Ultimate productivity

Hey, nothing special here. Wasn't feeling too much into writing so Sachiko, another member on this site, told me to start writing whatever came to mind starting with "The hallway was silent." Very draft-esque...well anyway here:

The hallway was silent. Through the windows the faint whistling of the breeze could be heard, enticing and endeavoring to the winds around the building. The spiders slithered from wall to wall, covering the whole hallway in cobwebs, dust, and visions of nightmares.

Gorge also slid through the hallway on his usual route, scarcely making a sound. On the floor of the hallways there were footprints, the only part of the floor not contaminated in a layer of dust and mildew. Gorge was walking methodically, mechanically making the same motions he did each and every day at the stroke of eight. His shoes hit precisely the same they had done before and in exactly the same pattern.

It was the way Gorge was programmed. He was not human, or was he? That was the eternal question Gorge had struggled with his whole life, perhaps the only question in the world he did not know. Gorge possessed intelligence befitting that of a God. He knew every math formula ever conceived, every technical aspect of nearly every machine he’d ever had the pleasure of seeing, memorized all the elements on the periodic table, including atomic number, atomic mass, and other various facts. Yet this one, seemingly simple question had managed to elude him for so long…

The way Gorge looked, each and every movement he made, nothing was unnecessary. He mastered the quickest, most precise route of everything. There was nothing about the building he did not know by his photographic memory.

So, as most days would have it, Gorge walked along the dreary hallway until he reached his office. His office was where he would work. He quite enjoyed his work, and was sure he would enjoy his work today as he always did. Gorge prided himself on his work.

He approached the door to his office, judging purely from the look of the hallway and door another dreary room. The door to the room was airtight, and inside there were no openings to the outside. Nothing got in or out of the room. Gorge gave himself a single second – because a single second was about all the time Gorge would allow himself to waste on an average day – and took a long breath. He would have to hold his breath for around thirty seconds.

Gorge unshackled the lock to the door and headed in. As what happened all other days, the slightly insidious odor from the room crept itself into the hall, but Gorge knew the odor would dissipate well before he would come back.

Inside the room was white as the purest clouds. It was the spitting image of the color white, completely the opposite of the ridiculously murky and disgusting room that Gorge had just descended out of. The exceedingly tiny room was not Gorge’s office, but merely the pathway, a smaller room he had built, so that he could get there with the least amount of interference from the outside.

As always he went over to the wall, and pulled down the gas mask that was attached to the hook, the only thing that stood out in the room. Inside he began breathing regularly again, it always felt when Gorge was allowed to do that. During his thirty second breaths strokes of brilliance would often hit him, but then again strikes of brilliance hit Gorge each and every second.

Gorge went over to the clear door in the crystal white room, opened it very quickly, and slid through. The door would auto lock itself as it always did. Gorge looked around his spacious, highly unusual office, and got ready for another day at work.