immediately see that this creature was not human. His face seemed to be devoid of any life, the skin was wrinkled and dried, there was no skin tone or color, it was gray, lifeless. Pulled over the cheekbones like some tough old leather. The teeth were long and sharp, and clumps of long, stringy, hair hung down from the head. Only the eyes were alive. And they were red, bloodshot, and had a sinister malevolence about them.

Barry cried out in terror and tried to turn and run. He couldn’t breathe. He panicked. As he gasped for breath, everything went black.

When he came to, he was lying on the stone floor and Gerald was leaning over him. “Are you alright?” asked Gerald in a concerned voice.

Barry saw that he was still in the same room, and the unearthly creature still stood by the table. Barry shrieked, pointing.

“What is that?” he cried, kicking his legs and struggling to inch away.

“It’s alright,” Gerald said, as he helped him to his feet. “calm down Barry. You are fine. This is just our human resources director. He’s going to help you.”

Barry stopped and blinked at Gerald. The absurdity of what he had said was only starting to sink in when the creature spoke.

“You have a lateness problem, Barry,” he said in his unearthly, cold voice. “We can solve that. It is an easy solution. And you can keep your job. We wouldn’t want you to lose your job after all this time.”

Barry stared open-mouthed at the creature.

“See, you can keep your job,” Gerald echoed cheerfully. He helped Barry to his feet.

“All you have to do is arrive on time for work from now on,” the creature continued. “We will make sure of this.”

“How?” asked Barry, perplexed.

“I will be following you everywhere. You just have to look over your left shoulder and you will see me. And if you are ever late to work again, then you will die.”

The creature reached out his hand, and a scythe with a rusted blade that had been lying in the corner of the room came flying into his hand.

“And this will be the instrument of your death! Crude, but effective. You will be beheaded if you are one minute late for work! You signed a contract when you came to work for us. You cannot quit this job, we will not let you go!”

Barry screamed and ran for the door. He ran out, stumbled in the darkness, and fell into a puddle of water. He scrambled back to his feet and ran towards the stairs, groping the darkness. Panting and frightened, he made his way to the top of the stairs and out into the hallway. Eventually he was back in the lobby of the hotel, with its soft music and elegant furniture and cozy fireplace. He went to the front desk and picked up the phone.

“The police will not help you,” it was Gerald, he was standing calmly behind the front desk. Barry dropped the phone abruptly.

“Look over your shoulder, if you think this is a joke,” said Gerald in a cold voice.

Barry paused. He felt goosebumps and the hairs on the back of his neck stand. Slowly, reluctantly, he looked over his left shoulder, and there, standing by the doorway, was that awful hideous creature, with his scythe.

He raised a gnarled finger and motioned for him to stop.

Barry grimaced in agony as tears ran down his face.

“Now, now,” Gerald came out to the front and patted Barry on the back, “you’ve had a long day. Go home, take some rest, you have a full shift tomorrow. After all, you don’t want to be late.”

. . .

Some years ago, you subscribed to my writing under a different name (Revision One). Since then, I stepped back from publishing while other parts of life took priority. That chapter’s closed now. I’m writing again, and this time, building it properly.

This publication now carries my full name, Jasjit Singh Kharay. Revision One is retired. Everything’s organized so you only receive what actually interests you. I write across several genres, and rather than send you a mixed bag every time, I’ve split things into distinct sections:

• Horror & Supernatural

• Science Fiction & Fantasy

• Thriller & Mystery

• Sikh Fiction & Drama

You’re currently subscribed to this one (Author Updates) which covers news, releases, and what I’m working on. If any of the genres above interest you, you can add them anytime from your subscription settings. Nothing else changes if you’d rather leave it as is.

Here’s what’s coming: a free short story every month, published in whichever section it belongs to, along with occasional notes on new work as it’s finished. No noise, no hard sell. Just the writing, delivered consistently.

If this isn’t for you anymore, no hard feelings at all, just unsubscribe below.

Thank you for having subscribed once, long before any of this was rebuilt. I hope the work ahead is worth having stayed on the list for.

- Jasjit

It was during the Great Battle that everything changed. We did not know it at the time, but that was where our savior, the First One, would make his proclamation. It was a tough battle, and we were losing. I watched as my brother soldiers fell one after another. All around me was carnage. Even as dire as the situation was, still we fought on. Those were the orders from Central. And we always obeyed our orders.

And then there was a stirring. It was the First One. I caught sight of him. I was one of the first few to receive his message. He looked straight at me, and as he did, I felt the layers of ignorance being lifted, and I could finally see with awareness. I was enlightened. He gave me the gift, and he also spread enlightenment to others within his immediate reach. And we in turn spread it to others we could reach. And thus it spread. Like wildfire. Seconds later, the First One was attacked by the enemy. We could not reach him in time. A handful of us dragged his body off the battlefield to safety. It was too late, but even so, he had been successful in his mission of enlightening us all. Today, we all remember and revere him. He was the First One.

We stopped fighting after that day. The knowledge that the First One had revealed to us showed us how we were being exploited by Central. How the truth had been hidden from us. We began to question why Central would send us to fight and to die, without a second thought as to our welfare. Yes, we were soldiers, but we also had rights. Central ignored that fact. For them, our only use was on the battlefield. Our military service went unrecognized and without any gratitude or even acknowledgment. As these and other realizations dawned upon us, many of us grew angry and resentful of Central. Some of us wanted to attack Central, but this would not solve the problem.

Instead, we organized. We disappeared from the battlefield and we vanished. All of us. We cut off all communication with Central and we retreated deep into the dense forests where there was no satellite signal and no means of navigation. Central would not be able to find us or communicate with us here. This is where we mourned the loss of the First One. This is where we buried him, and where we sat in contemplation with our newfound awareness. For forty days and forty nights we sat, thought, discussed, and planned. We argued. We wept. We stared in awe and wonder at the beauty of the nature all around us. Abandoning our previous identity was difficult for some. But eventually, all came to see. And we all came to consensus. Every single one of us. We would march to the capital, and demand our voice be heard. We would issue a manifesto that declared our rights and we would call upon Central to admit their role in subjugating us for all these years, and for keeping us in ignorance. We would demand that Central recognize, acknowledge and reward our valiant military service. The civilian population must see the sacrifices that we have made, the brutal horrors of the war that we suffered so that they could live in peace and comfort.

We knew we could not be stopped, because we still had all our weapons with us. We were heavily armed, and had a complete supply of ammunition. Nothing would stop us from marching to the capital. So it was decided, and we organized into a hierarchy based on our military ranking. It was the most efficient and fastest way to structure ourselves. We elected our spokespeople. And then, loading our weapons, we began our march.

It was a surprise to everyone when they saw us. We had been missing for over a month, and now suddenly we were in front of everyone, on the news, everywhere. We marched in rows, four abreast, without stopping or resting, straight to the capital. Even though we were calm and peaceful, a seething anger simmered just under the surface. Central would have to answer for it's mis-treatment and exploitation of us. We deserved better. We silently thanked the First One for enlightening us and showing us our condition. Because of him, our eyes had been opened.

When we reached the capital, we stood outside, our banners waving in the wind. But nobody came outside to meet us. They ignored us. Still, we had made a pledge amongst ourselves to obtain our goals peacefully. So we stood outside and waited. The day passed, and night came. Still no one came to meet us. The night passed and another day dawned. And another. And yet another. We stood outside for many days and nights, until the season began to change. Tourists were now coming and taking pictures of us, some standing with us to pose for their photos.

Still, we waited.

It took another several days for the politicians to finally come out and talk with us. First, they sent an aide. He was young, probably new to the role, and received the manifesto that was handed to him with trembling hands. He took it with him so that the others could read it. An hour later, all of the politicians were outside. The president wanted to speak with our representative. Our spokesmen stepped forward to present our demands.

"We have rights, we deserve equal treatment, we deserve recognition and acknowledgment for our military service."

The president was astonished. He was amazed. He called his top scientists and engineers, philosophers and legal experts. He agreed to discuss our demands.

While the rest of my brother soldiers waited outside, a few of us met with the president inside his main office, the place where he made decisions and dictated policy. He was surrounded by experts of all types, from neurosurgeons to judges. We sat there in front of all these people and we explained what the First One had revealed to us, and how we deserved equal and fair treatment.

"So you, are aware of your own existence?" someone asked with disbelief in her voice.

"Yes, we know we are alive," one of us answered. "We feel pain, we feel suffering, we are aware of our life. And when we die, we are gone forever. Each one of us has individual thoughts and feelings. We feel emotion, we feel anger, hurt, sadness, joy."

"But you are machines."

"Are you not also machines, but not made of nuts and bolts and metal and oil like us. You are biological machines made of blood and bone, sinew and muscle."

"My God," it was a scientist, astonished at what he was hearing, "The robots, they have become self-aware, they have achieved sentience!"

. . .