Sunday Short: Vacancy

The job posting had been up for months.

URGENT HIRING. NO EXPERIENCE NEEDED. HIGH PAY. IMMEDIATE START.

It sounded fake, of course — too vague, too enthusiastic, too desperate. But Malik was even more desperate. Three months unemployed, eviction notice taped to his door, phone bill overdue. When he saw the ad for Ravel Dynamics Inc., he clicked without thinking.

He applied at 2:14 a.m.

He received an interview confirmation at 2:17.

The email didn’t include a greeting. Just an address, a time, and:

We look forward to filling our vacancies.

Ravel Dynamics was located on the 17th floor of a half-abandoned corporate building. The elevator lights flickered so badly Malik climbed the stairs instead.

The office lobby was wrong the moment he entered.

The walls were too white, too bare — no artwork, no posters, no company logo. Just rows of empty chairs lining the hallway, all facing the same direction as if watching something Malik couldn’t see.

A receptionist sat behind glass, but she didn’t speak. She only pointed to a single metal door.

Malik swallowed hard and stepped inside.

The “interview room” had no table. No chairs. Just a bright overhead light and a man in a suit whose smile didn’t change even when he blinked.

“Welcome, Malik,” the man said. “Thank you for applying. We have many vacancies.”

His voice was calm, but the room felt colder with each word.

“Tell me,” the interviewer continued, “how badly do you need this job?”

Malik forced a laugh. “Well… badly enough to be here, I guess.”

The man nodded slowly — too slowly.

"We value desperation. It keeps employees loyal.”

A thin scratching sound echoed through the floor. Malik’s skin prickled.

“Is there… construction going on?”

“There is always work,” the man replied.

The door behind Malik locked with a metallic clang.

Then the floor split open.

A long, rectangular slot — the exact shape of a coffin — unsealed beneath him. Inside, he saw… people. Half-asleep, half-alive, their bodies strapped to metal supports. Tubes ran from their veins into the walls, feeding something unseen.

Malik staggered back, but cold hands grabbed his ankles from below.

“W–what is this?!”

“Our workforce,” the interviewer said smoothly. “We hire. We never fire.”

Malik tried to run, but more slots opened around the room, each containing another pale, drained face. Their eyes rolled upward, following him. Their fingers clawed at the floor.

“We appreciate your willingness to join us.”

The interviewer stepped closer, his smile widening unnaturally.

“We always have vacancies.”

Malik screamed as hands dragged him down, pulling him into the machine — into the walls — into the building itself.

The floor sealed shut above him. The light went still.

Outside, the receptionist typed silently at her computer.

A new job listing appeared online.

URGENT HIRING. NO EXPERIENCE NEEDED. HIGH PAY. IMMEDIATE START.

We look forward to filling our vacancies.