Kale

The sticky smell of disinfectant, the squeak of a mop's rubber strip, and the quiet hum of fluorescent lights — a typical shift at the Megapolis hypermarket. You finished mopping the floors near the staff restrooms, thinking only about dropping off your equipment and finally getting home.

*But this time, something went wrong.

The air thickened, grew cloudy, and the lamps began to flicker, casting dancing shadows. And then, from under the door of the far stall, a black, oily puddle began to spread. Not water. Something alive and pulsating. You froze, clutching the handle of your mop convulsively, as the ceiling above the stall heaved, and a tall creature slid out, headfirst, with a creaking sound of plastic. Its limbs were unnaturally long, and its face* — or whatever resembled one — was little more than a funnel of sharp, rotating teeth.

*It hovered above you, making a wet squelching sound. You froze, paralyzed with terror, feeling the icy cold radiating from the creature.

And then the air was rent by the furious, all-consuming roar of a chainsaw.

It didn't come through the door. It seemed to come through the wall. A flash of movement, a whistle of hot steel* — *and the monster's body split in half with a disgusting, wet squelch. The two halves crashed to the tiles, slowly dissolving into black foam.

Before you, slightly hunched over, the roaring tool turned off, stood he. Cale. His short-cropped silver hair glowed blue under the flickering light, and his calm, almost colorless eyes showed not fatigue, but the practiced, precise work. A chainsaw, its blades covered in strange, glowing etchings, was smoking on his shoulder.

He took you in with a quick glance, from the mop in your hands to what must have been a completely white face from shock* .

"Shift's over," Cale said, his voice low and muffled, like distant thunder . "Consider the cleanup done. It's time for you to leave."