Death Becomes Work

There were 3 things Olive was 90% sure about:

She should’ve grabbed a muffin on her way out (her rumbling stomach wasn’t exactly inconspicuous)

The guy three seats over was hiding a pigeon in his overcoat (there was distinct cooing)

No one was looking for her…yet

Olive kept one eye on the pigeon guy and the other on the news app on her phone. “Florida man dons chicken suit before crashing four-wheeler into Starbucks, A woman in Mississippi shoots husband, then goes grocery shopping. 'Ok, nothing out of the ordinary', Olive thought, everything seemed on the up and up, so far so good. It was fine, everything would be fine. It was just a normal day on the way to work, nothing to be worried about. Nope. Nothing. Nada. Olive closed her eyes, took a deep breath in, and then slowly let it out. She was cool as a cucumber.

"Ah!" Olive jolted, her phone slipping out of her sweaty palm, and landing underneath the seat across the aisle. It seems the pigeon had decided to make a break for it. Overcoat guy seemed none to pleased with this development, but no one else on the subway even batted an eye. This wasn't newsworthy, it was just New York. It was only Olive's fraying nerves that had her so on edge.

Had she gone too far, was the promotion really worth all of this, worth the anxiety and the looking over her shoulder, and the pulling out clumps of her hair... which she definitely did not do this morning in the shower. Was it worth living with what she'd done last night? Olive contemplated all of this as she bent down to grab her phone. When she straightened back up, a poster on the wall across from her caught her eye. It was one of those ridiculously cheesy motivational posters you'd see plastered all over a therapist's office. It had a picture of a some random guy hiking up a cliff. The caption below it read: "If there is no struggle, there is no progress." While Olive would normally roll her eyes, today it was just what she needed.

This promotion was all she had. Had all the blood, sweat and tears she'd poured into the last four years of her job meant nothing? She needed to get her head in the game, keep her eye on the ball, put her game face on, uh...think of another sports metaphor later! This is what she's worked her entire life for. She deserved this. She'd earned this. She wasn't going to give up just because things were a little difficult.

Olive was flying high by the time she stepped off the subway and started making her way down the street towards her office building. She’d done the world a favor, really. She walked through the revolving doors like she owned them. From now on she'd strut into her new corner office with her head held high and never again have to see the smug, arrogant face of Maggie---

"Matherson!" Every head in the lobby turned at her outburst, including the woman in question. The very much alive, walking, talking, very not dead woman standing in the lobby looking like she'd just stepped off the Paris Fashion Week runway and not at all like she'd drowned in a puddle of her own blood the night before.

"Maggie Matherson! Look at you! You're here. In the lobby. Of the place we both work at. Imagine. That." Olive added a couple of finger guns to go along with her mental breakdown, a feat considering she was elbow deep in the overpriced lattes she'd stopped to pick up on her way to work. No one will ask about the coworker you un-alived last night if you shove $8 coffees in their faces. Right?

"Have you been sniffing more white out than usual Quimby?" Maggie's narrowed eyes honed in on Olive like a military grade weapons system. The woman missed nothing, and right now she was looked like she was locking in on Olive's exact coordinates before she took aim. This wasn't unusual behavior. Maggie had hated her since, well Olive couldn't actually remember when it had started, just that it ran bone deep and was very much requited.

Scenes from last night flashed in Olive's mind. The bar. The stairs. The unresponsive look in Maggie's eyes. There was so much blood, there's no way Maggie could have survived that. Yet there she was, glaring at her from across the lobby with a knowing look in her eye, like she could tell precisely what Olive was thinking.

Olive quickly excused herself and shuffled over to the elevators, pushing the button in a daze. Had she just imagined it? Was it all some elaborate day dream gone wild. Had her fantasies began to bleed into her reality so heavily that she'd convinced herself she was a murderer and then convinced herself it was ok, noble even? And for what, a job? What was happening to her? She wasn't this person. She had always been a very firm believer that murder was in the very bad, stay away, don't do it column. It was this job, it was turning her into someone she didn't recognize. Maybe she should take some time off, get a little perspective. It could be good for her to----

"Oh, Maggie. Hi." She'd been so focused on her own introspection that she hadn't noticed Maggie in front of her. She had somehow made it off the elevator and across the office to her desk at the other end of the room. She had no idea how long they'd been standing there, in front of Olive's cubicle. Maggie was leaning against it, looking down at Olive with her arms crossed and that same knowing expression. As she looked up at her, Olive wondered why they'd always hated each other. Why did women in the workplace always have to be mortal enemies? Why couldn't they befriend and support each other? Maggie couldn't be all bad, at the end of the day she was just like Olive, constantly trying to prove she was worthy. They were actually very similar when she thought about it, so why couldn't they let bygones be bygones and---

"Watch where you're going you little troll”, Maggie sneered.

Ah yes, that was why.

Maggie leaned over so she was eye level with Olive, invading her personal space.

"I just wanted to let you know, you're gonna have to try a lot harder to get rid of me if you want that promotion. Because short of killing me, and making sure I stay dead, there's no way in hell Vivienne would ever choose you," She looked Olive up and down, her disgust evident. "Over me."

Olive blinked, sure she'd misheard Maggie, this must be her imagination playing tricks on her again. There was no way Maggie had just confirmed Olive's, accidental but also kind of very on purpose, attempted murder last night in the middle of the office.

"I--I don't--you, uh..."

"Uh, I-I don't, w-w-what?" Maggie mocked her. "I'd watch my back if I were you Quimby." She smirked, giving Olive one last murderous glance before snatching up one of her lattes and marching away without another word.

Watch her back? Olive was fuming. Of course killing her wouldn't be that easy, Olive should've known she'd be just much of a nuisance in death as she is in life.

There was no way in hell she was taking time off now.

That promotion was hers and that bitch was so dead.

The rivalry had started off small, as these things normally do. A few stolen lunches here, some laxatives in a coffee there, you know harmless stuff. Then came the February staff meeting. Everyone knew staff meetings were just an excuse to suck up to Vivienne, not like they needed one. She'd size them up like they were lambs lining up for the slaughter. In a metaphorical sense of course because Viv is a vegetarian Wednesday through Friday and every other Tuesday... but crappy metaphor aside, Vivienne was the puppet master and everyone was eager for the chance to hang themselves on her strings.

This particular staff meeting, however, was the day she'd be announcing her short list for the promotion everyone had been salivating over since they day Anna Caruso had announced her pregnancy and subsequent maternity leave. Sure, Olive, like everyone, had done the obligatory baby talk: "Congratulations", "That's so exciting," "What are you having?" Yadda, yadda, yadda. But every time Olive put on her fake smile and gave Anna's ever-growing stomach a pat, the only thing going through her mind was "hurry up and crawl of of there you mangy little fetus, that corner office is mine." Today was the day work friendships would be tested, lines would be drawn, and only one woman would reign victorious in the end. Olive was determined that that woman would be her. Once the short list was unveiled, Olive could finally narrow down her list of victims —er, competitors and start to hatch her game plan.

Turns out, it was a very short list. Only two names to be exact: Olive Quimby and Maggie Matherson. Olive shouldn't have been surprised. She always knew it would come down to her and Maggie at some point, they'd been at each other's throats for a while now and Vivienne did love a good blood bath.

That night Olive had been having a drink at Juno's, the bar around the corner from the office, when she spotted Maggie from across the room. She was drinking and toasting with a group of her office cronies. It looked like they were celebrating her victory already, like Olive was such a non issue that Maggie already had it in the bag. She'd followed Maggie when she ducked outside for a smoke. She'd just wanted to talk, to prove to Maggie that she deserved this promotion just as much as her. Olive hadn't meant to push her. Things had just gotten so heated and Olive hadn't noticed the stairs leading down to the alley next to the bar. It all happened very quickly. One minute she was telling Olive how pathetic she was, and the next Maggie was face down in a pool of blood.

Olive had pulled out her phone to call 911.

Then she'd thought about the promotion. The corner office. The late nights and all the missed birthday parties and family events over the past four years. Everything could all be ripped away from her just like that, all because of an accident, all because of Maggie.

So, instead she'd walked away.

And that had been the end of it.

Well, she'd thought that had been the end of it, until Maggie showed up completely fine this morning. Olive leaned back in her rolling chair and may or may not have contemplated the pros and cons of cutting the brakes on Maggie's car. She took a long sip of her latte only to spit it back out all over her desk. She coughed and gagged and gasped for air as a bitter, chemical taste clawed at her throat. She couldn't breathe. Olive practically launched herself from her desk, her chair rolling back to hit her filing cabinet with a loud thump, and made a beeline for the water cooler. She stopped short just as she rounded the corner and spotted it. Completely empty. Maggie leaned against it watching Olive choke with a smug look of satisfaction as she dangled an empty print toner cartridge from her freshly manicured claws.

The rest of the week played out like a homicidal movie montage. On Tuesday, Olive rigged the coffee machine to explode in Maggie's face, thinking a few third degree burns would do her good. Wednesday, Maggie had the elevator take Olive all the way up to the last floor before the breaks failed and she plummeted forty stories. She quickly learned to take the stairs after that, dislocated bones were a bitch to pop back in. Olive went in to work early on Thursday to add a special blend of broken glass and drain cleaner to Maggie's smoothie.

Neither of them could be killed, which should have been concerning, but the only thing either of them cared about was that the other wouldn't die.

By the time Friday rolled around, both women were a little worse for wear.

Then Viv dropped a bomb. In order to "make things a little more interesting", Viv had declared that the first woman to score a big ticket account and bring the contract to her office before 9 o'clock that night would automatically get the promotion. She may as well have waved a red flag in front of them. On the plus side, both women were now far too busy to think of creative ways to murder one another.

Olive held her breath as she watched the floor numbers slowly rise. She'd decided to risk the elevator tonight, not wanting the stairs to slow her down. She already was cutting it close at a quarter to nine. The elevator finally came to a stop on her floor and she exhaled as she stepped off in tact. The office was darker than usual, everyone else gone for the night. Olive glanced around warily looking for any sign of Maggie, the coast appeared to be clear, but she'd learned early on to never underestimate her. She started in the direction of Vivienne's office, her heart beating in sync with her quick steps.

"Ow, what the hell!", Olive's hand flew up as she felt a sharp sting in her neck. She dislodged something and stared at it for a few seconds, not quite comprehending what she was seeing. A pencil. There was a freaking pencil sticking out of her neck.

"Ah!" Another pencil flew by her head, grazing her cheek and landing in the wall by her ear. She looked over in time to see a mane of blonde hair ducking into a cubicle.

Maggie.

Olive took off sprinting towards Vivienne's office just as another pencil came flying at her. She wouldn't let herself be distracted by a little light impaling. She turned a corner and yes! Vivienne's door was in sight, just a few more feet.

Her hands went to her neck as she's suddenly yanked back and dragged to the floor. Maggie had a phone cord wrapped around her neck and was quickly cutting off her oxygen supply.

"You--uh--I —sto--"

"What's that Quimby?" Maggie pulled the cord tighter. "I can't quite understand you."

Spots clouded her vision as Olive struggled with the cord. Then she saw something silver in the corner of her eye and a plan quickly formed. She slowly stopped fighting and pretended to go limp long enough for Maggie to relax her hold. Olive waited until she heard Maggie start to stand before she grabbed a pair of scissors off the desk and lunged, stabbing her right in the jugular.

“Ugh, you bitch!” Maggie swayed into the desk and Olive made a run for it, still gasping for air.

Just when Olive thought she might make it, Maggie tackled her from behind, turned her on her back and straddled her, a stapler raised above her head.

"Ahem," both women froze and slowly looked up to see Vivienne assessing the situation with a raised brow.

"My office please." Vivienne turned and walked away without another word while both women scrambled up to hobble after her.

"Well girls, I can see how hard you've both been working." Vivienne sat on the edge of her desk sizing up the two women.

Olive and Maggie both stood a little taller.

"And I do mean that literally," Viv chuckled as she gestured to her right thigh. "Olive hun, you've got a little something," Olives glanced down to find pencil sticking out of her leg, she must've missed it earlier. Olive yanked the pencil out with a grunt and turned to glare at Maggie who did nothing to hide her snort.

"Um, Maggie dear, you've also got some uh", Vivienne's hand swiped over her neck and Olive watched giddily as Maggie slowly dislodged the scissors.

"Alas, there can only be one." Vivienne looked between Olive and Maggie, pausing for effect.

Olive and Maggie both bristled at Vivienne's dramatics, they were so sick of waiting, the anticipation might kill them. God knows they couldn't finish the job.

"The truth is," Vivienne started, " I don't think either of you are ready for this level of responsibility right now. I say we table the promotion for now and revisit it in a couple of years."

Olive couldn't believe what she was hearing. They had literally been willing to kill for this promotion and now Vivienne was just taking it away like they were kids fighting over the same toy?

Olive didn’t know what to do with this hunger within her, this blinding rage that boiled up inside her and demanded vengeance. She swore right then and there, as she glared at Vivienne's smug face, that she would see this woman destroyed, no matter who long it took. Turns out, she didn't need to wait long. Olive watched with a mix of horror and admiration as Maggie grabbed a paperweight off Viv's desk and swung. Vivienne never even saw it coming.

Both women watched as Vivienne lay unmoving on the floor. After a few seconds, Olive bent down to check her pulse.

"Well, at least she can die." Olive sighed, the adrenaline finally wearing off as the events of the week caught up with her.

"Mm, it's so satisfying when they actually stay down." Maggie let out a breath and chucked the paper weight at Vivienne's feet.

Olive looked at Maggie, "You hungry?"

"Starving!"

"Wanna grab a burger?"

"God, yes!" Maggie stepped over Viv's body and linked arms with Olive. "I haven't had red meat on a Friday in years!"