Director of Social Media

by Ivan X Cruz

While the lives of so many rests in my hands, I sit at my desk going over the events that led to this responsibility. It started about a month ago as I slouched on the couch in my studio, or as my friends like to call it, “The Bachelor Shoebox Pad.” Surrounded by empty containers of Chinese takeout and pizza boxes, I was desperately searching online for a job. I had been unemployed for several months, my savings were about to run out, and the bills were piling up. If I’m being honest, the envelopes with ‘Delayed Pay Notice’ labels were towering on the table in my living room. My fingers were crushing the keys on my laptop as the windows on the screen kept switching from one job site to another. I must have read and applied to a hundred job postings by now and only received a couple of prescreening calls with no further follow-ups. My eyes stung and the palms of my hands were clammy. I was about to shut off the laptop and order more takeout when I spotted the ad.

An ad for a Director of Social Media appeared in one of the job posting sites for my area like the glaring beam of a lighthouse cutting through the dense fog of my desperation. My chest caved in with shortness of breath as I read through the ad. At the time, I was overly excited since there was finally a new job available that I could apply for. The position required vast experience with multiple social media platforms, the ability to create, update and keep track of posts, and the talent to create posts that would rapidly get the attention of thousands of social media users. The job sounded simple enough, especially since I had spent so much time on social media during the previous months. I was already working on my Doctoral degree in Couch Potato Science, and my old communications degree, which I had never put to good use, could be dusted off as a qualification for this job. The title alone was the icing on the cake. Me! A Director! Oh, the prestige it would bring amongst my friends! Or, better yet, I could picture the faces of shock on my previous coworkers when they learn that I have landed on my feet after being laid off.

The urge to be the first one to apply took over and within seconds I clicked the link on the company’s website. A window opened for The Taenarum Group Inc. Without hesitation, I quickly filled out the online application and attached the most recent copy of my resume. My imagination wandered and images started to blossom where I was walking around a boardroom full of executives dressed in suits, chanting “Mr. Director! Mr. Director!” I was gloating at the possibilities when I was violently pulled back to reality by the exasperating ring of my cell phone. I looked at the screen and recognized the area code as that of New York City. I hesitated before answering since most of the calls I had received in previous days were from the collection agencies but my finger pressed the talk button before I could consider who might be on the other end.

“May I speak with Mr. Ryan Johnson?” asked a woman’s voice. “Speaking,” I replied.
“Great! Mr. Johnson, I’m calling regarding your application for

the position of Director of Social Media at The Taenarum Group Inc…”

Less than a minute had transpired since I replied to the ad. My newly found dreams started to rip apart at the possibility of the ad being a prank, or worse, a telemarketing gimmick.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” I interrupted, “but how could you be contacting me so quickly when I just submitted my application a minute ago?”

“That is a very good question Mr. Johnson,” replied the woman. I could just picture her smirk. “At the Taenarum Group, we spare no expense in our efforts to identify the best talent for our company. With that goal in mind, we have developed the most innovative algorithms to identify the ideal skills and expertise within the pool of people that apply daily to our firm. I personally, as the Vice President of Human Resources and Talent Acquisition, overview the entire process.”

After addressing my inquiry, she introduced herself as Mrs. Persephone. During the next thirty minutes, we discussed the requirements for the job. I replied to each of her questions with detailed examples of how I used social media in my previous roles, which I must admit, were mostly made up. She must have liked my experience as she said, “Oh Mr. Johnson, I have to get you in for a face-to-face interview with The Twins, ASAP!” She emphasized The Twins, and hearing those words reminded me of a hammer hitting a chisel as it carved through the marble of my mind.

The Twins, she explained, were the founders and CEOs of the firm. She invited me for a formal interview the following day at their New York City headquarters. I gladly accepted, already mapping the best routes to their office building located in the Financial District.

“And Mr. Johnson, please don’t be late. Tardiness is the one thing The Twins will never tolerate,” said Mrs. Persephone.

That night I prepared my suit for the following day, then I spent a couple of hours going over my resume and getting ready for the interview. As recommended by most job sites, I went to bed early to make sure I was well-rested for the interview, but I couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned all night worried about my interview. I couldn’t stop thinking that I was under qualified for a position with such a title and my hands kept shaking with the fear that I was about to make a fool of myself in front of The Twins, who I had not even met.

The following day, I arrived in the lobby at the scheduled time. It was crammed with people struggling to break through the crowd to get to their destination. Some were pushing, others tugging, some simply going with the flow of the crowd. As I made my way through the sea of people, I spotted a woman standing like an oasis who I immediately ascertained was Mrs. Persephone. How did I recognize her when I had never met her? I wouldn’t be able to answer that. What I can say is that her radiant silver hair and light blue eyes drew my attention.

“Mr. Johnson?” she asked with a smile.

After introducing ourselves, we walked across the lobby and got into an elevator which transported us to the top floor. We made our way to a conference room that was surrounded by glass windows providing a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of the city. We chatted a little and Mrs. Persephone provided some last- minute tips on how to handle the interview.

“Don’t let your nerves take over,” she said, “Just answer what they ask you and focus on your skills.” Eventually, she left the room. Once she closed the door behind her, I was able to look around and take in the view. I don’t recall what floor I was on, but it had to be high since the room was surrounded by an unobstructed 360-degree view of the city. I was hypnotized by the scenery when I heard the door open and The Twins walked into the room. The wonder I felt of the surrounding views dissipated at the sight of the two men. From their hair style to their plucked eyebrows, to their goatees, they were an identical copy of each other. Their suits were the only way to tell them apart. Lycas was the first of the Twins who introduced himself. He was wearing a three-piece, light blue suit, with a dark purple tie. Parrhas, the other Twin, was wearing a light pink three-piece suit, with a bright burgundy tie. They both sat at the conference table across from me and started the interview process. They alternated their questions and once I responded to one, the other would ask the next one. They both spoke in similar tones of voice and a Mediterranean accent. The entire meeting lasted about thirty minutes and during that time the Twins were purely business. There was not a single break during our exchange, which is why when they told me that they were done with their questions, I felt a sudden rush of emotion thinking that I had blown the interview.

To my surprise, before I could thank them for the opportunity to interview, they hit me with a job offer, one that I simply couldn’t refuse. Under any other circumstances I would have been shocked about getting an offer so quickly, but the salary and benefits being offered were so ridiculously unexpected and high, that I felt overly compelled to accept. The Twins did have one demand of their own, if I accepted the position: I had to start the job at eight the following morning. I accepted. Parrhas extended his hand and as we met in a firm handshake he said, “Welcome to the last job you will ever need.” Then Lycas added, “Or have!” We all laughed and I guess I did it out of courtesy since I wasn’t sure what was so funny about that statement. Looking back now, it sounded kind of creepy.

That night I barely slept. The exhilaration of being employed again was crashing through my anxiety if I had the skills to deliver what the job required. What did I know about Social Media other than posting pictures of the food I was about to eat, or hitting “like” on every meme asking to ban the Kardashians from television for eternity? And what did I know about being a Director of anything? At some point during my struggles with confidence, I fell asleep. The following morning Mrs. Persephone welcomed me to the firm and walked me to my new office. I had been assigned a corner office with a large sign in gold letters on the door that read: “Mr. Ryan Johnson, Director of Social Media.” The furniture in my ample office consisted of a white desk with a desktop computer and a large monitor. Next to the computer, there was a folder and someone had written on it: “Assignment #1, complete before nine in the morning, report out at four in the afternoon.” The folder contained a picture of a woman and a piece of paper stapled to it with the following instructions:

1. Create a Social Media post with a picture
2. You can be creative on the message, but it should be along the lines of: “This is Karen Zbinden. She has a tumor. 10,000 likes = 10,000 prayers and she lives. Would you give Karen a like?”
3. Track progress during the day, report out at four in the afternoon with The Twins.

I was relieved that this first assignment was fairly simple. It only took me a couple of minutes to post the ad, but then I kept asking myself “Is this it?” As instructed, I tracked the progress on the post during the day, which I assumed meant to quantify the number of likes it received. I spent most of the day surfing the net and daydreaming about what I would do with my first paycheck. I couldn’t stop thinking that this was all too good to be true, but after being unemployed for so long, the thought of being able to pay my bills on time was overtaking any concerns. At four o’ clock sharp I met with The Twins to give them my report. I had prepared a PowerPoint summarizing the progress of the post by the hour, but they were only interested in the final results.

“She received a total of 7,000 likes and 300 dislikes,” I reported.

“So that’s a total of 6,700 likes then,” replied Lycas.

“What a pity,” added Parrhas as they both thanked me for a job well done and alerted me that it would be twice as hard the next day. I, respectfully, smirked at their warning and replied that I would be prepared.

The following day I had two folders with instructions similar to those of the previous day. One folder was for a Mr. Jonas Long, heart condition, and 30,000 likes. The other was for a Mrs. Laura Wolbach, brain tumor, and 25,000 likes. Just like the previous day, I completed my posts right away, tracked the progress, and reported at 4:00 pm. I informed the Twins that Mrs. Wolbach had exceeded the number of likes requested while Mr. Long was short by a couple hundred. Once again, Parrhas replied, “What a pity!”

The third day at the office I received a similar assignment, but I was provided four folders. Every day, I would get a couple more folders than the previous morning, but the instructions were very similar. The only thing that changed was the subject, the description of the ailment, and the number of likes being requested. I would finish every day with a direct report to The Twins. A couple of times I inquired about the purpose of the work I was doing and their response was that it was a study on Social Media interaction. I offered to assist with that study but they explained that their quality processes required them to keep the analysis separate from the Social Media submission process. I wasn’t convinced with the explanation, but by that time, I had received my first paycheck and I decided to just go with the flow.

Financially, everything was better than I’d imagined, so I’m not sure what triggered me to run my search. If I have to list a reason, I just had a staggering feeling in the back of my mind that something was amiss. The job I was being asked to deliver could be done by any teenager with access to a computer, so why incur such an expense to bring me in?

The next morning, as I was organizing my desk, I happened to find the file of my first assignment, Ms. Karen Zbinden. I was about to put the file away when curiosity whispered in my ear to search for her online. Against my better judgment, I ran a couple of queries in the most popular search engines. Bing and Lycos didn’t find a match, no surprise there, but Google and Yahoo returned interesting results. There was an obituary for a woman with the same name, who passed away from a tumor, the same day I had posted the ad. “It’s a coincidence,” I thought, but as I was going to open the folder which contained the task for the day, I decided to search for another name. I ran a search for Mr. Jonas Long, my second assignment, and after a couple of minutes, I found another obituary. He also passed away the same day I posted his ad, and from the same ailment I had listed, a heart attack. For the next thirty minutes, I searched every person I had created posts for. At the end of my search, I found thirty-one obituaries, one for every person that didn’t meet the number of likes requested in my posts.

My breakfast was beginning to crawl up my throat as I started muttering under my breath, “Is it just a coincidence? This can’t be right. I can’t be responsible for these deaths.” I tried to push away the thoughts and the nonsensical guilt, but there was a voice deep in my conscience that screamed, “You know it is true!” I needed answers and, in a sudden burst of rage, I grabbed the files and ran upstairs to the Twins’ office.

As I approached, their administrative assistant met me in the hallway. “Mr. Johnson, can I help you?” she asked, as I swiftly walked around her.

“Yes, get out of my way!” I reached for the door and as I opened it, she yelled, “You are not supposed to interrupt them!” But I was already inside and slammed the door behind me. It took a couple of seconds for my eyes to adjust. The entire room was dark. There were no windows or decorations and I could barely see in front of me. Out of the void that surrounded me, I felt hands reaching from all directions, poking me. “It’s him, the Director,” I heard someone whisper. My knees buckled and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw the hands belonged to three shadowy shapes encircling me. They moved and stretched around me just like thick dark fog covering the Hudson River during winter. “What are you?” I wondered and as if reading my mind, they whispered in my ear, “We are the Sisters of Fate!”

They dropped the name as an anchor that was supposed to mean something to me but it didn’t. Droplets of cold sweat started to form on my forehead and when I was about to scream, two lights illuminated the space before me. The lights revealed two desks, where Lycas and Parrhas were sitting, observing me like a lab specimen.

“What is the meaning of this?” asked Lycas stepping away from the desk and walking towards me, “Leave him alone, spooks!” He yelled at the shadowy figures. “We never get to play with the help!” exclaimed one of the figures. “Oh, but we will, we eventually will!” replied another as they released me and retreated into the darkness.

“What is this place?” I asked as I regained my composure.

“You barge into our office without an appointment or even knocking, this is insubordination!” yelled Lycas.

“Let’s not get emotional Lycas,” commented Parrhas as he stepped away from his desk. “You better have a good explanation for this,” said Lycas who was clearly more offended by the intrusion than Parrhas.

“I’m the one who deserves an explanation!” I exclaimed before continuing, “Can you tell me what the hell we are doing here? Why have I been posting ads on Social Media for people that passed away when they didn’t receive the number of likes that you required?” I shoved the files towards Lycas’ chest and he grabbed them, his eyes opened wide.

“What are these supposed to be?” asked Lycas as he browsed through the files, “Oh, so you finally did some valuable research.”

“I need to know. Did you kill these people?”

“What?” asked the Twins.

“Why are they dead, specifically the ones that didn’t meet the required likes?”

“Okay, come on, can we all calm down?” asked Parrhas, “Maybe we should take a seat.”

“I’m not sitting down until I get some explanations. And don’t give me any more of that analysis and quality concern bullshit!” Lycas’ eyes narrowed. His hands were clasping as his knuckles whitened. I could feel his anger trying to jump out of his body and tear me to pieces.

“Okay, don’t sit then. But Mr. Johnson,” Parrhas started to say, displaying a wide grin, “what is it you think we do here?”

“Well I, for one, hope we are not in the business of killing people,” I responded.

The Twins looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“What is so funny? Are we killing people here or–”?

“Mr. Johnson, Mr. Johnson, please calm down,” said Parrhas as he placed a hand on my shoulder. “You see, I have to agree with my brother.”

“Oh yeah, on what?” I asked.

“Well it seems for once, as our Director of Social Media, you have finally decided to run a search. I’m curious, did you ever run a search of the company when it first employed you? How about your bosses? Or your recruiter?”

I thought about his questions before responding. “No, I don’t think I did,” I replied.

“Well, of course not. I’m sure you were busy planning how you would spend your upcoming paychecks. But if you had, what do you think you would have found?”

“I don’t know. A bunch of weirdos?” I replied.

“Oh, just let me…” Lycas started to say, as he moved towards me, but Parrhas held him by the arm.

“Let’s not get physical here,” said Parrhas while looking at his brother, “And let’s not resort to name-calling,” he added, turning his gaze in my direction. “Come on Mr. Johnson, think about some of our names; Taenarum Group, Persephone, Lycas, Parrhas, etc. Remember your education, those names must remind you of something.”

One of the names did remind me of something from the first day I heard it. “Well, isn’t Persephone a goddess in Greek Mythology?”

“Now we are getting somewhere. You see, when you met our mother, Persephone…” Parrhas started to say when I interjected.

“Your mother? She can’t be your mother, she is young enough to be your daughter!”

“Sure Mr. Johnson, you can take that one up with our father, Hades, but I wouldn’t recommend it. You see, he is not too fond of dealing with…mortals.”

“Wait, you two think that you are…what? Gods?”

“Is it so hard to believe, Mr. Johnson?”

“No, I guess not. It’s not hard for me at all to believe that you two have gone insane. Maybe, just maybe, you have some sort of brain poisoning from all that money you are swimming in.”

“Just say the word Parrhas, and I will beat him to a bloody pulp!” yelled Lycas.

“Mr. Johnson! I will not tolerate your insults any further, so for your sake, you better tread lightly.” Parrhas’ voice thundered across the room. “We are what we are Mr. Johnson. We do not require your approval or adoration. The fact that you have forgotten about us doesn’t mean that we do not have power or control over you. For millennia we have been observing the likes of you, with the sole purpose of bringing balance to the chaos that your kind creates. And you must realize that we no longer care for your species. We keep and maintain you out of pity. Through generations, you have proven to be a disappointment, one that we have corrected in new types of beings that have been molded from the clay of Gaia.”

“But…” I tried to interrupt.

Parrhas continued. “No Mr. Johnson, your time to speak is over. Whether you believe us or not, isn’t important. Your kind has become the spare parts of an expanding universe, but you specifically have been given a task to help us maintain a balance using technology for those means. We do so because the wars and the destruction that comes with your species is no longer amusing for us. So you will continue to do the job until we tell you that you are no longer needed. Just like Lycas warned you the day you accepted our generous offer, ‘This is the last job you will ever have.’ Do you understand?”

During his tirade, I observed how Parrhas’ complexion changed. His eyes turned a ruby red and his body doubled in size. So when he asked if I understood, I could only reply by nodding shyly.

“Good! I’m very happy that you understand. But Mr. Johnson, we can’t let the insubordination of today slip by. There have to be consequences, so we will write you up. And do you know how we write you up around here? We give you a very demanding and special assignment. So Mr. Johnson, here is today’s assignment,” said Parrhas as he shoved a folder that he produced out of thin air into my chest, “It’s already 8:45 AM, so I suggest that you get to work right away. I have a feeling this will be a very long day for you.” Then he grabbed me by the arm and walked me out of the room.

I slowly started the walk back towards my office as coworkers silently stared at me. My mind was vaguely reviewing everything that had just happened. Had it been real? Even if it had happened, the proposition made no sense. Eventually, I made it to my desk and after careful consideration of the morning’s events, I decided to walk out of the job. I started to pack my things when I remembered the folder that Parrhas had given me. I slowly opened it to reveal one task for the day. I felt dizzy after reading it and dropped into my chair. For the last twenty minutes, I have been staring at the task and wondering how I ended up with this responsibility, if it’s even real. The picture inside the folder was of a meteor and the instructions read:

1. Giant meteor to hit Earth
2. Five million likes = Earth is saved
3. Less than five million likes = Kaboom! Dislikes will be discounted. Why the heck do people spend so much time/ effort disliking something anyway!
4. Make this your best ad ever!!
5. Report at 4:00 PM sharp


When Ivan X Cruz is not working on formulating plans to conquer the world, Ivan Cruz appeases the voices in his head by writing short stories. His addictions to Dachshunds and reading horror fiction were prescribed by his therapist as a way to relax from a demanding career in the healthcare industry. He lives in the state of New Jersey which he loves, which might be evidence he suffers from Stockholm syndrome, with his extremely patient and understanding wife, Karina, and his partners in crime Bubba and Lula (the scheming Dachshunds). Any additional free time, Ivan spends it daydreaming of being on the beach at Wildwood Crest while eating apple fritters. You can connect with him through Facebook at Ivan Cruz, but only if you have a death wish of being mauled by psycho Dachshunds.