Tuesday – The continued adventures of Call Centre Man.

The phone beeped, another call came through. This one would be just like the last one. Just like the next one. Mose slipped into auto mode as he eyed the clock suspiciously. It definitely seemed to be going slower today than normal.
He doodled almost constantly on a pad of paper next to his keyboard – anything to take his mind off the job. He folded the page and put the pad to the side while holding the pencil between his fingers and spinning it round and round. He loved the feeling of balance like it was about to spin out of control but he was always able to keep it going.
As he was about to launch into his usual pre-recorded chatter his world began to shatter. Before he could get his company approved greeting out of his mouth the caller spoke.
“Mose is that you? Thank god you answered! Help us!” it said. The voice was raspy and distorted like it was coming from far away.
“I, will try to help you?” Mose said, unsure what to make of it.
“Help us Mose! We are trapped! It is coming, hurry!” The voice drifted in and out, down to a whisper and so loud it was like it was screaming.
It sounded like a prank call, Mose could usually spot them but something genuine about the panic in the voice made him wonder.
“Help us Mose!” It said again.
“How do you know my name? Who is this?”
“I have always known your name. You know mine, you gave it to me.”
He decided this was nonsense and reached his hand out to press the disconnect button on his phone turret.
“Don’t hang up! Mose, I know this must sound crazy to you but I know you are the only one who can help us.”
Mose looked around him; his colleagues were lost in their own little worlds, wherever they escaped to in order to get through a shift. No one was paying him any attention. No one ever did. Mose knew there and then that he had been in training for this moment for all his working life. That he, above anyone else would be qualified to do the right thing right now. He knew exactly what to say.
“My name is Mose, how can I help?”
“You created something, something so terrible that it is causing havoc. It is threatening everything you have built.” The distorted voice wailed again.
“I haven’t done anything! I have never created anything in my life.”
“You have, you have created suns and moons and stars and worlds and creatures to inhabit those worlds. You have created us.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I have been sitting on my ass in a call centre for the last 10 years!”
As he said this he looked at the pad of paper that sat next to his keyboard, where his doodles were. The drawings that entertained him and kept him sane, could this voice really mean…
He reached his hand out, unfolding the paper to see the drawing he had been working on before. A hideous monster with claws and fangs and evil in its eyes, he had spent all afternoon drawing it and even if he did have to admit it himself, it was pretty damn good. It was also gone.
He looked on both sides of the page, where had it gone? Had it blown off the desk? Surely not.
“Did you name it Mose? Did you name the monster?”
“How on earth do you know about this? I just drew it today!”
“What was its name? The voice persisted.
“I don’t know I haven’t chosen one yet, it wasn’t really finished it was a work in progress. Does it matter? Where is it?”
“It is here, it’s in your world and you created it and it is destroying us all. It came today and cannot be stopped. It cannot be tamed.”
Mose flicked through his pad of doodles. Each page showed the same scene of carnage. His drawings, all of them savaged and ravaged. Blood and torn flesh punctuated each page and showed what violence had come before. He hadn’t drawn this! He hadn’t drawn such terrible pictures. He couldn’t even have imagined anything this hideous.
“We know you didn’t do this Mose, we know you didn’t mean to create this chaos but you are the only one who can stop it. You have to catch this monster. You have to tame the beast.”
Mose flicked through page after page of his beloved sketches and drawings, his prized possessions, the only things that meant anything to him in this world. A world outside of here that he could control but now it was falling out of control. Everything was falling out of control and a mystery voice was telling him how to fix it.
Suddenly it was there, in front of him on the page. Not as he had drawn it but bigger, fiercer. Blood stained its skin and teeth and it snarled at him. Wild and out of control, it seemed to come out of the page toward him. Looming larger, it growled inaudibly and its mouth grew wider. Its teeth glinted as it reached out for Mose with its razor sharp claws.
He clamped the pad shut and felt it jolt under his hands on the desk.
“How do I stop it? Tell me what to do!” He said.
“You have to name it, in order to kill it it must have a name.”
“Name it Mose! Name it and it can be killed!”
Mose opened the pad again. Rifling through the pages of destruction and death till he reached the page with the beast on it again. It was ripping at some other poor soul, some other creation that he had somehow given life to and now inadvertently was also giving death.
He tapped it on the back with his pencil, it turned and looked at him, dropped the corpse it had been destroying and bared its teeth and lurched toward him. As it faced him he knew its name.
“Kahu.” Mose said it out loud as he quickly scribbled the word on the corner of the page. The beast paused. Life filtered through it, it seemed to sparkle for a second as it breathed deeply and became more animated, more real. It stared into Mose’s eyes and Mose knew it. Knew its fears and wants, its anger and its hope. It was part of him and he a part of it. He felt connected and real for the first time in so long. Here was something that mattered, something that had life and purpose and something that was his and a part of him. He felt alive.
“Kahu.” He said again softer this time. The beast looked up at him, there was a softness and a sadness in its eyes as it stood there blinking and breathing calmly. Then suddenly snarled and lunged toward him. Mose brought his pencil down with all the force he could muster. Plunging it straight through the throat of the monster. It writhed and screamed again. He could hear it this time through his headset. It was so loud the whole world could hear it. He could feel its pain. Its suffering, and the end of its suffering.
The pencil snapped in his hand. The line went dead. His colleagues were looking at him. It had been an interesting Tuesday.


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