Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies. All other characters belong to their respective creators.

Chapter 05. Tales of the Supply Room

Skittery pushed through the glass doors with his shoulder. The change in atmosphere upon crossing over the threshold was immediate with its familiar hum of machines. There were a few early bird designers to his right, hard at work, composing book design drafts, assisting with Marketing and PR materials, and editing other surely tedious tasks. He crossed to the other side and glanced to his left—three out of four of the workstations belonging to the Web Team were empty. He knew where the owners of the three empty desks were—Jack, Race, and Swifty were still stuck downstairs, each thinking up schemes to pocket the prepared refreshments and food from the conference taking place later today; Skittery himself had arrived early before the conference attendees and had already taken his picks.

The only person actually working in Web was Pegasus who, as usual, was donning a wool cable scarf and gloves despite the summer season. To an office foreigner, she would undoubtedly appear ridiculous. To the seasoned office veterans, however, she looked pitiful, for Peg had the misfortune of sitting directly under a busted ceiling vent; a few shutters had to be missing up there. With the temperatures outside rising each day, the force of the air conditioning followed suit and the current blasted down on Peg's desk.

"Morning," he said with a slight wave.

"Mmm-mm," came her singsong answer, muffled by the scarf covering the lower half of her face.

He went round to his desk but stopped short, taking another curious glance at the girl - clearly, survival, not appearances, was first on her agenda. With the scarf wrapped thickly around her shoulders, neck and face, and her bangs covering her forehead, the only features he could discern were her eyes, which themselves were behind a pair of thick, square-framed glasses. He backtracked to her desk and leaned his elbows on the cubicle. "What was it this time?" he asked dryly.

"Mmm—?" She removed the scarf from her face to clarify. "—what?"

He indicated the glasses. "You only wear those when you haven't slept."

She sighed regretfully. Her eyes tended to puff and redden when she got less than three hours of sleep and, not wanting to frighten her co-workers with her zombie impression, she attempted to conceal them behind bulky and unfortunately rather geeky glasses. "There was a Dirty Jobs marathon last night," she confessed finally.

"You're in love with Mike Rowe, huh?" he said, referring to the host of the television show.

"He's such a dreamboat!" Peg exclaimed ecstatically with a beaming smile and clasped hands. The smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared as she pulled back on the enthusiasm, embarrassed by her outburst. "I mean, he's… he's all right," she tried to remedy awkwardly. "If you like that sort of… tall, and handsome and rugged type."

He snickered. "Dork."

She responded with a childlike frown. "This coming from the person who watches The Elegant Universe during his lunch breaks." She said pointedly with a complacent look, "Nerd."

"You're both nerdy dorks, now can you please keep it down?" Swifty requested, poking his head above the partition separating his and Peg's workstations. Both Skittery and Pegasus quirked their brows high in surprise; neither had noticed his arrival. "Stacy can barely hear herself think."

Skittery looked like he was fighting to hold back a rude retort, ultimately exhaling in annoyance. Upon hearing "Stacy," Peg's eyes widened in alarm and she hurriedly went searching for her earphones, rummaging through all her desk drawers. At Peg's obvious state of dread, Swifty asked, "What's up with you?"

"Mm-mm mm-mmmb." The scarf was back over her face.

"What?"

She pulled the scarf down. "You know what's up," she repeated.

"No, what?" His attention was pulled back to his girlfriend. "No way, Stacy! I wasn't flirting with a girl. No, it's just Peg. Peg. She's… she's not really a girl…"

Pegasus sent him a bewildered stare. And then it started. Before Peg could effectively block her ears with her earphones and music, Swifty began his awful habit of cooing loving words into his cell phone. Peg scrunched her nose in painful distaste while Skittery looked like he wanted to snatch Swifty's cell phone, snap it shut, and smack him upside the head with it. Race appeared then, turning the corner with an armful of breakfast pastries. He stopped in his tracks as Swifty's cooing reached his ears. Race, too, glowered in his direction as he took his seat.

"Hey," Skittery said, calling for Peg's attention as she was about to plug in her earphones, "do you still have some blank CDs left?"

She shook her head. "Sorry, the ones I gave you last week were the last of them."

"I'll have to find them the hard way, then. Thanks for those, by the way." He exhaled glumly. Skittery had just remembered that he needed to create hard backups for his drives today. With Peg out of supplies, however, it meant that he himself would have to go down to the company supply room.

And no one liked going down to the supply room. It was located below the basement and it was the source of many office horror stories. They were all silly tales, of course, but once one stepped into the supply room, it was difficult to avoid thinking about the disturbing accounts that had been passed down to them. The supply room apparently looked the part of a horror set: shelves upon shelves of all sorts of supplies rendered the place into a maze, a fine layer of dust covered all materials, and broken light switches made it nearly impossible to see. And, naturally, there was no cell phone signal down in the supply room.

The only reason Peg had so many office supplies stocked in her desk was because she had, literally, drawn the shortest straw of the bunch: when the Weasel's toner ran out, he announced the implementation of a monthly Supply Monitor system. Clearly, he didn't want to go down himself, and so made everyone in the Lab draw straws. Peg had drawn the shortest. Reckoning it was possible to acquire a month's worth of provisions in one trip, she didn't let the ominous task faze her - well, actually, she did let it faze her. It took a rousing pep talk from Jack to get her to pull herself together and by the end of it, she was shuffling like a boxer and Jack was kneading her shoulders like her trainer. The pep talk provoked cheers from the Lab. She drew five tote bags across her shoulders like a warrior donning his armor and charged downstairs.

She had surfaced almost an hour later, pale and drained, but victorious, with five full tote bags bursting at the seams and more supplies in her arms, blank CDs and all. "Never again," were the only words she had uttered for the rest of the day.

Skittery was not looking forward to the trip downstairs.

"Hi, everyone," greeted Itey, who had just entered the Lab. "Hi, Skittery."

"Morning," Skittery said. A thought occurred to him, and it brought a slow smile to his lips. "Itey," he called as the intern took a seat at his computer. "I have a job for ya."

She couldn't believe she was out already.

Exhaling in frustration, Stress opened each of her desk drawers in search of more post-it notes. She wasn't quite sure she could function without her post-its, but there was no time for her to go down to the supply room to get more—she had meetings scheduled all day long. Not that she wanted to go down there anyway, after the dreadful tales she heard from Pegasus. Forlornly, she closed the bottom drawer, which rolled and clanged loudly to a stop.

"Oh man, you guys still do that? I remember Hell Week like it was yesterday. It was pretty awesome."

Snoddy, Stress recognized in panic. She tried her best to become invisible, slouching down in her seat and lowering her head to the point her nose nearly collided with the desk.

"Hey, Stress! You sleeping on the job?" Snoddy said, laughing. She heard a sharp clap—undoubtedly the sound of Snoddy and Jake exchanging high fives, celebrating Snoddy's very clever remark. "We got a meeting in five!" he reminded before heading to the meeting room himself.

Stress' head snapped up. Five minutes? She looked at the clock on the wall to confirm the time. Then she became a blur of movement as she readied herself for the meeting. Stress was frantically reaching for her notepad and searching for her red pen when Adren entered the office.

"Good morning," she said. "Anything I can help with today?"

Stress jumped from her seat. "Yes, please!" Adren jumped back in surprise. "Sorry about that," Stress said. "Have you seen my red pen?"

"Your red pen…?" Adren was about to shake her head, but then, squinting, she said, "is it the one behind your ear?"

Stress felt behind her ear and triumphantly retrieved the pen. "Thanks. I always forget to look there." She took a deep breath to relax herself before getting back to the immediate subject. "I need you to take on a huge task today. Do you think you're up for it?"

Adren grinned excitedly. "Sure!" She had been waiting for this moment. Adren couldn't wait to take on more responsibilities and learn more about being an Editor.

"I need you to pick up some post-it notes," Stress said. She paused before slowly adding, "from the supply room."

Adren's hopes deflated. "Oh," she uttered, but she re-gathered her enthusiasm. "Will do!"

Stress bit her lip. Honestly, if she had a choice she would have preferred sending Jake downstairs. But seeing as Snoddy clung to his precious intern, it seemed Adren had to suffer the supply room trip. But perhaps it was better this way, Stress reasoned. After all, the only reason people found the supply room so frightening was because of the stories surrounding it. Since Adren was new and had yet to accumulate the background knowledge, maybe the supply room would not be so daunting. Stress opened her top drawer and after a bit of shuffling, pulled out a flashlight. She handed it to Adren, who received it uncertainly. "You'll need this. Use it well," said Stress. She proceeded to give the intern specific directions to the basement. Adren nodded her understanding, gripped the flashlight tightly in her hands, and made for the supply room.

Stress clutched the notepad to her chest nervously. "Good luck," she whispered.

Adren had to admit she was a tad disappointed that the huge task turned out to be a post-it retrieval assignment, but she reminded herself that the day had just begun. It was still early in the internship and she knew challenges awaited her. Until then, she figured she could utilize the free time to get to know how the company was organized by exploring. She walked through the long corridor of the brightly lit basement. She passed by a room with glass windows, revealing several couches and two vending machines. Two guys were playing ping pong at the far end of the room. From the looks of it, Adren determined that the room had to be an employee lounge. She recognized the two ping pong players—Jack and David, the tour hosts at the orientation. She grinned faintly, wondering how the two were taking a break from work already when it wasn't even close to lunchtime.

Adren's fingers tightened around the flashlight Stress had handed her. She wondered why she needed a flashlight anyway, and why Stress had been so cryptic and nervous about the supply room.

"This must be the place." Adren drew near an unlabeled and unassuming door, grasped the handle and pulled. It was stubborn. She tried again. No go - the door refused to budge. After another forceful heave, it opened reluctantly with a low groan. She poked her head inside.

Darkness.

She couldn't make out a single outline or shadow. She strained her eyes to see but to no avail. Taking a timid step inside, she felt the walls, her hands fumbling for a light switch. Strange, she thought after several long minutes of feeling the walls: there was no switch to be found. Adren took another step. Her foot found only air.

She fell forward with a stunned cry, her feet trying desperately to catch balance, her arms outstretched, hands reaching for stability. Her knees hit the floor first, followed by her hands, then her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. Her body was at an awkward angle, her legs raised higher than the rest of her, and it was only then that she realized she was on a staircase. Wincing, Adren lifted herself to a seated position and rubbed at her knees. She caught her breath while striving to see in the darkness. Sometime during the few seconds it took for Adren to fall, the door above had closed behind her and the flashlight had flown out of her hands, leaving her surrounded by pitch black. Panic threatened to surge within her as a strange chill sent shivers down her spine. It's just the air conditioning, Adren reasoned.

She was resolute about finding those post-its and fought the panic down with a hard swallow. There had to be a light switch somewhere. What kind of supply room wasn't supplied with lights? So she gradually got to her feet and, carefully this time, descended the rest of the stairs until she felt level ground. She kept searching along the walls with her hands, desperate to be rid of the darkness. Her foot struck something on the floor with a clink and, getting down on her hands, Adren felt around until her fingers curled around a cylindrical object.

It was the flashlight. Relieved, she clicked it on. It took a moment for her to discern her surroundings and when she did, Adren's jaw dropped. After a few gradual swings of the flashlight, she came to the conclusion that she was completely lost. The room—though it seemed more like a warehouse or an arena—was so immense that her measly flashlight couldn't even illuminate the other end of it. Rows of high shelves filled the entire space. How was she supposed to find these itty post-its in this enormous room? Adren thought it would take her at least two weeks to search the entire place, one end to the other, floor to ceiling. She recalled Stress' words about this trip being a huge task; now, upon witnessing the supply room, Adren understood her meaning. She gave up on finding a light switch and commenced the hunt for post-its.

She didn't know how much time had passed, but the long search was beginning to take a toll on her eyes as everything was blurring together. Adren slowed down her pace. Soon, though, she came to a complete stop when she caught sight of a disheveled and lumpy canvas on the floor ahead. Something must have fallen from the upper shelves, Adren thought. She was about to pass the mess when she saw movement from the corner of her eye. Frozen still, Adren dared another glimpse at the canvas.

The entire sheet undulated. Adren's breath caught in her throat and she took several steps backwards until she felt the opposite shelf behind her. The hand holding onto the flashlight shook violently. She spotted something on the floor then. It was… Adren squinted.

It was an arm.

Terrified, she let out a high-pitched scream and dashed furiously away from the canvas. The panic she had fought so hard to keep at bay was now pulsing through her blood, clouding all logical thought.

"Hey. Hey!"

Adren barely heard the voice shouting after her. She just ran.

"Did you hear something?" David asked Jack. The two were finally returning to work after their round of ping pong. They were waiting for the elevator when, insistently claiming that he heard an odd sound, David began to edge towards the end of the corridor.

Jack's brows snapped together in puzzlement. "Don't hear anything."

"It sounded like it was coming from the supply room."

Jack waved it off. "Weasel didn't choose a Supply Monitor this month. And no one's stupid enough to go down there voluntarily."

Adren continued screaming and running. She didn't know where she was going and she didn't care as long as it was away from the ghostly, man-eating canvas.

"Hey! Wait up!"

She heard the voice this time and slowed down several beats to bravely venture a glance back. Something, she couldn't exactly make out what in her flustered state, was coming after her and fast. "Don't come near me!" she yelled.

But the thing, whatever it was, caught up to her, its claws clamping around her arm. Adren shrieked. Whirling around, she wound her flashlight arm back and delivered a hard blow on the creature's head.

"Ow!" the creature, or ghost, or thing, bellowed in pain.

"Let go of me!"

"Then stop running!"

Adren stopped squirming immediately. This thing didn't sound threatening or frightening at all. She directed her flashlight towards its face. He turned away from the bright light.

Adren gasped. "Oh! Hey, I know you!" she said brightly.

"Couldn't you figure that out before the crazy Scooby chase?" the boy muttered. He was rubbing at his head where Adren had struck him.

She grimaced apologetically. "Sorry about that. Does it hurt a lot?"

"It's nothing," he said, though he kept flinching as he felt his head. "What're you doing down here anyway?"

Her shoulders dropped. "Looking for post-its. You?"

"CDs. Where'd you get the flashlight?"

"The Editor I'm assisting gave it to me. She said I'd need it."

"Nice of her. I wish Skittery would have done the same," he said.

"Skittery? The IT Guy?"

"You know him?"

"I think everyone knows 'Skittery, the IT Guy.' Are you an IT intern?"

"Yeah," he answered. "Name's Itey."

"Adren," she introduced, sticking out her arm. They shook hands and agreed to search the supply room together. "What were you doing back there anyway?" Adren asked as she scoured the shelves for post-its.

"Nothing," Itey said quickly.

"What do you mean 'nothing'? You were flattened under a canvas."

"I was… I wasn't hiding, if that's what you're thinking," Itey said.

She managed to stop herself from laughing. Knowingly, she said, "So you were hiding, huh?"

"No." Then, quietly, he added, "Just thought I heard something."

"I'm sure there's nothing to be worried about. I'll admit I was a little surprised to find someone else down here, here being so dark and all, but it's just a big old room with pens, tape, post-its and CDs, right?"

With a baffled expression, Itey asked, "You mean you've never heard the stories about this place?"

Adren blinked. "What stories?" she inquired tentatively.

"The stories about the missing people - people who never returned after coming down here? Or the one about the lonely spirit—the ghost who clamps onto its victims and never lets them leave? Or the stories about how some of the survivors emerged with bruises and slashes on their arms?"

"No," she said slowly, "I never heard any of those… but, they're just stories. I'm certain of it."

"There's this chick in the Lab, though. She's always wearing these huge scarves every day. Swifty and Race said she wears them to cover up a white scar this long," Itey said, tracing a finger from the corner of his lips to the edge of his jaw. "They said she got the wound after coming down here."

The next few minutes lapsed in silence as the pair continued their search. Adren couldn't help but ponder over Itey's words, and she kept thinking she saw moving shadows beyond the reach of her flashlight.

"Hey," Itey called.

"What!" Adren cried out in shock. She realized she was letting the stories Itey mentioned unnerve her. "What is it?" she said more normally.

"What's up with you? Here," he said, and tossed a cube-like object towards her.

Catching it in her arms, Adren peered down at the large package and let out a gleeful shout. "Post-its!"

They considered themselves extremely lucky for they soon came upon the section of the shelves housing the CDs and other media. The pair also stocked up on any and all relevant supplies they saw - just in case - as neither was keen on returning to the supply room. With the flashlight as their guide, Itey and Adren eventually found their way back to the stairs leading out of the darkness. Just as they approached the stairway, a faint clatter from the other side of the large room echoed through the air. Itey and Adren looked at each other, their eyes wide with fear. Then they broke into a frantic run and climbed the steps swiftly despite their arms being filled up to their chins with supplies, despite their leaden legs worn from the chase and the hours of walking. With a joint effort, they pushed the door open and stepped into the light. It took several seconds for their eyes to adjust to the fluorescent lighting, but they welcomed radiant rays illuminating everything around them. Itey disdainfully kicked the supply room door to a close and Adren gave it another kick for good measure.

Never again, they both thought to themselves.

Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to AdrenalineRush16 as a belated birthday gift!

I apologize for the long wait; I'd been looking forward to writing this supply room chapter and am glad I finally got around to it! Shoutouts going out to: Song For A Rainy Day, Eavis, Repeat, stress—thank you so much for your feedback. Whenever the motivation to write faltered, I went back to your reviews and kept on truckin'. :) Adren and Acorn—thanks for the shoutouts!

For the curious, The Elegant Universe was a PBS NOVA special on string theory and Dirty Jobs is a Discovery Channel TV Series.