THE MINDLINK MATTER
Written by: Christopher J. Smith aka BlogNinjaChris
(Trigger Warning) This short story may not be suitable for everyone.
Cheers go to Jeff Paisly
Everybody on the sixth floor cheered, except me. As we were celebrating a promotion for a co-worker at an office party. Jeff Paisly, who used to work down on the third floor, was moved to the sixth floor. Which is where I work. He was a normal man, who has freakishly good sales tactics. I have seen the man at work. He was like a cold call miracle worker. I should also let you know; my job’s position involves me landing big-time corporate companies, to buy our products.
I am sort of a big deal here. I landed some of our highest paying clients and have built lifelong relationships with owners of companies featured in Forbes magazine. I have saved some of the toughest clients to work with. Who told us that they were going to find someone else to provide the same type of products but cheaper. All I said was “cheaper might not mean quality.” I did research on the company they said they were going to go with and knew all the info while I was on the phone with them. The Company I work for is named Mind Link Associates. I also help drive much of the sales team by coming up with scripts for the rest of the company to follow. This man, Jeff, he is an intelligent man, kind, but can really build a relationship fast. Plus, he goes completely off-script. Which is what makes him so valuable. Also, a threat to me.
At the party, people were shouting “Congratulations Jeff” and there were the sounds of corks popping off the champagne bottles. All I could think at the time was the fact that he just pulled off one of the most important sales, in the history of Mind Link Associates. Which is why I feel like my job could be on the line. What Jeff had pulled off was; He landed a fortune five hundred deal with an outside affiliate, by the name of Global Design Incorporated. The company was capable of producing massive amounts of assets for dirt cheap. Then we then sell those assets at a much larger price tag. I have been trying to land a deal with them for nearly three years now. Mind you, Jeff started here six months ago. It took me three years, and Global Design kept putting me aside. Then, he comes in and does it within a few months of being with the company. He landed that deal and had been promoted to the same floor I am on in six months.
It took me years to get where I am. Twelve of them at that! Can you understand why I would be having job insecurities? I mean, it's like he cheated his way all the way to the top. I worked my butt off. Now, for me to feel like my job is on the rocks, tumbling down a mountain, on the edge of a tornado. It was absurd. I knew exactly what it was in which I was needing to do to maintain my job. I needed to kill him. Make him look like he died in a mugging. That’s right! Make it seem like he was being robbed, had tried to fight back, struggled, and was shot in the process. But how could I do this and get away with it?
I pondered it for a little while and decided to not make it seem conspicuous in any sort of fashion. I hated every minute of the celebration. I knew I must act fast. It was only a matter of months, if not weeks before he takes over my position.
Plotting
Later that evening, after everyone went home, I decided to get a pen and paper then brainstorm where I was going to do it. I already knew how I was going to kill Jeff. I was so worried that the cops might figure me out. I thought like a cop for hours. Thinking how I would bust someone who shot someone in a robbery. Placing myself in different scenarios. Acting them all out. Then the idea came to me. I needed to do it far enough away. I then thought, make it a business trip to Las Vegas. He just got promoted, I can pull the strings, to make it so we can take a business trip there. Once there, I can make it look like a homicide/robbery. I would make it look like I had nothing to do with it.
Trip to Vegas
The next day, I had brought up the idea of Vegas to the sixth floor, everybody was excited. It was easy enough to convince them to go. Most everyone on the sixth floor had clients in Nevada, some even family. Everyone was looking forward to it, even Jeff. I knew that murder was on my mind, and I knew it was risky if I do the wrong thing from here. I just wanted my job security.
Now that everyone was in all we had to do was leave two people or more behind to manage the company and there were more than two who wanted to stay. Mainly, because of business purposes. Mary had a client she was working with who needed a large order and expressed she needed to stay. I agreed with whatever everyone wanted, just as long as Jeff said yes. And he did. Jeff was extremely excited because it was he who inspired the trip. I made it a point to tell everyone Jeff had given me the idea for the trip. He felt honored and told us that he couldn’t say no since he was the inspiration behind the trip. We planned to stay on the strip for a week and scheduled to leave the very next day. Some people were then forced to stay back because they were not able to make the proper arrangements in order to go. I offered them bonuses just to shut them up.
Everything was going as planned.
I told Jeff I was going to rent a limousine service and show up at his condo at eight a.m. to take him to the airport. He said he would be ready to go by then and that he would call if anything came up. I agreed, shook his hand, and told him that I was going to go outside for some fresh Baltimore air. Soon later things were starting to die down. After all the excitement talking about Vegas, we all continued our day. Jeff, leading the sales team all day long. I felt certain that my plan was going to work. I gained his trust so easily. Now to sink the bite marks in to ensure that I will not get caught.
I needed to find a black-market weapons dealer in Nevada near Vegas. I needed something that would be silenced. I didn’t want to attract any attention when I shot him. Also, I wanted to make sure he was dead, a silenced gun would be sufficient. It would make it so I could shoot him multiple times and not draw so much attention. It would be easy enough if my plan goes the way it should. I had a friend in Reno, who would make a discreet sale of the right weapon. I just had to use a payphone to contact him, so I was untraceable. Once contacted, he said he would give me the discreet location via a map. I had then been instructed to meet up with one of his men at a burger joint to pick up the map. I then thanked him and told him I would be in contact. He said “Sure. Keep in contact. But if I ever dare find out you are not on a secure line, I will kill you myself.” Then hung up.
I thought it would be simple to convince Jeff to pull money off an atm. I will just say “drinks are on you tonight. I then make him pull off a couple of grand.” At first, he might be hesitant. Then I pull the “you’re the top seller” card. There is no way that wouldn’t work. It would make him probably blush, he’s such a nice guy. Almost a sucker for comments like that. It probably even gets him off at night.
I thought that I could also give him a fake lead and have him meet me somewhere. Jeff didn’t mind doing face to face meetings for possible leads. I could get the number off the same payphone I used, and give him a lead saying to call, and a side comment saying interested in face to face meetings. Call after 8:30 P.M. He would then call and set up an appointment for his own death. That phone call would be the most important. I would then have to convince him to meet at a location far enough away and hidden from the sound of the gunfire, even with a silencer.
I decided to head to the library and use a guest code to search google for abandoned houses near Las Vegas. The search had over a million hits. I found the perfect spot. The Clown Inn. The place looked like the perfect place for someone to get shot. The motel was abandoned but still intact. It was a gold mine for a murder to take place.
I would then call Jeff acting intoxicated and let him know the address of the Clown Motel, to pick me up. Once he arrived, I would then answer the door. With him unaware of me with a gun behind the door. I would slowly open the door and before it would even register in his brain who I was, he would take two slugs directly in the face. Never to be seen again. I would then drag his body into the motel and then leave unscathed. Find a spot to ditch the weapon. Then talk to the cops with a strong enough alibi. I would say I went and gambled at a local casino. Lost some money and decided to hit the hay. I just need to get rid of Jeff.
It was nearly 10 p.m. by the time I decided to take a shower and head to bed. I wasn’t tired. I knew I needed to go to bed. I thought things were going to work. I was a bit nervous and excited at the same time. I could picture it all in my head already. I felt relief, as I sensed how this outcome would be. I closed my eyes and drifted into the abyss of my dreams. Which, I can still see how all this was going to play out. It felt like I wasn't sleeping and that I had already had invited Jeff to the Clown Motel.
Something felt odd. Suddenly, my dream became a nightmare.
I then opened my eyes. My hands were covered in blood. I looked around feeling as if I had just woke up. I was terrified and didn’t know what was going on. I looked around and there were people surrounding me shouting. All I could make out from their shouting was “What’s going on?” or “What Happened?” I didn’t know how to take in all of my surroundings. All I could remember was, taking in a deep breath, then blacking out again. The next time I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. In dreadful pain. Like... I had been shot.
The nurse then came in and said, “I am glad to see you are awake Mr. Knolton. You can expect a series of doctors to come in within the next few hours to run some tests, sir.” I wasn’t able to respond. Mainly, because I had no idea what happened. One minute I was home planning a murder in Vegas, going to my own bed, and the next minute I wake in the hospital bed. I was in shock of what was going on. I didn’t know how to react. The nurse had then instructed me not to move around fast for fear of accidental removal of the IV that was connected to my arm.
The Nurse
It felt as if a train had hit me. That’s how I felt. I no longer even wanted to live, knowing that I never was able to kill Jeff. About five minutes had passed, then the first doctor came in. At this point, I felt I needed to ask if someone might know what had been happened. I looked at the doctor and asked. “Excuse me, Doctor... Warner is it?” I knew his name from a lanyard, which had his picture on it, above his name. “Can you tell me what happened?” The doctor then looked at me and shook his head. “I can only tell you that you were shot three times. Once in the chest. You are lucky you are alive because it was mere millimeters from being a lethal shot. The other gunshot wounds were two rounds that penetrated the stomach. Our emergency team had to rush you to the O.R. While in the operating room, they had to remove about eight feet of your intestines. Your bowels are still in now intact, however, there is a high probability your stomach will never feel the same again. Here at Saint Markus Hospital, we will do our best to provide you the best experience, you can have at a hospital. And with an expert surgeon like Frank Himmelton, you will be back to yourself in no time.”
Operation Table
All I could think is “Who the hell shot me?” I don’t even remember leaving Baltimore. The last thing I remember was going to bed. Was I drugged at some point and didn't know? I began getting anxious. I then tried to sit up. I noticed my ankle was cuffed to the hospital bed. I looked at the doctor and demanded that he free me. When the doctor refused, I started losing my patience, and fast. I started screaming “HELP” “HELP”. Then nurses and doctors rushed in as if someone was being murdered, following them was a law enforcement officer. The officer looked me directly in the eyes. He turned to all the nurses and doctors and expressed “Nope! That man doesn’t need help. In my eyes, your doctors and nurses should have let that son of a bitch bleed out. He is one nasty animal. I cannot believe that somebody could do, what that man has done! He deserves to go to hell!”
I then cried out “What did I do!?”
The officer looked at me and said “Don’t act like you don’t know, you sick, demented fucker. You act like you didn’t just go, in the middle of a city, with a silenced pistol, telling people you were going to shoot someone. Shouting it at the top of your lungs. Then, one of your co-workers tried calming you down, AND YOU TRIED TO SHOOT HIM, YOU STUPID FUCKER! The really funny part is when your co-worker took the gun from you. He tried to talk you out of your pathetic craziness. You were ranting and raving something about your job. You reached into your jacket pocket grabbing for a potential second weapon. AND WERE SHOT! Which, it turns out you didn’t have one! You are lucky to be alive. You are just not going to have freedom. Not for at least 10 years Mr. Knolton. And your money is not going to be able to save you. I will personally make sure of it!”
I then yelled in tears. “Who was it?” “PLEASE! I have a right to know.”
The officer said, “You know him by the name of Mr. Paisly. If that doesn’t do it, then, I don’t know what will. The officer then looked at me and said. “You know all that bawling you’re doing isn’t going to be good for you behind those bars. Somebody is going to make you their bitch, right when you get there. Once you are in the clear from the doctors, I am going to make sure that happens.”
The tears took over even more. I don’t even remember anything from the incident taking place, at all. The worst of all now Jeff is guaranteed to take my job. He will also look like a superhero doing it.
The way Jeff Paisly looked, after the incident.
Never try to conspire on someone to get ahead. Even if they are better than you. Look what happened here. Mr. Knolton envied Mr. Paisly and the outcome had favored Mr. Paisly. Mr. Knolton is now headed to his three hots and a cot. Remember hard work pays off, as long as you keep that pace going, and refrain from doing do bad things to people.
I hope you enjoyed reading my short story. Don't hesitate to drop feedback or criticize this story. Your feedback/constructive criticism helps me improve my writings. Also, please be sure to check out my other blogs. Thanks!
-Christopher J. Smith
Any reference to any name, event, or given places is coincidental and not meant to be on purpose. I didn’t use real people for this story, so it is 100% made up. I would appreciate your feedback and comments. So, feel free to tell me what is on your mind!
