"Hah… hah… It's finally over for real."
Casey nearly collapsed, panting heavily as he tried to catch his breath.
By some small stroke of luck, or perhaps sheer perseverance, he had actually managed to complete all the objectives on his to-do list.
For example, things like moving the heaviest crates without tipping them over, stacking boxes neatly in the far corner of the warehouse, and double-checking the inventory list for accuracy. Even the minor tasks, like labeling shipments and clearing the narrow aisles, were finally done.
He sank against a nearby pallet, wiping sweat from his forehead.
'Five minutes. Just five minutes… Just enough to recharge a little and I'll be good. I promise.'
His eyelids drooped, and his body finally began to relax. The ache in his muscles was fading into a dull throb, and for the first time all day, he felt almost weightless.
Of course, it didn't last long.
"Casey."
The familiar voice jolted him awake. His eyes snapped open to see Mr. Joel standing a few feet away, arms crossed, staring at him.
"Yes, sir?" Casey croaked, rubbing his temples as he tried to shake off the brief nap.
"Sorry to bother but can I ask you a question?"
"Um... yes, I guess. What is it?"
"Well, how should I put this?"
Mr Joel scratched his cheek, not knowing what to say. His expression was undoubtedly strange and even seemed quieter than usual.
Could it be...
Suddenly, a bad premonition stirred in his gut.
"Say… can you stay behind and clean up the place?"
"Eh?"
"Didn't you hear me? I asked if you could work overtime and clean the warehouse."
"No, I heard you the first time. I just don't get why you're asking me. What happened to the cleaners?"
The thought of sweeping and scrubbing after hours of heavy lifting wasn't exactly appealing. Still, outright refusing wasn't really an option, not without inviting unnecessary trouble.
It wasn't like he was afraid of losing his job. Mr. Joel wasn't that unreasonable. But there was always a line you didn't cross in places like this.
'Might as well hear him out.' Casey concluded.
A few seconds passed before Mr. Joel cleared his throat and began to explain:
"The cleaners called in and said something about a scheduling issue. They won't be coming in today."
"All of them?"
"That's what I was told." Mr. Joel shrugged lightly, though the irritation in his voice didn't quite fade. "Either way, the place can't be left like this. We've got another shipment early tomorrow morning."
"And you want me to clean the entire warehouse by my lonesome? Isn't that too much? What about the others?"
Mr. Joel continued, letting out a tired sigh.
"I asked them, and every single one of them said the same thing. Apparently, they already made plans after their shift. Some of them didn't even bother pretending to think about it."
"So… I'm the only one left?"
"Unfortunately, that's the case. Won't you think about it?"
"Sorry, but that won't be possible. I also have plans for tomorrow and I can't be late. Same old college stuff."
College, huh… I guess I can't keep you here against your will."
"Then."
"But what if I pay you an extra fifty dollars?"
"…What?"
Casey froze, the words taking a second to register. Then his expression twisted noticeably, and he turned away, clearly unimpressed.
Realizing his blunder, Mr Joel panicked and quickly raised the bid.
"Wait—hold on. I can go higher."
"How much higher?" Casey paused mid-step but didn't turn around.
"Seventy."
"…Not worth it."
"Eighty," Mr. Joel shot back almost immediately.
Casey clicked his tongue under his breath.
'Persistent.'
He finally turned halfway, just enough to glance at him.
"You're really pushing this."
"I really need the place clean. Tomorrow's shipment is bigger than usual. If things aren't in order, we'll fall behind before we even start."
Casey studied him for a moment.
There was definitely something off. Not just the request, but the way he was insisting.
"…One hundred," Mr. Joel added after a brief pause, as if making a final decision. "I'll pay you a hundred extra!"
One hundred extra. That was practically double his usual pay.
For Casey, who had a looming student loan hanging over his head, every bit counted. The moment he heard that number, his hesitation vanished just like the wind of solstice.
"I guess… I can stay a little longer."
"Hahaha! I knew you had it in you!" Mr. Joel laughed, slapping Casey on the back a few times before reaching into his wallet and pulling out some cash. "Here. Take today's pay."
"Oh? You're too kind, sir."
"Look at this greedy brat, taking advantage of his boss. Don't worry, this kind-hearted man forgives you. Just try not to come in late next time, alright?"
Casey let out a quiet chuckle, slipping the cash into his pocket.
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Good," Mr. Joel replied, giving him one last pat on the shoulder before stepping back. "Cleaning supplies are in the storage room. Just make sure everything's in order before you leave."
"Yeah, yeah. I got it."
With that, Mr. Joel turned and walked off, his footsteps gradually fading into the distance.
Casey remained where he stood for a moment, staring at his rapidly fleeing back wordlessly.
Still, as he glanced around the warehouse, that earlier unease crept back in.
Most of the workers had already clocked out, leaving behind an empty, cavernous space filled only with the occasional metallic creak of cooling machinery and an uncanny silence.
Don't think about it.
Grabbing a broom from the corner, he headed toward the nearest aisle. The bristles scraped softly against the concrete as he began sweeping up loose plastic, bits of cardboard and fine dust that had settled into the cracks.
Step by step, he moved deeper into the warehouse.
The further he went, the dimmer it seemed to get. Not because the lights were out, but because the surrounding space felt thicker somehow.
It wasn't an increase in air density but 'thickness.'
"…Weird."
He paused for a second, glancing over his shoulder.
Nothing was there.
Just rows of crates and empty space.
Clicking his tongue again, Casey shook his head and resumed sweeping.
Just get it done and leave.
The steady rhythm of the broom echoed around him.
But even as he worked, he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't entirely alone anymore. Time slowly passed and yet, this feeling did not fade but become increasingly profound.
Bam!
A sudden noise echoed through the warehouse.
Casey turned sharply, only to see a plastic bucket rolling across the floor, wobbling as it went.
"…What?"
The bucket continued to roll for a few seconds before finally slowing to a stop a dozen feet away from him.
What the…?
Did a stray cat get in here again?
And why the trash bucket, of all things, especially when I'm cleaning? Tch. What a pain.
Clicking his tongue, Taylor made his way toward where the bucket had come from, expecting to find some nuisance lurking in the shadows.
But when he got there, nothing entered his view.
…Strange.
I could've sworn something was here. Otherwise, how would that thing fall and roll like that?
He rubbed the back of his head, briefly entertaining a possibility.
Maybe the wind?
A second later, he shook his head.
That didn't make sense.
The warehouse was sealed tight. And with no open windows, there was no strong drafts. Nothing that could push a bucket hard enough to send it rolling across the floor.
A faint crease formed between his brows as the silence around him deepened. Casey stood there for a few seconds before ruffling his hair.
"Screw this."
Irritation finally got the better of him. Casey turned away, intent on finishing his shift as quickly as possible and getting out of there.
Or at least… that was the plan.
From the dim stretch between the aisles, something peeled itself from the darkness.