The janitor

His back hurt, from the middle right up between his shoulder blades. He wanted to shift position, but knew better than to lift his head. Holding the brush in hand, he continued to scrub the floor.

The Order continued to speak in the other room. They couldn’t see him, technically. He wouldn’t risk it though. There was every chance that they would know if he stopped. As long as he did as he was bid, they would act as if he didn’t exist. Which was what he wanted. If he was trapped amongst them, he might as well not have any more attention put upon him.

The screams began. He focused on the floor, scrubbing away. Trying to get the stains out of the wood. Trying to cover up the smell. This was the last room used for their current endeavor.

He kept at it. He would do the best job that was possible, even if it meant having to hear the sounds of cracking, ripping, screaming, gurgling, from the other room. Perhaps he couldn’t remove it completely, but that would be all right. As long as, in the end, it was all covered up. That was what he had been told to do.

If he didn’t, it might be him making those noises next.

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