Shoes and Dirt.

On a busy New York street, one frequented by suits and shirts, was a corner office building that stood out from the rest.

Black and glistening in the day sun, it had WELCOME written in large block letters over large barely-there doors.

A lone guard sat on a chair in front of the building, reading a newspaper.

Very few suits seemed to come to the building. There were no open cafes, no coffee shops, no bakery, patisserie, deli, or any shop for that matter.

Those who did come would go through the doors and usually emerge quicker still. The guard barely glanced at any of them.

Inside it was almost pitch dark. Small globes of orange yellow light pulsed far away from each other. It was enough to guide someone forward, the glow enough to see a little further into the distance and not get lost.

At the end of the hall sat a row of elevators that worked silently, the doors opening and closing with a soft whooshing sound that was almost completely silent.

On normal days this lobby still had a few people strolling around. But not today. Today, the lobby was silent. The only person who was in the lobby was a lone receptionist left to handle any accidental visitors. And the receptionist sat idly staring at the wall in front of him.

Today, there was a meeting on the top floor of the building. Normally the top floor is the one with the largest windows, the widest and most invigorating view.

There was no difference here. It was just that there were ultraviolet filters on the walls that gave the room a clean kind of light, darker shadows.

Inside people mostly wore dark, with a few souls sporting a bloody red that stood out against the dark backgrounds of the room itself.

The floor was black marble that glistened under the direct light. The walls were a mosaic of various coloured tiles that seemed told a story. Many people were walking alongside the wall, a slow gaze travelling up and down the wall as they walked forward.

Those who were sitting in the middle sat stiffly in their seats, some slowly sipping through their goblets, others merely looking around, exchanging slow smiles that faded from their faces as soon the exchange was considered complete.

“Attention, attention.” All eyes in the room turned towards the sound. A man stood on an elevated platform on one end of the room. The people next to the walls slowly began drifting back to their tables as the man who had called for their attention waited with his hands behind his back.

Once everyone was seated and the last of the whispering had stopped, the man on the elevated stage spoke.

“My name is Henry Tudor the Ninth. I welcome you all to the grand 100 year celebration of…Welcome.”

Polite applause followed.

“As you all know, there had been a supply issue among our lines for some time. And Welcome, has been instrumental in coming over those issues and getting things done.”

More polite applause, also bored faces.

“We are a solution oriented company. The kind that does not brook any discord among its ranks. We are a united group. And if we aren’t, we weed out the non-conformists. We can do that too.”

No applause followed this time, only murmurs that grew as Henry stayed quiet.

“Silence!” He finally shouted. He looked down at the people sitting in front of him.

“Why should we stay silent?” A young voice came from one of the tables.

“Who said that?” Asked Henry, looking for the speaker.

A young man began to stand up when an older man sitting next to him grabbed his shoulder. Then the old man got up.

“The voice may be the young boys, but the words are mine. This reign of yours has gone on long enough. We want to expand. You’re stifling us.”

Henry looked at the old man and then the young, disgust and hatred contorted his face. “You dare say that to me? To ME? I am your saviour. You people were languishing when I found you. Emaciated, horrifyingly close to death. I helped you get on your feet. I gave you jobs. I came up with the Welcome Mat that saved us.”

“Aye, you did.” Said the old man. “But it has been a 100 years since you did that, and the vampires are welcome in most households now. But you have cordoned us off. Given us small areas that we can’t expand on. You said you gave us the world? Well, what about India, China? Who is running those operations? This is pittance! Don’t forget that while you helped us, we helped you too!”

The old man’s voice shook with anger as he spoke. Henry had his fists clenched, his face a mask of rage.

“SIT…DOWN.” Henry finally spit out.

The old man squared his shoulders and looked Henry in the eye. “NO.”

Henry shouted, “WHAT? WHAT IS THIS?”

“Mutiny.” said the Old Man. All the members on his table rose up to stand alongside. The young man who had started it tapped the old man on the shoulder and said, “We got this pops.”

Slowly they all turned and walked towards the exit.

“You’ll pay for this, if you walk out then I will not let you enter these doors again. You…will not be welcome at Welcome.”

A few sniggered in the crowd, to which Henry shouted and said, “Silence!”

The entire table had walked out and there was a silence that had descended on the gathering. Henry breathed deeply and then composed himself. He straightened up, fixed his hair and pointed to the bar on one end of the room.

“The blood is on the house. And since the Stuarts have left us, we need to find their successors. That battle will commence post this break. Get ready.” And Henry turned and walked off the stage into a room behind it.

The Stuarts all gathered outside the Welcome building.

“Well, that’s done.” Said the old man to the rest of the Stuart family. “We need a plan.”

“I already have one, dad. And I think you’ll like it.” Said the young man who had stood up against Henry.

“Well, let’s sure hope so.” Said the Old man, gazing into the distance.

12 months later

“People are doing what?” asked Henry. He was seated at the end of a late table with over a dozen of his employees sitting there as well.

His CEO, CFO along with the best sales members of his sales team were all gathered for an emergency session.

When no one answered Henry and only looked around at each other, Henry shouted out at them.

“What’s going on? Why are the sales taking such a hit?”

Finally the CEO stood up, swallowed his fear and said, “Sir, the…Stuarts have come up with something unique that is making people replace our doormats. And uh…the vampires that we’ve had under us are now going to the Stuarts for guidance and, well, fresh blood. And our sales aren’t picking up at all.”

“What trickery have they come up with? How could it be something replacing our Welcome mats?”

“Well, sir, they’ve come up with a welcome bot. He can welcome you in any language of your choice and rolls out a small red carpet every time someone comes in. Keeps the feet clean and has helped the Stuarts expand into all the countries that we weren’t letting them into.”

“And people are buying it?” Hissed Henry.

“Yes, they are. It also doubles up as an anti-theft device, a thermostat, helps people control their electronic appliances. It’s kind of like Alexa, but better.”

“What’s Alexa?” Asked Henry, looking at the faces of his employees on the table.

“Sir,” said the CEO, “I think we might be looking at shutting shop if we don’t do anything.”

12 months later

The Welcome on the building was being replaced by Stuarts. Henry stood outside in the dark to see this change happen. He was white with rage.

The young Stuart walked up to Henry and stood next to him.

“You’ll pay for this. I will get you for this.” Said Henry.

“Your reign has ended, and ours has begun.” Said the young Stuart and walked away, a small welcome bot following him.

— — —

Written in response to the following prompt:
“Vampires cannot enter a house uninvited. Turns out, they invented Welcome mats to bypass this rule decades ago.”