[WAR] Graveyard Shift

[Grassy_Aggron]

This might need a couple of re-reads to understand why it happened. I'll put spoilers at the end if you can't figure it out though. I'm nice :3 And I consider this "realistic horror" XD

Graveyard Shift

Work sucks. I’m not kidding here when I say that running around on a showroom floor could literally cause your heart to stop from boredom and you to suddenly die. I loved how the cars looked, don’t get me wrong, but it also made me angry that I could never afford them. I wasn’t even a salesman, I was the janitor. I cleaned the floor, the cars, the bathrooms… All minimum wage while Jeff – screw that man – and his friends laughed it up with the customers, earning a thousand dollars more to their paycheck as they signed the buyer’s agreement. Seriously, I hated them, and it didn’t help they treated me lower than dirt because of it too.

I’m left alone at night to clean up their mess, and it’s quite lonely. My mind tends to wander this late as I whistle a tune, bringing the mop back and forth. It was mundane and boring, and this entire area was rather quiet afterhours. Sometimes I was tempted to take a peek in my coworkers’ desks and see if I could find anything dirty, but the notion was cast aside since I’d get fired instantly. As much as I hated this job, I needed it to bring in a steady paycheck. The bills wouldn’t pay themselves.

I stopped for a moment and made my way over to the coffee machine. I made some espresso to pick me up at…geez, what was the time? I squinted at the clock, and it read nine a.m. on the last day of March. Knowing it wasn’t right, I checked with my watch – I almost forgot I was wearing one – and confirmed my suspicion that the time, not date, was incorrect. The battery must have run dry this morning since the clock garnered very little maintenance. I’d have to go into the closet to replace it, and although it was rather aggravating, it had to be done. I waited to finish my drink, gulping down the liquid as quickly as I could. Setting my mop to the side, I made my way to the back of the building, flicking a switch to draw on the dim lights.

It didn’t take me long to find a pair of batteries, and I made my way back to the clock. Pulling it off the wall, I started to put them in when a loud clattering sound made me jump. Turning around, I was relieved to find that my mop simply had a case of unfortunate timing when it fell, and I quickly finished my work with the clock, setting it to the time that my watch said. It was closer to eleven so I still had a few hours left to work. These ten hours shifts were killing me, and now I realized why they were called the “graveyard shift”. I’d be dead in some hole soon enough from it.

I started mopping again, easing back into the routine. Since the coffee was starting to kick in, I picked up some speed, and cleared the lower level within half an hour. It wasn’t anything special, as I had already been more than halfway done, but it was nice to finally have it over with. I still had the entire second floor, but hey, getting it done now was better than nothing. So with a shrug, I made my way to finish it, hearing a slight tapping on the glass. I paid it no heed, figuring it was just a tree swaying in the wind. It happened often enough, so it didn’t really spook me like it used to. I was as nervous as a jackrabbit back then!

As I continued to mop, eventually it hit midnight and the old grandfather clock up here began to chime. It was a comfort, and it signaled that I only had six hours of work left. That always made me both happy and sad, but I found great enjoyment counting it as it ticked off the seconds. I tried to match or exceed them with my cleaning, as it gave me a slight adrenaline rush to race it. Combined with the caffeine, it made me one lean, mean, mopping machine.

Bong.

That’d be number ten there. I got two swipes in with my mop.

Bong.

Number eleven, and three swipes this time. I’m on a roll!

Bong.

The final chime, and five swipes. I swear I got a new world record or something this time.

Bong.

…I halted, entirely confused. This was new, and it was an unwelcome change. I counted the chimes again, and much to my dismay I was still correct. That had been a thirteenth chime. Putting the mop against the wall once again, I went to investigate it, but before I could even reach it the shrill sound of a car alarm started going off. I panicked, quickly running towards the director’s desk where the keys were kept. I yanked open the drawer and grabbed the key ring, darting out.

I forgot I had even mopped, and my feet slid on the stairs as I lost my balance. The back of my head hit the stair hard, and I tumbled for what seemed like an eternity before hitting the ground. The room was swimming and I felt my head, noting that it was damp and likely bleeding. Worker’s compensation, here I come!

Staggering to my feet, I managed to limp my way into the foyer area, looking for the car that was the culprit. It was easy enough to find with the flashing lights and I ran up to the gold van, fumbling with the keys until I found one which controlled the horn. I locked the vehicle up tight, wondering exactly what had set it off in the first place. As I turned around I noticed that the front door was ajar, and dread began to clutch at my heart. All of these events couldn’t just be a coincidence, could it?

No, there had to be something rational behind it. Walking toward the front door, I closed it - securely this time – and locked it, turning around to examine the area in front of me. Nothing seemed amiss, but my headache was getting worse. I really needed to attend to my head wound, so I made my way to the lunchroom. It was an odd place to keep the medical equipment, but it was also easy to access and known by all employees. I grabbed some cloth and antiseptic and started heading toward the bathroom, but I made sure to grab a kitchen knife to bring with me as well.

Wrapping up my injury hurt like hell, but at least it was taken care of. I was not getting paid enough for this. As I stared at my tired, almost panicked reflection, something caught itself at the edge of my attention – a flickering shadow that disappeared when I turned to look. I tensed, waiting for it to appear again but it didn’t. I heard the clattering of the mop once more, and with a start I began to run.

I rushed up the stairs as quickly as I could without slipping again, knowing full well a tumble with the knife would be painful and quite possibly lethal. I saw a shadow move into a hallway and gave chase, knowing I hadn’t mopped that area yet so I didn’t have to worry about sliding. Whoever had broken in was fast and determined to get away, but I wasn’t about to let that happen. I was cleaning this place, and I was damned if someone was going to muck it all up again!

The figure knocked down some paper from a desk as they ran by and I nearly slid as a result. This was getting annoying, and I certainly wasn’t keen on falling again. I followed them into a room, barking out a “stop!” before they turned around. They tried to shove me aside but we fell, smacking into the ground and tussling. The knife got knocked away from my hand, skittering across the floor to the wall. I wriggled and squirmed to break free but they were already trying to get over to it.

So to fix that issue, I grabbed them by the leg and yanked them back. All of that mopping had lead to quite a bit of upper body strength, so it was fairly easy to hamper their progress. I heard a grunt and it was distinctly masculine, so at least now I knew I wouldn’t be punching a woman. I cocked my arm back and let it loose, punching the guy square in the face. While he was a bit disoriented I scrambled for the weapon, grabbing it just in time to get flipped over onto my back.

I cursed at him as he got on top in an attempt to subdue me. I made a quick thrust, and a startled yelp told me that I had hit my mark. I didn’t stop – I kept the offensive up, jabbing over and over as the guy started to slide off of me. Warm, sticky blood made the blade slick and I cringed as it sliced my hand open, but still I continued on with the attack. His cries and struggling both got weaker until, at last, I was able to get on top. He tried one last desperate move to grab my weapon and, when it failed, I stabbed him again for it. I felt the knife slide between two ribs as it cut through tough muscle, lodging itself firmly into whatever organ was beneath. It was impossible to remove the weapon with how deep it was so I decided to get a look at whoever had attacked me while they lay still.

I ripped the mask off, and I gave a scream that sounded inhuman and muffled to my own ears.

It was Jeff.

And I had killed him.


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If you can't figure out the motive...

Spoiler:

Note the date, March 31st ("the last day of March" and it is eleven at night, at least. The grandfather clock then hits midnight, so now it is April 1st. April Fools. Jeff was trying to play a prank on our poor janitor here and it went horribly wrong. Jeff was not the killer this time :P It's vague, but it's supposed to be implied through the dates, times, and the fact the guy never actually hurt our narrator. There is animosity between the two since Mr. Janitor hates Jeff and he treated our guy like dirt... So really, scaring the crud out of our narrator wouldn't be beneath him.