Disinfect

A Halloween story fit for the year 2021

It was Spencer’s first night by himself. He couldn’t keep his own house from looking like a pigsty, how was he supposed to clean an entire office building? He’d have to figure it out somehow. He had to figure it out. It wasn’t an option. True, he had other jobs lined up, but this job was important. He had to do something… right. 

The night shift came naturally to him. He’d always been a night owl anyway; drinking downtown all night, partying until three in the morning, hanging out with his friends- that’s just how he liked to spend his time. 

Not anymore. He still couldn’t sleep at night, especially now that… well, especially not now. He couldn’t spend his nights going out anymore. He needed a new outlet. Maybe this job would scratch the itch. Maybe it would make up for what he’d done.

It wouldn't make up for it, of course. Nothing would. That’s okay though. New town. New job. New Spencer. That’s all that mattered. For now, he’d clean the floors, sanitize the desks, and make sure the bathrooms were sparkling. It was all new to him- and to be honest, it all still seemed a bit unnecessary- but he knew how important it was. At the moment, he was focused on trash duty.

Pushing his cart through the halls, he would move from office to office, emptying trash bins and replacing their liners. The latex gloves felt cumbersome to him, but the repetition was soothing and made the time fly by. That repetition was suddenly broken by a harsh sound. Ring ring ring! His phone started vibrating in his pocket. 

Oh no… he thought to himself, checking the caller ID. It was her again. What did she want? It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t answer it. Not after… No. He let it ring out and went about his business; emptying trash can after trash can until he finished the second floor and stepped into the elevator to start the third. Then it rang again. Ring ring ring! 

No, Jenna. You know I can’t answer your calls. He moved on. The third floor was simpler, it was mostly storage and unoccupied spaces, but when he finished, he saw that the next floor included the dining hall, and he groaned. This is going to take forever.

When the elevator opened to the fourth floor, he was surprised to find a long corridor absolutely littered with garbage. What the hell happened here? Was it someone’s birthday? He pushed his cart down the hallway, and with a fresh pair of gloves, he started picking up some of the trash. But he paused when he realized what exactly it was that scattered the floor. Crushed beer cans. Party cups half filled with liquor. Abandoned food plates here and there. He even found an abandoned neck tie just outside a closet door. Reminds me of the good ol’ days. That looks just like the tie that I lost in that party back in… when was it? May? It has the same stains too...

He pushed the cart a little further down the hallway, picking up what he could along the way. The smell of it was awful. It was that of the morning after a dorm party that ended in alcohol induced vomiting and the mysterious lingering scent of urine. Ugh… Definitely just like the good ol’ days… But he stopped when he heard a faint thumping sound off in the distance. Is that… he wondered as he left his cart behind to investigate the sound. The closer he got to its source, the more clear it became- the party was still going. He turned a few corners until reaching a large set of double doors with small windows through which he could see multicolored lights dazzling, and he could hear dance music blaring.

Are they still partying? Man, I wish I could go that hard still… Actually, no… I don’t. I’m kind of surprised they’re still allowed to be doing this. Spencer pushed the double doors open to look inside, but the second the doors parted, the music stopped. There he stood, holding the doors open and being blinded by silent strobe lights dancing across the ceiling of an empty cafeteria- the floor littered with the same party debris as the hallway. 

“Hello?” Spencer called out, but nobody responded. “Hello? Is someone there?” He heard light footsteps followed by the shutting of a door. “O….kay…” Spencer’s stomach churned a little bit, but he turned back to retrieve his cart. When he came back, he called out again, “Am I supposed to clean this up now? You guys done with your little… soiree?” He stood for a moment waiting for an answer, but he knew it wouldn’t come.

Disrespectful. They scurried off without even saying “goodbye.” Despite his annoyance, he got to work. The distraction was worth the effort. His cart, however, could only hold so much, and before long, Spencer had filled it to the brim with party debris. He pushed the cart out of the cafeteria and started making his way back to the elevator. When the cart was full, he was supposed to empty it in the basement receptacle, but as he retraced his steps, something didn’t seem right. He took turn after turn after turn, but he could never find the long corridor that led to the elevator. 

What’s happening? Did I take a wrong turn somewhere? On he marched, hunting down the elusive elevator, the weight of the cart he was pushing made his muscles ache and his forehead drip with sweat. Where the fuck is this elevator? He studied the wall paneling and tried to memorize the names on each of the office doors. With each turn he took however, the grey and khaki walls stayed the same. The names seemed to be recycled and rearranged with each new set of offices. The fluorescent lighting seemed to repeat the same hum over and over. 

As he entered a new hallway, he saw a figure at the other end rounding a corner and disappearing from sight. “Hey! Can you help me? How do I get the fuck out of here?!” Spencer shouted into the darkness. He rushed ahead to follow the figure, but instead, there it was. He’d found the long corridor that ended in the elevator. “Holy shit, I found it! Never mind!” With a sigh of relief, he pushed down the hallway but something seemed different. There was still a considerable amount of debris littered about, but the awful scent was gone. It was replaced with… nothing. It was just gone. He didn’t pay it much mind, however, and pushed on to the elevator door. 

When he pressed the ‘basement’ button, the doors closed, and he somehow felt… alone. Where’d that guy go? Why didn’t he help me find the elevator? He took a second to catch his breath, and he noticed again that the heaping pile of trash in his cart smelled like… well, nothing. Is this real? Is this happening? With his still-gloved hand, he reached out for a dirty food plate and brought it to his nose. Jenna would absolutely hate seeing me do this. Such a neat freak, couldn’t stand the thought of anything that wasn’t perfectly clean… I probably should have followed her example. It was a jalapeno popper with cream cheese filling, and from the looks of it, it had been prepared a day or two ago. This should certainly have been… aromatic. Hesitantly, he took a quick sniff of the plate. Nothing. Confused, he took a deeper, breathier whiff and found the same results. Nothing. 

Ring ring ring! Spencer’s heart nearly jumped out of his throat as his phone started ringing again. Goddamn it, Jenna! It’s like you can hear my thoughts or something... he thought to himself and quickly took his gloves off so he could hang the phone up. He washed his hands before starting work, but he clearly missed some of the crustier bits around his nails. When he slid it back into his pocket, the elevator dinged, and the doors parted just as he looked up. 

Spencer froze. He wasn’t in the basement. As Spencer looked out the door, he saw a dark living room lit only by the moonlight streaking through a sliding glass door. The living room’s furnishings were arranged nicely and were obviously dusted and cleaned frequently. Why am I here? Spencer thought to himself as he absentmindedly stepped into the room. The TV remotes were lined up on the coffee table, the couch pillows were fluffed and neatly arranged, there was a freshly laundered and folded pair of scrubs next on the rack in the corner. Everything was in its place. Just right. Except for one thing. There was a loose leaf sheet of paper on the coffee table. It was a note, clearly written by a careful hand. 

Spencer, 

Why do you insist on going out at a time like this? I know it’s been hard, but it’s not worth the risk! I’m going to bed early, but I packed our bags. We’re leaving for my parents’ house first thing in the morning, and you better be ready!

-Jenna

P.S. I cleaned the kitchen for you… again! You’re welcome!

She was right. It had been hard. It still was. But that was no excuse for the way he had handled the situation. He reread the note. The trip to her parents’ house… God I wish I hadn’t gone on that trip. He looked up and saw the bedroom door. She’s right there. Maybe… maybe I can just- With a heavy step, he reached for the door handle and grabbed it gently. Trying to be as careful as possible, he quietly twisted the handle, but a sudden, breathy sound next to his ear sent a chill up his spine.

It was almost a voice, but there were no words. Just a sharp inhalation. Spencer’s heart raced as he turned around just in time to see a shadow step through a door where the elevator should have been. The shadow slammed the door behind it, and Spencer rushed over to furiously open it back up. That sharp inhalation sounded again, sending another chill through him, but as soon as he opened the door, he shouted, “Hey!” 

His voice just echoed down a long, concrete hallway with flickering fluorescent lights. It was the basement. Spencer eyed his living room again, but he had to find out what was going on. So he slammed the door behind him and sprinted down the basement corridor. Up ahead, he could see the dark figure turning a corner, so he followed it. “Get back here!” Another sharp inhalation sounded in his ear, but this one seemed to drag on slightly and was followed by two thuds. Almost a heartbeat but not. It was too… mechanical. 

Spencer ran, turning the corner to find a nexus of four different hallways. Which way did he go? He listened carefully, and for a fleeting moment, he heard footsteps to his left, so he sprinted off again. Not knowing exactly where he was going, all he had to guide himself were the skittering footsteps of an invisible shadow, and the intermittent strips of fluorescent lights overhead, most of which were flickering inconsistently. 

“Hey! Who are you?! Where am I?!” Spencer shouted through heavy breathing as he ran. He was gaining on the shadow, and when he finally turned the last corner, Spencer stopped. The shadow was there, standing on the lip of a concrete ledge that overlooked the massive trash receptacles that Spencer had come down here for in the first place.

Spencer’s stomach dropped. What are you? The shadow’s features were as indistinct as any other silhouette, but the face… its eyes were piercing, but its mouth was obscured. Shrouded. The shadow tried to speak, but the shroud muffled its words. 

Spencer wanted to ask what it was saying, but he couldn’t gather the nerve. It spoke again, but he couldn’t make out any words. Simply muffled sounds. Spencer took a tentative step forward. The shadow cocked its head. Spencer felt as though his stomach had been turned to ice. Will you let me get close enough to see you?

Another step closer. Spencer bit his bottom lip in anticipation. The hall was silent save for the heart thumping in his own chest. He studied the shadow. With each step, its face became slightly more defined. The shroud over its mouth was starting to take shape… maybe with another step, he’d be able to see-

Ring ring ring! Spencer gasped as his phone blew up with a loud tone and vibrated violently in his pocket. He quickly reached down to hang it up, but when he looked back up, the shadow was gone. Spencer breathed lightly, continuing to step forward. He reached the lip of the concrete ledge and stared into the void of trash receptacles. Where’d you go? 

Then he felt it. A heavy presence behind him. It was breathing over his shoulder. Warm breath. Dry, rasping, crackling breath. It rustled his hair, tickling the back of his neck and causing him to shiver again. Another sharp inhalation was followed by mechanical beats. It laid a cold hand on his shoulder, then Spencer couldn’t move. This isn’t real. Please, don’t let this be real. Its dry, rasping breath grew more harsh. It turned into a cough. It devolved into a wheeze, a hacking.

Spencer could feel another cold appendage sliding its way up his back. Another mechanical inhalation. It slithered over his shoulder, across his chest, then wrapped itself around his throat. He was frozen, unsure if he couldn’t breathe due to the pressure it was exerting on his neck, or something internal. The thing turned his body around so it could face him, ever so slowly. Now face-to-face, Spencer could see into its eyes. They were old eyes. Tired eyes. They used to be human, now they were… they were something different.

The appendage caressed his chin, then continued to slither. Spencer could feel it split into three tendrils. All three gradually felt their way across his skin until… with a sudden jerk, they forced their way into his mouth and nostrils. Spencer gagged as he felt them thrust into him, shoving their way down into his lungs. He flailed his body about, losing his footing in the process and falling over the concrete ledge. As he fell, the shadow’s tendrils swiftly slid their way back out of his nose and throat to let him fall alone. He watched it loom over him just as the back of his head cracked against the bottom of the trash receptacle. 

And then he woke up. He was lying across a couple of chairs pushed together. The room was dark and empty. It was a waiting room. Spencer rose from the uncomfortable chairs and looked around. There was an unmanned nurses’ station and a door labelled “ICU.” A hospital. I know this hospital. He checked his head, and it was fine. He wasn’t here to get his head checked out. Was he actually there at all? 

Spencer looked to the ICU entrance and hesitantly stepped toward it. He pushed the door open. There were no lights on. No crash carts zipping up and down the corridors. Nothing but the moonlight shining in from unoccupied patient rooms. 

As he stood there, his senses became attuned to his surroundings, then he heard one thing. A sharp inhalation followed by two mechanical beats. It was faint. Spencer followed it, and it got louder. He followed the corridor to the only room with its door closed and the curtain drawn. He stood outside the door, listening to the mechanical breathing. 

He reached for the door handle, gently twisting it and slowly pushing it open. The mechanical breathing became clearer, and he saw what was causing it. A nearly pitch black patient room, staffed with a single bed occupied by a withering body. The moonlight streaked across her pale face. She was dying. Another mechanical breath came from a nearby machine. 

The air in the room was stale. It stunk of sickness. It was heavy. Spencer stepped inside where he could see more of the room. There was a couch in the corner where two figures comforted each other. Jenna and her dad. Spencer looked back at Jenna’s mom and watched the ventilator breathing for her.

Ring ring ring! A chill went up his spine. He was back in the basement, looking down at the trash receptacle, one hand on his trash cart, the other holding onto his phone. He looked around to see the room was still poorly lit, but there was no tendriled shadow looming over him- just his phone asking to be answered. 

“Hello?” The line was silent for a minute. 

“Spencer.” 

“Jenna, I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me.”

“I don’t. But the doctors need confirmation.”

“You already know, though.” 

“When did you test positive? Before or after the trip?”

Spencer hesitated, but he knew he had to answer, “Before. But I was asymptomatic, Jenna! You have to understand, I didn’t think-”

“That’s the fucking problem, isn’t it? You didn’t think! You didn’t think about anyone’s life but your own! I begged you every day to stop going out, but you just couldn’t give it up, could you? Couldn’t wash your hands, or clean the kitchen, or wear a fucking mask! All that shit matters, Spencer!”

“...I’m sorry.”

“You should be. You just-” Jenna’s voice cracks, “you just left, Spencer.” 

“I know… Once I realized it was my fault, I couldn’t face you. I just… I just left.”

“Where’d you go? You know what… I don’t care. Rot in Hell.”

The line went dead. Spencer sighed heavily and put his phone back in his pocket. He inhaled a choppy breath and leaned against the cart. Don’t worry, I am. He dumped the trash cart and moved on to his next duty- sanitizing the workspaces. From that day forward, Spencer did his job diligently; he wasn’t particularly skilled, but his heart was in it. He would stalk the halls of his office building and seek out every ounce of grime he could disinfect. But every night, around every corner, down every hallway… Spencer followed the shadow that haunted him, never forgetting the sound of the faint mechanical breathing that sent chills up his spine.