Historias cortas de Plot Twists y novelas con Freak ambientadas en Workplace

Right after I am done with a meeting, I scroll through social media and come across a warning post with my company's location tagged. The title reads, "Avoid this place! Anyone who comes here is a sucker. The company is so stingy that it can't even provide decent snacks." The photos show the Starbucks drinks and five-star desserts I just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frown and tag everyone in the group chat, asking for suggestions about the teatime snacks. A Gen Z intern, Alice Grimes, immediately sends a voice message, "No offense, Ms. Knox, but these mass-produced desserts are full of trans fats. Even dogs wouldn't eat them. A good company would hire Kitchelin chefs to cook on-site. Now that's called having true respect for employees." I laugh in disbelief. My company spends 50 dollars per person on daily tea time, which is considered top-tier in the industry. So, I reply, "Since it's hard to please everyone, we'll cancel teatime from now on and convert it into a cash allowance for everyone." Less than five minutes later, there is a new update in the social media post. "Guys, you won't believe this. I made a reasonable suggestion, and the petty boss just cut our teatime perk! This is how a typical capitalist behaves. They can't handle any honest feedback."

My superior loved tricking me into wearing tight-fitting pencil skirts to serve wine to sleazy clients while sticking close to them. Then, she would hint that I was single and a valid target while she excitedly waited for the clients to make a move on me. It was all in the name of checking the integrity of the clients and whether they were worthy business partners or not. The moment a client fell for it, she would rush over with righteous anger and throw wine in their faces. Then, she would lecture me with a voice heavy with anguish. “Do you lack money so much that you’d throw your dignity away just for better results?” She would trample all over my dignity to set up her image as a refined, noble woman. This time, she even prepared a gown with a super low neckline and pushed me to serve a client with a rich and powerful background. She threatened me by saying that if I did not go, she would deduct my bonus for three whole months of full attendance. But when I saw the familiar, cold man sitting in the seat of honor, it was my turn to laugh. If my brother saw me serving wine in this kind of dress, I did not doubt that by tomorrow, the company would be under my name.

To celebrate Halloween, our company booked an immersive “rural horror” escape room. My boss said whoever could make it to the end without screaming would get a ten-thousand-dollar reward. As a seasoned horror movie fan, I was instantly tempted. The core character in the escape room was a scarecrow wearing an oversized pumpkin head. I admired how well the props were made, but the chainsaw noise was too loud, so I slipped into a hidden compartment, put on my headphones, and scrolled through reels. The next day, I woke up to a strong metallic stench mixed with the sickly-sweet smell of rotting pumpkin. The police told me our boss had canceled the booking at the last minute, and the actor originally assigned to play the character had gotten food poisoning. That pumpkin-headed figure wasn’t one of their staff.

A king crab in the company's storage is about to die. In order to prevent the company from suffering a loss, I decided to buy it at the price of 480 dollars and treat my friends to a nice feast. The next day, my boss, Mitchell Wright, calls me to his office. "Ms. Langford, it's true that the net price of a king crab is 480 dollars. But the company has a rule that states that if an employee buys the company's products, they still have to pay according to the selling price." While I'm quite displeased, I still transfer an additional 400 dollars to the company's bank account. But Mitchell raises his voice at me. "Stop being a smartass! The selling price of a king crab is 88 thousand dollars, not 880 dollars!" I do my best to refute. "But we give all of our customers a 99% discount! Surely you can't force me to spend 88 thousand dollars on a crab!" Mitchell just chuckles icily in return. "Rules are rules! While customers are always right, you're nothing but a corporate slave! What makes you think you deserve to receive the same treatment as the customers? "If you refuse to pay the selling price for the crab, then don't blame me for being ruthless!" As I watch Mitchell, who keeps yelling at me with spittle flying everywhere, I find myself filled with an eerie sense of calm. I hope that Mitchell will still be able to chuckle when he finds out that my dad is the biggest seafood supplier.

I ran into my boss when I was complaining to my best friend about how he actively made the workplace hostile for me. He fired off a barrage of questions, "Where's the annual report? Where's the script for the speech? I can't believe you have the gall to enjoy a meal when you have a mountain of work to do!" That was it. I slammed the table. "It's due tomorrow! What's the rush? Are you going to hold a funeral for yourself tomorrow?" My boss stormed off in a huff. I asked for the bill, but the waiter came with two. My table came up to 60 dollars, but the other ran up to 3,750. "Your boyfriend said you're paying for both. Cash or credit, miss?" Shawn Goodall put that impossible bill on my tab and called himself my boyfriend? Unbelievable! I called him, utterly incensed. Yet, he had the gall to say, "Get the receipt and claim it from finance." Then, he hung up. The waiter was going to call the cops if I didn't pay up, so I had no choice but to accept this bitter defeat. I was trying to claim the money the next day, but the cops arrested me instead. "Shawn Goodall died at midnight and was found in his house. You're his girlfriend and the last person he met. You're coming with us."

I’d just left a creative meeting when a TikTok video popped up on my feed, slamming my company. The title: "Stay Away! This Austin startup is incredibly cheap. The perks are a joke." The video showed off the pour-over coffee from Austin's hottest independent cafe and pastries from a top-tier French bakery. The same ones I’d just had my assistant, Sam, hand out. I frowned. In the company's Slack channel, I tagged everyone. "@here Any suggestions for this afternoon's Happy Hour?" Leo, the new Gen-Z intern, replied instantly with a voice note. “Asher, with all due respect, these snacks with gluten and dairy are so unhealthy.” “A truly visionary company would hire a private chef to customize raw, vegan bites for everyone's dietary needs. That's what respect looks like.” I laughed. It was an angry laugh. The company's daily snack budget was $25 per person. For an Austin startup, that was top of the line. I typed back: "Since it's impossible to please everyone, the snack perk is canceled. I'll convert the budget into a cash bonus for all of you." Less than five minutes later, the TikTok caption was updated. "UPDATE: Y'all, I can't make this up. I made a suggestion about dietary inclusivity, and my toxic boss just canceled all the perks! This is how toxic bosses act. Can't handle a single piece of feedback!"

At the company's annual gala, the CEO announced that this year's top sales performer would receive a two-million-dollar year-end bonus. I was the top performer. However, my manager called me into his office the very next day and explained that the company was cutting costs and improving efficiency. As a result, my bonus had to be reduced. I initially assumed everyone's bonus was being cut. Then, I found out I was the only one getting shortchanged. Even worse, they handed my position to a useless coworker who could barely do the job. I understood everything immediately. 'So this is how it is. You're tossing me aside after you got what you wanted from me.' Fine. I stopped putting in any effort from that day forward. I clocked in, did the bare minimum, and watched the company slowly fall apart. Sales began to drop month after month. Even the major clients I had already secured began withdrawing their investments. That was when the CEO finally panicked. He showed up at my front door, begging me to fix things. I kicked the door open and looked down at him. "You think a garbage company like yours deserves my help?"

I've founded a company that doesn't encourage overtime shifts, pays everyone on time, and doesn't impose performance evaluations on the employees at all. My employees are free to bring their pets to work. All of their applications for leave will be approved immediately. Heck, they have unlimited leave as well. I originally think that my employees will like me a lot thanks to these benefits. But I never expect my company to be featured on the Internet one day. It even gets labeled as a sweatshop, much to my shock. "Guys, I can't believe I got hired by a sweatshop company. The boss is extremely stingy who pays us low wages while pretending to be a nice guy this whole time!" My company is then shown in the video. The narrator's voice has been edited, so I can't tell whose voice it is. As I stare at the tranquil office scene in real-time, I find myself falling into deep thought. Meanwhile, the video is still going on. "Let me tell you how evil my boss is. Every other company tends to distribute gifts during the holidays that like food and luxury items. But my boss doesn't bother giving us any of the gifts. He uses the excuse that our company is a very flexible and humane company, so we don't do any gift-giving at all. As if! "He also claims that we don't have to undergo any performance evaluation. In other words, that means our wages aren't transparent at all. Maybe he's been secretly docking our pay behind our backs this whole time! "Being paid thousands of dollars for this job is already bad enough! To make things worse, I'm forced to listen to my boss boast about everything in the world! Do I look like I have that much time on my hands to listen to him blabber? I'm not his mom, for crying out loud!" Everyone in the comment section doesn't hesitate to lash out at me. "Holy shit, I can't believe such soul-sucking companies still exist! Poor you!" "Why are you still staying in that stupid company? Hurry up and leave! If I were you, I wouldn't be able to stay there for a minute longer!" "That's right! That boss of yours is an evil capitalist! He deserves to die!"

I was always sleepy when I was working. If I were working an eight-hour shift, I would sleep the entire shift away. Initially, I thought that I was too tired. My boss only fined me because I was the top sales performer. It was not until I got caught dozing off for the 38th time last month that I realized something was wrong. I scheduled a medical appointment. However, on the way to the hospital, I died from a car accident. When I opened my eyes again, I realized I had returned to the day the new male colleague first joined us. In the past, I had also started to suffer from lethargy on the same day. I suspected he had something to do with my symptoms. Hence, I started to stalk him in secret. As expected, during lunch time, I caught him and my girlfriend conspiring against me. “Once I plant this sleepy bug on Nick, you can transfer your sleepiness to him.” Justin Smith wrapped his arm around my girlfriend Heather Reid’s waist. He said in a fawning tone, “Heather, you’re the best. Once Nick gets fired for oversleeping, I can take his position!” I sneered when I saw them acting intimately. They did not know that I had returned to the past!

After my beautiful boss, Violet York, starts a new relationship, I somehow end up becoming the other man. Her brand-new boyfriend, Cody Moore, shows up in a sweatshirt and a trendy layered haircut. He kneels in front of me and cries, "You're Vi's secretary, right? Please give her back to me. We're the ones who are destined for each other." I jump back in shock. Yes, I am Violet's secretary. But more importantly, I'm a national award-winning top scholar with both looks and brains. I have the company's core tech in my hands! And most importantly of all, there is absolutely nothing going on between Violet and me. I can swear with my life!

At the company's gathering, everyone has the right to order for themselves. When it's my turn, however, the new intern, Hayden Belmont, snatches the menu from me. "The order's complete, so there's no need to order anything else." I merely ignore Hayden as I tell the server, "I'd like some continental herb-baked snails, please." But Hayden slams the menu at my face while glaring at me angrily. "I said you're not allowed to order! Who do you think you are, huh?" The hard edge of the menu leaves a scratch on my face. Blazing pain is all I feel at the moment, which fuels my temper even more. So, I pick up the menu and throw it back at Hayden's face. He's quick to shriek and yell at me in fury. "Do you have any idea who I am? My mom is Natasha Belmont, the biggest client of this company! Even the CEO has to show some respect to me, and yet you have the nerve to lay a finger on me? "I'll have your 800-thousand-dollar bonus canceled right away! Soon, the entire industry will blacklist you!" I'm stunned, to say the least. My biological aunt, Natasha Belmont, has been single for 40 years. Since when does she have a grown-up son?

I'm the type who has a ton of allergies. That's why my family has specifically hired a nutritionist to help prepare and monitor my meals while paying her a salary of 7,500 dollars per month. During my lunch break, the new intern, Julia Hall, suddenly tells me, "Emma, the food that you bring to work looks very healthy! You can prepare another portion for me from now on! "It so happens that I'm on a diet as well. Think of it as me going down the journey of dieting with you. I'll pay you five dollars per meal. You can earn quite a lot of money from this side gig, you know?" I'm flabbergasted when I hear Julia's words. The ingredients meant for my meals are specifically flown in using private jets. Not to mention, my family pays the nutritionist a lucrative salary. Five dollars can't even cover the transportation fees needed for my meals! I shake my head and turn Julia down on the spot. I refuse to give her a chance to use any plot holes against me. But the next day at noon, I've just left my desk to refill my water bottle. When I return, I realize that Julia has already taken my lunchbox away and has shared the food with the other colleagues while chatting animatedly with them. My lips curl into a cold smirk. Since Julia insists on taking advantage of me, then I might as well teach her a lesson she will never forget.

It's my fifth year working at my relative's factory after giving up a high-paying job. I'm in the middle of helping the administrative staff clear out the printer when I accidentally catch a glimpse of the new clerk's payslip—Base Salary: 6,500 dollars. I freeze right on the spot. Five years ago, I've turned down two high-paying offers and joined Dad's younger brother, Liam Graham's, factory. Back then, he patted me on the shoulder and said, "We're family. I'll never shortchange you." I believe him. However, it's been five years, and my salary is still the same five grand I started with. Every single time I ask for a raise, Uncle Liam cries poverty, claiming that the factory isn't doing well. My girlfriend breaks up with me, saying my salary makes it impossible for her to see a future. I pull the weight of three people and pour my heart into training the newcomers, only to find out a new hire is making 1,500 dollars more than me. I jeer out of sheer exasperation and hand in my resignation to Uncle Liam. "Why?" he asks in shock. "The pay is terrible. There's no career progression. I can't do this anymore!"

I'm a Gen Z rookie at work. When my boss is being poured a drink, I intercept the bottle. When he gives a speech, I strike up a chat. He opens the car door, and I hop right in. I don't do overtime, and I never take the fall. My manager wants to steal my credit and pocket my bonuses? Hilarious. The company belongs to my family. Your boss is my dad!

After I left prison, my best friend and I opened an auto repair shop together. He provided the money, while I brought the skills. We agreed from the start to split the profits seventy-thirty. Thanks to my talent for performance tuning and custom car builds, our shop quickly became the talk of the local wealthy car‑enthusiast scene. In our first year alone, we cleared a net profit of eight million. When I went to collect my share at the end of the year, my so‑called brother handed me a check for only one hundred thousand. “The business is doing well because I became friends with those rich kids,” he said with a dismissive laugh. “Anyone can modify cars. Do not tell me you actually think you are someone special.” He looked at me with open contempt. “Most repair shops pay their mechanics six grand a month at best. I am giving you ten. You should be grateful.” I stood there in stunned silence, and anger rose in my chest. I had trusted him like family, only to discover that my loyalty had been repaid with lies and betrayal. I quit on the spot without another word. I rented the workshop across the street and opened a repair shop of my own. Six months later, he showed up at my door with all his arrogance gone. “If you come back,” he pleaded, “I will pay you five hundred thousand a year. That should be enough to keep you with me this time… right?”

I walked into the Marxell Motors showroom with my girlfriend, Fleur Harper, and got straight to the point: I wanted to look at the SX. The salesman, Lenny Sloan, gave me a once-over, then acted like he hadn't heard a word. He pulled Fleur aside instead, all smiles. "You've got a great eye," he told her. "People are lining up just to put a deposit down on this one." I trailed along and cut in, frowning. "Can I take it for a test drive?" He didn't even look up. "This one's sixty-eight grand out the door. You sure you want to try it?" "I'm sure." He sighed like he was doing me a favor, then walked me around the car, dripping condescension the whole way. "A car to keep up appearances, sure, that's fine. Just don't get too full of yourself. It's seven hundred a month on the financing. You sure you can keep that up?" I kept my face flat and didn't answer. He leaned in and dropped his voice. "Real talk, man, what do you even do for work? Fresh out of school and already buying a luxury car?" I fired back with a question about the trim specs. He waved me off. "Not bad, you actually did your homework. But I already sent the details to your girl. Go hash it out with her." I swallowed my anger, finished negotiating the price, and put down the deposit. A week later, Fleur got a message: the dealership wanted her to come pick up the car. I called the dealership to ask what was going on. The man on the other end didn't bother hiding his contempt. "That deposit—who knows whose money that really was. You're wearing five-dollar canvas sneakers. No way you can afford an SX. Whoever's footing the bill gets the call to come pick it up. Problem?" No problem at all. After all, I was just a mystery shopper sent from corporate.

I'm scheduled to work overtime for all five days of the long Thanksgiving holiday weekend. However, I decide to just put up with it because I remember that I have a 200,000-dollar year-end bonus at stake. On the first day of overtime, the HR manager, Karen Beech, deducts 200 dollars from my pay, citing "lack of attention to personal image and affecting the company's overall reputation" as the reason. I look at my neatly pressed dress shirt and slacks and frown. "I've strictly followed the company's rules regarding my appearance. What's the problem?" Without saying another word, Karen grabs a cup of hot coffee and splashes it all over me. "Well, you've got a problem now." That day, an official message is pinned on the company's Slack channel. "Alex Sutherland violated our company's policy, affecting the company's overall reputation. Thus, he's fined 200 dollars." Nobody speaks up for me in the channel. That's because the newly appointed General Manager, Remy Lincoln, says that he wants to reduce costs and increase the company's efficiency, which would mean random layoffs. As a result, the entire office has been thrown into a state of panic, and everyone is looking out for themselves. As for me, I am the highest-paid employee in the company with a monthly salary of 10,000 dollars. On the second day of overtime, someone locks my front door from the outside, making me almost a minute late for work. When I reach the company, Karen writes me up for being tardy and fires me on the spot. I look at another sales associate behind her, Sandra Leach, who is pretending to be busy with work to avoid my gaze. She is the only person in the entire company who has ever been invited to my home. I refuse to leave without a fight and request to see the company chairman, Mr. Richard Lincoln. However, Karen scoffs disdainfully at me and says, "Don't think that you have any influence on the company's decisions just because you're a sales manager. "Mr. Remy Lincoln is Mr. Lincoln Senior's only son, which means his will is also the chairman's." She then glances at my chest and adds, "Did you seriously think that a woman with zero assets like you could even attempt to seduce the chairman into changing his mind? In your dreams!" I'm at a complete loss for words. For starters, I am a man, and Karen has to be completely blind not to notice that. And secondly, if Remy really were my dad's only son, then who am I supposed to be?

I'm a man of principle who doesn't curse someone else without good reason. Even if I do curse them, the curse is only active for three days. In elementary school, my seatmate steals my eraser. When I flippantly tell him that he'll slip and fall in the next three days, he falls into a cesspool on the third day. The class representative accuses me of cheating during an exam during middle school. When I say that the entire school will learn something humiliating about him in the next three days, his love letter to another female student is pasted on the notice board. A bully kicks my desk during high school. When I tell him that his family will fall to ruins in the next three days, his father is arrested for embezzlement on the third day. When my boss, Frank Gordon, refuses to pay me after forcing me to work overtime, I calmly say, "You'll become bankrupt in the next three days." Frank scoffs indignantly before he grabs my resignation letter and tears it to pieces. "Get out of my sight! Either you continue working, or you can kiss your salary for this month goodbye!" He scatters the shredded paper over my head and continues, "I'm curious to see what will happen in the next three days. Will my company fall? Or will you starve to death first?" I lick my lips and say, "You must pay me within the next three days, Mr. Gordon—" However, Frank kicks me out of his office before I can finish my sentence.

The company janitor suffers a heart attack, and I race toward the elevator with him on my back. But the new COO, Alexis Brown, refuses to let us in with the excuse that we're dirty and smelly. I beg her, but she just scoffs and has security pin me to the floor. Then she takes the elevator down and deliberately presses every floor button to delay us. The janitor misses the critical window for treatment and dies on my back. The next day, Alexis calls a company meeting and shifts the blame on me. She tries to fire me for causing a disturbance at work and even demands compensation for her emotional distress. I look at her coldly before putting the security footage up on the big screen. Then, I say, "Ms. Brown, you left your own father to die. He sacrificed everything to put you through college. How are you going to pay for that?"

It was my first day taking over the branch office, and to get an honest read on the place before anyone put on a show for me, I'd left my assistant behind. In the elevator, I noticed a female coworker struggling with an armload of supply boxes, unable to free a hand. I reached over and pressed her floor for her. I hadn't even pulled my arm back when the man beside her smacked my hand away. "Where do you think you're putting your hands? Just because she's a woman, you figure you can lean in on her?" The woman flinched, and she lowered her voice, pleading, "Honey, are you out of your mind? He was just helping me." The man shot her a vicious glare and grabbed my collar. "Helping you? Sweet-talking my wife right in front of me. God knows what you get up to behind my back." I frowned and tried to reason with him. "Sir, I'd appreciate a little respect. I'm new here, and..." "New, huh?" He cut me off with a sneer. "First day on the job and you've already got the nerve to seduce my wife? You think I'm stupid?" The elevator reached our floor, and I had no interest in dragging this out any further. I turned to leave. He must have mistaken it for guilt, because he seized my collar again and roared, "Trying to run after you started something? Guys like you, sponging off women to get ahead, don't belong in this company. You're fired, effective immediately."