Want to support CHYOA?
Disable your Ad Blocker! Thanks :)

Chapter 4

What's next?

A Total Mess

Mrs. Evelyn Jacobs adjusted her large, round glasses and glanced around her small, tidy office, positioned just outside her boss’s door. Archer & Pierce Consulting was a modest company, with twelve employees tucked away in a quiet suburban building. The office had neutral-toned walls, a row of file cabinets, and a single, modest window that framed a peaceful view of the neighborhood beyond. Instead of city skyscrapers, she could see a patchwork of backyard gardens, clusters of leafy trees, and quiet stretches of green lawns. It was a view that brought a sense of calm to her day, a subtle contrast to the flurry of tasks she handled.

Today, Evelyn wore a simple yet elegant one-piece dress in a soft shade of blue. The dress was knee-length, with a fitted waist and short sleeves that gave it a classic, polished look. Paired with black, low-heeled pumps, the outfit made her feel both professional and poised. Her straight, light brown hair fell just below her shoulders, adding to her natural, understated charm.

Evelyn was eager to leave a lasting impression on her boss, Mr. Archer, a respected figure in the company. She put all her efforts into her work, always ready with a bright smile and a willingness to learn.

Her typing was interrupted as Mr. Archer appeared in the doorway of Evelyn's office, a stack of papers in his hands and a sense of urgency in his stride. He was a tall, sharp-dressed man in his forties, with a watchful gaze and a no-nonsense attitude that kept everyone on their toes. He cleared his throat, catching Evelyn's attention as she looked up from her desk.

"Evelyn, I need these photocopied right away," he said, holding out the papers. "Our client is on their way, and I want this report ready for them as soon as they arrive."

"Of course, Mr. Archer!" Evelyn replied, taking the papers carefully. Her heart skipped a beat; she knew how much Mr. Archer valued efficiency, and this was a perfect chance to prove her reliability. She rose quickly, smoothing down her dress, and darted toward the copier just down the hall. The machine whirred to life as she loaded the document, her fingers moving briskly over the buttons.

The machine hummed along, and a sense of accomplishment was already blossoming in her as the first few pages slid into the tray. But as the next sheet printed, her heart sank—the words were faint and smudged, the images barely visible. The copier was running out of toner. Ordinarily, the office had a technical service to handle these kinds of issues, but with Mr. Archer’s client due any moment, Evelyn didn’t want to risk the delay. She straightened her shoulders, determined to fix it herself.

Evelyn opened the copier’s side panel, carefully locating the toner cartridge. She’d seen it replaced before, so she figured it couldn’t be too complicated. Gripping the cartridge, she gave it a firm pull. But instead of coming out smoothly, it jolted free with a surprising pop—and in an instant, sticky black powder burst from the cartridge.

Evelyn gasped, staring in dismay at the dark powder covering her dress. Her heart raced as she looked around, spotting her faint reflection in the office’s glass door: her light blue dress was now speckled with inky stains. She desperately tried to brush the powder off, but it only smudged further, spreading across her sleeves. Taking a shaky breath, she looked down at the half-toner-splotched pages. The copies were a disaster, and her appearance was even worse.

Panic surged through Evelyn as she stared at the black toner smudges spreading across her dress. She’d heard somewhere—maybe from a friend or an article—that toner powder could be toxic. Her mind raced through all the worst-case scenarios. She imagined herself inhaling it, or the powder somehow seeping through her skin, and she could feel her heart pounding faster.

Without a second thought, she frantically unzipped her dress, tugging it off over her head. She tossed it onto the office floor, staring down in disbelief at the inky mess on the fabric.

Breathless and now standing in her slip and bra, Evelyn took a moment to collect herself. She looked around, half-expecting to see someone, but the hallway was empty. She glanced back down at the half-toned pages in the copier tray, feeling a flush of embarrassment.

What's next?

Want to support CHYOA?
Disable your Ad Blocker! Thanks :)