Be careful what you wish for - original fic
Title: The Prize Inside
Genre: Original work (horror)
Rating: PG-13
Ever since he was a kid, he’d loved Snatas candy. They didn’t offer a huge range of candies, like some of the others, but what they did was primo. Their chocolate was the best, none of that waxy crap other companies pawned off on kids. It was rich and creamy, whether it was the milk or the dark chocolate.
Best of all were their chocolate balls. They were a luscious dark chocolate and they were best when frozen and then cracked open on a flat surface. Inside was a toy, not some cheap piece of Chinese plastic, but always something cool and play worthy. Morty had a huge collection.
Morty entered the office and made a face. While the reception area was clean, there was a hint of something in the air, like someone had just let one rip. On a large TV, his favorite commercial played. How he loved that jingle. It was that commercial that sent Morty into the world of candy making. He wanted to make delicious candy just like they did at Snatas!
He must have sent his resume to them a dozen times over, but they always responded with a polite ‘no thanks’ form letter. Morty ended up working at a competitors, but it wasn’t the same.
The receptionist looked like she was getting over a cold or something. Morty didn’t get too close. With her rheumy eyes and pallor complexion, he didn’t want to catch whatever she had.
“Hello, I have an appointment with Mr. Snatas.”
Wordless, she gestured to a door marked, No admittance and returned to staring, dead eyed, at the TV screen.
“Thank you.” Morty adjusted his suit jacket and stepped through THE door. Suddenly, he wasn’t on the other side. He was here. He had arrived.
He followed the hallway down to a door with a name on it. He tapped and entered when asked.
Mr. Snatas wasn’t what he expected. Morty had always pictured the man as someone akin to Santa, a large and rotund man smelling of chocolate and good will. In reality, Mr. Snatas looked just like everyone else.
“Yes, Mr.?”
“Morty. My name is Morty Mitciv.
“What an unusual name.”
“Yeah, you should have seen the one it actually came from. I’m always thankful to the folks on Ellis Island for shortening it.”
“What can I do for you, Mr...? Morty?”
“I have a complaint.”
“I hate to think you came all this way for that. We have a department for that.”
“I bought one of your deluxe chocolate balls.”
“Yes? Was there something wrong with the chocolate?”
“No, it was as delicious as always.”
“Did it not freeze properly?”
“Perfectly.”
“Then?”
“There was nothing inside. I bought another one and then a third. Likewise, none of them had anything inside.”
Mr. Snatas chuckled. “Well, we try to be perfect, but it happens.”
“What if I’d been an innocent child? What if this broke my spirit? Turned me away from your product for life?”
“You’re not a child.”
“No, but that was the luck of the draw.” He opened the briefcase he’d been carrying. “I have the designs for an assembly line that would guarantee 100% success.” Morty spread them out on the desk.
“That’s a pretty bold statement.” For his part, Mr. Snatas studied the drawings carefully. “Yes, I can see this…”
“I’ve loved your product for years. Let me build this for you. Let me oversee the line. I promise you won’t be unhappy. I’ll live here 24/7 if that’s what it takes.”
“But your family…?”
“What family? Candy is my family. Please! It’s all I’ve wanted since I was a boy.”
“Are you sure?” Mr. Snatas took stock of him. “Once you sign with us, you can’t disclose our secrets.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. And, yes, I am sure.”
“Very well.” Mr. Snatas turned him his chair. “I always keep a couple of these on hand, just for event like this.” He held out a brightly foiled ball to Morty.
Morty took it, hefting it, judging the mix of cocoa in the chocolate. “Thank you, sir. You won’t regret it.”
“I never do.” Morty started to unwrap it and Mr. Snatas held up a finger. “This is a special chocolate ball. The foil is edible. I haven’t quite gotten it right for mass release yet. Perhaps you could take a look at it… after the assembly line, of course.”
“I’d love to.” Morty took a bite. Usually, he just nibbled to make it last longer, but he had a feeling there were going to be a lot of eggs in his future. He took a big bite and chewed. The mouthful seemed to explode, and he swallowed hastily.
Something caught and he coughed, then he choked and wavered frantically at Mr. Snatas.
“It always goes wrong in the first bite,” Mr. Snatas murmured as he watched Morty drop to the floor.
It seemed like forever, but suddenly Morty could breathe again. He coughed and somehow managed to get to his feet. “What happened…?” he managed before he stopped and looked down upon his lifeless body.
He looked over at Mr. Snatas, who had morphed into something even less like a jolly candy maker. In fact, the man looked downright devilish. That’s when Morty caught sight of the familiar logo reflected by a glass… Not Snatas… satanS
“No…” He tried to stumble to the door, to race way, but the knob was red hot.
“Not so fast, Morty. “You made an agreement. You wanted to work here and here you will work, for the rest of your existence. “Welcome to Snatas, Morty. Welcome to Hell.”
Genre: Original work (horror)
Rating: PG-13
Ever since he was a kid, he’d loved Snatas candy. They didn’t offer a huge range of candies, like some of the others, but what they did was primo. Their chocolate was the best, none of that waxy crap other companies pawned off on kids. It was rich and creamy, whether it was the milk or the dark chocolate.
Best of all were their chocolate balls. They were a luscious dark chocolate and they were best when frozen and then cracked open on a flat surface. Inside was a toy, not some cheap piece of Chinese plastic, but always something cool and play worthy. Morty had a huge collection.
Morty entered the office and made a face. While the reception area was clean, there was a hint of something in the air, like someone had just let one rip. On a large TV, his favorite commercial played. How he loved that jingle. It was that commercial that sent Morty into the world of candy making. He wanted to make delicious candy just like they did at Snatas!
He must have sent his resume to them a dozen times over, but they always responded with a polite ‘no thanks’ form letter. Morty ended up working at a competitors, but it wasn’t the same.
The receptionist looked like she was getting over a cold or something. Morty didn’t get too close. With her rheumy eyes and pallor complexion, he didn’t want to catch whatever she had.
“Hello, I have an appointment with Mr. Snatas.”
Wordless, she gestured to a door marked, No admittance and returned to staring, dead eyed, at the TV screen.
“Thank you.” Morty adjusted his suit jacket and stepped through THE door. Suddenly, he wasn’t on the other side. He was here. He had arrived.
He followed the hallway down to a door with a name on it. He tapped and entered when asked.
Mr. Snatas wasn’t what he expected. Morty had always pictured the man as someone akin to Santa, a large and rotund man smelling of chocolate and good will. In reality, Mr. Snatas looked just like everyone else.
“Yes, Mr.?”
“Morty. My name is Morty Mitciv.
“What an unusual name.”
“Yeah, you should have seen the one it actually came from. I’m always thankful to the folks on Ellis Island for shortening it.”
“What can I do for you, Mr...? Morty?”
“I have a complaint.”
“I hate to think you came all this way for that. We have a department for that.”
“I bought one of your deluxe chocolate balls.”
“Yes? Was there something wrong with the chocolate?”
“No, it was as delicious as always.”
“Did it not freeze properly?”
“Perfectly.”
“Then?”
“There was nothing inside. I bought another one and then a third. Likewise, none of them had anything inside.”
Mr. Snatas chuckled. “Well, we try to be perfect, but it happens.”
“What if I’d been an innocent child? What if this broke my spirit? Turned me away from your product for life?”
“You’re not a child.”
“No, but that was the luck of the draw.” He opened the briefcase he’d been carrying. “I have the designs for an assembly line that would guarantee 100% success.” Morty spread them out on the desk.
“That’s a pretty bold statement.” For his part, Mr. Snatas studied the drawings carefully. “Yes, I can see this…”
“I’ve loved your product for years. Let me build this for you. Let me oversee the line. I promise you won’t be unhappy. I’ll live here 24/7 if that’s what it takes.”
“But your family…?”
“What family? Candy is my family. Please! It’s all I’ve wanted since I was a boy.”
“Are you sure?” Mr. Snatas took stock of him. “Once you sign with us, you can’t disclose our secrets.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. And, yes, I am sure.”
“Very well.” Mr. Snatas turned him his chair. “I always keep a couple of these on hand, just for event like this.” He held out a brightly foiled ball to Morty.
Morty took it, hefting it, judging the mix of cocoa in the chocolate. “Thank you, sir. You won’t regret it.”
“I never do.” Morty started to unwrap it and Mr. Snatas held up a finger. “This is a special chocolate ball. The foil is edible. I haven’t quite gotten it right for mass release yet. Perhaps you could take a look at it… after the assembly line, of course.”
“I’d love to.” Morty took a bite. Usually, he just nibbled to make it last longer, but he had a feeling there were going to be a lot of eggs in his future. He took a big bite and chewed. The mouthful seemed to explode, and he swallowed hastily.
Something caught and he coughed, then he choked and wavered frantically at Mr. Snatas.
“It always goes wrong in the first bite,” Mr. Snatas murmured as he watched Morty drop to the floor.
It seemed like forever, but suddenly Morty could breathe again. He coughed and somehow managed to get to his feet. “What happened…?” he managed before he stopped and looked down upon his lifeless body.
He looked over at Mr. Snatas, who had morphed into something even less like a jolly candy maker. In fact, the man looked downright devilish. That’s when Morty caught sight of the familiar logo reflected by a glass… Not Snatas… satanS
“No…” He tried to stumble to the door, to race way, but the knob was red hot.
“Not so fast, Morty. “You made an agreement. You wanted to work here and here you will work, for the rest of your existence. “Welcome to Snatas, Morty. Welcome to Hell.”