Almighty Elvis Mark

Chapter 9

For the next few minutes, Silas and Elvis were struggling on who was going to retain the documents. Thinking it was the same Elvis from high school he molested each day, Silas didn't giun until Elvis pushed him aside then he fell on the floor with a thud.

Smirking, he rose, dusting his butt with his gaze fixed on him.

"I didn't mean to push you that hard. You would have just stopped when I asked you to." Elvis scowled. People were loitering about but no one gave them any attention.

"Get into the elevator." Silas snapped.

"Why? I'm already on my way out." He replied, trying to brush past him but Silas grabbed his arm then pulled him into the elevator.

Still wearing his evil smirk, he grabbed Elvis by the cuff of his shirt. Gritting his teeth in anger, he yelled, "What has come over you?"

"I already told you. I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean to hurt you." He mumbled, gasping for breath.

Instead of letting him go, Silas tightened his grip on the cuff watching Elvis eyes water as he gasped for breath. Even when the elevator door opened, he pressed the button for the ground floor so he would continue his assault.

Again, when they got to the ground floor, he pressed the button for the fifth floor where his office was located. He continued this act for a long time.

Weakened, Elvis had no choice but to apologize, "I'm sorry, please spare me just this once." He managed to say, only then did Silas release him.

"I was thinking you've grown and have forgotten the magic words." Silas chuckled, arranging the creases on his clothes.

"I'm sorry, I won't try to get in your way again."

"As it should be."

When the elevator got to the fifth floor, Silas walked out. At first Elvis wanted to return to the ground floor but on a second thought, he walked out, treading cautiously behind him.

Unfortunately for him, he bumped into a janitor holding a dustpan containing dirt. Since the janitor was between him and Silas, the dust flew and some particles landed on Silas.

"What the hell?" Silas yelled, swerving in the janitor's direction.

"Sir, it wasn't me. He was the one who bumped into me." He said quickly to avoid his wrath.

Everyone on the fifth floor knew Silas Deane, the head of the accounting department. Since he was the head, having over thirty staff under him, he was intimidating and brutal in his operations.

His personal assistant who was supposed to be the closest to him was even distant. No one wanted to offend him so they wouldn't face his wrath. In fact, he was likened to be a mini god in the accounting department.

"What are you doing here?" He yelled at Elvis who was still gripping the documents.

"I'm sorry. I wanted to apologize that's…" he filtered off when Silas kicked his tummy with all his might.

"Lick the dust." He yelled.

"The dust? I can pack them…" the janitor quickly swallowed the rest of his words then ran off.

"The dust… I can't…" Silas sent his words back into his mouth, kicking his tummy for the second time. This time around, Elvis coughed out blood.

"Lick off your blood and the dust." He commanded.

Fortunately for Elvis, Silas phone began to buzz in his pocket and after speaking with the person on the other end, he tucked his phone back into his pocket.

"You are lucky." He said then strode off. It wasn't up to a minute after he left that the janitor who was lurking around scrambled to his side.

"I'm sorry mister. Let me take you to the sick bay before he returns." He said, trying to pull Elvis up.

"Thank you. I can handle myself." Elvis mumbled, grabbing the wall for support.

"I will clean up, I'm sorry."

"Uhm…"

Clutching his stomach, Elvis made his way to the elevator. Instead of going to the ground floor, he pressed the button for the eighth floor where his office was located.

Ms. Precious who was working on the laptop right in front of her quickly raised her face when the door flung open and Elvis stumbled in.

"What the hell happened to you?" She yelled, rushing to his side.

"Nothing. I'm fine." He mumbled.

"You can't be fine when you look like a bloody mess." She snapped trying to help him sit but he refused. Instead, he dashed into the bathroom to puke.

When he was done, he cleaned up then returned to the office only to meet a doctor standing behind Ms. Precious.

"What is he doing here?" He asked with a tone laced with surprise.

"I had to call him in for a quick check up. Please sit and let him examine you." She coaxed.

"I don't need a doctor. I already told you that I'm fine." He scowled. After much pleading from her, he finally agreed to let the doctor examine him.

It was then Ms. Precious saw his reddened neck. With her hands around her mouth, she moved backwards in fright.

"What happened to your neck?" She asked moments later.

"Nothing." He scowled, pulling his shirt to cover the bruises.

"Doc, is he alright?" She asked shifting her gaze to the doctor.

"He is, save for the bruises, he is perfectly okay."

"Thank goodness." She said in relief.

"I will be on my way now."

"Yeah. Thank you."

Immediately the doctor closed the door, she rushed to his side then grabbed his hand. "Tell me, what the hell happened?" She asked.

"Will you stop bothering me? I already told you nothing happened." He scowled.

"Then why all the bruises. If your father shows up and sees you like this, I would be blamed for being unable to look after you."

"As if…" he scoffed. "Look here, I'm a grown man and I can handle myself."

"I know, but…"

"But nothing. I'm out." He snapped as he grabbed the documents he had placed on the table earlier.

Just as he was about to turn the knob of the door, he turned around and with his gaze fixed on Ms. Precious, he asked, "Who is Silas Deane?"

"He is the head of the accounting department." She replied swiftly.

"Prepare a sack letter and hand it over to him in the next twenty minutes."

"Sack letter? He is one of our best accountants." She protested, wondering why he suddenly wanted to sack him.

"Who is the second best?" He asked, ignoring her hot gaze.

"Rashford Moore." She replied.

"Good. Make him the head of the department. I need you to process these letters in the next twenty minutes." He said. "No questions." He added, placing his finger across his lips.

"Yes sir."

While Ms. Precious worked, Elvis skimmed through the documents and at intervals, he would glance at his wrist watch.

He had asked her to process the letters in his presence so she wouldn't be able to revoke it and also, he gave the twenty minutes ultimatum because it was twenty minutes left before visiting time.

"I have done as you said. You just need to stamp your signature here." Ms. Precious said. She was holding out two envelopes and stamps.

"You're really diligent. You were able to pull off the task within ten minutes."

"Thank you sir." She replied with a curt bow.

"Now, take it to the accounting department. I will be gone before you return."

"I will."

After replacing the stamp on the holder, she began to make her way towards the door.

When she got to the accounting department, she met Silas harassing Rashford. From what she heard from other accountants she had made enquiries from, they said Rashford had turned in his report a second late.

"Mr. Silas, cut it." She said with an angry tone. It was then Silas realized he had a visitor.

At that instant, he sent a glare to the accountants around. He was going to deal with them after attending to her.

"The president asked me to hand over this letter to you. And Mr. Rashford, this is for you." She said.

With her mission accomplished, she scurried out of the floor before Silas would start chasing after her.

Smirking, Silas tore open the envelope. Deep down, he was thinking it was a promotion letter since he had applied for one a few weeks ago.

"Finally, I won't be here to see your annoying faces anymore." He scoffed.

Rashford on the other hand, went to his corner to read his letter quietly with a little crowd behind him.

Congratulations — the noise rented the air as the accountants shook hands with Rashford in congratulations.

While the mini celebration was ongoing, Silas let out a yell of frustration and at once all eyes were fixed on him.

"How dare that lunatic?" He yelled, balling his fists into a ball.

"Sir…" his personal assistant tried to speak to him but he threw the keeter on his face then stormed off.