Are you unbothered by the supernatural? Do you have a strong stomach and fascination with the darker side of the world? Macabé Industries is seeking brave souls for our Sanitation Specialist role. As one of our specialists, you will be responsible for cleaning up the messy aftermath of ghost, vampire, werewolf, zombie, and other dangerous creature attacks.

Key Responsibilities:

• Meticulously clean and sanitize sites post supernatural activity
• Dispose of toxic and potentially infectious residues
• Restock anti-monster supplies, cleaners, traps, and poisons
• Collaborate with our hunters and exterminators to ensure safe and effective cleanup
• Available to be on call at any hour of the day or night

Requirements:

• A strong stomach and an even stronger spirit
• Experience in cleaning, janitorial services, or ghost hunting preferred
• Ability to work independently and as part of a team
• Familiarity with supernatural entities
• Must be able to lift 50 lbs (sometimes remnants of supernatural beings can be hefty)

Compensation:

• Sign-on bonus up to twenty-thousand
• Free professional therapy
• A comprehensive health plan, including dental and vision
• Paid time off and company paid vacations every six months
• An exciting work environment where no two jobs are the same

To Apply:

Send a resume, a brief explanation of why you’re not afraid of the dark, and proof of up-to-date vaccinations to careers@macabeindustries.com or for additional information call 555-0666 today.

The van barreled down the highway twenty miles over the speed limit. Headlights illuminated the road before us and the midnight sky beyond was filled with stars, but there was no moon to shine down upon the black landscape. Sipping on my drink, I let the ice cold cola sit in my mouth for a moment before swallowing. My stomach grumbled but I didn’t dare eat anything, not until after. The soda was just going to have to do. Leaning back, I sipped on my drink as the first screams of the music came blaring over the buzzing speakers. I thought that after a month of training, I would feel prepared. I didn’t.

“So fish, ten bucks says you’re going to puke in the first ten minutes.” Josh said from the driver seat.

I looked over at him, one hand on the steering wheel, the other holding a half smoked cigarette. Josh had a wide grin on his scruffy face which showed his three missing molars. There was something cruel in his eyes which intensified as he took a long drag on his cigarette. He blew the smoke out the window and then turned back to me.

“Make it fifty and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Josh’s gap toothed smile widened and he nodded his agreement.

“Looks like Bryce has got some spirit,” Dante’s voice said from behind.

A thick hand reached over my seat and gripped my shoulder. Looking around, I saw Dante, whose dark face was accented by his white beard. He too was giving me an over exaggerated grin. He had a smooth face and a bald scAlp, which, combined with the white beard, made it difficult to tell his age. Despite my curiosity, I was too afraid of him to ask.

The final member of the crew, Charles, was sleeping, a wadded jacket placed between his head and the van’s blacked out window. Behind them, the rest of the fifteen passenger van had been converted into cargo storage. Our gear was organized in storage bins that were strapped down. My eyes lingered on the white plastic hazmat suites that hung on hooks on the back door, the eye coverings of the black gas masks glimmering. I felt my throat tighten, the thought of vomiting while wearing one of them bringing unpleasant memories. Once again, my mind questioned why the training hadn’t been longer.

Just don’t vomit, I thought to myself. Despite the fifty dollar bet, I wasn’t all that confident.

Placing my half empty drink into the cup holder, I turned back around and rested my head against the back of my seat. Looking out the front window, I focussed my eyes on the black asphalt, and kept my attention on the part of the road just ahead of the dull yellow headlights. The reflective yellow paint on the two lane highway was the only color to offset the black of night.

“How much longer Josh?” Dante asked.

“We’ll get there in an hour.”

“Seriously?”

“Why are you in such a rush?”

“I got to take a leak.”

“Fine. We’ll make a stop at the next exit. Speaking of bathroom breaks, fish, you should probably hit the can as well. Trust me, you’re not going to want to shit your pants.”

I rolled my eyes, and opening my mouth, I decided to join in with the fun instead of getting angry. “Why? Don’t you want to make another bet?”

Josh raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and what bet was that?”

“Fifty bucks says in the first ten minutes, I won’t puke or shit myself.”

“Tonight’s going to be fun,” Dante said, his deep chuckling almost sounding evil. “You can count me in on that bet.”

“You got yourself a deal fish.” Josh laughed and flicked his cigarette out the window.

Glancing at the side mirror, I saw sparks as the cigarette butt rolled on the asphalt. The cool night air rushed in through the open window, flushing out the remaining smoke. Rolling down my own window, I took in a few deep breaths. The clean air lasted but a moment. A sudden foul scent drifted in, like rotten fish. The road curved and lining both sides were blooming Joshua Trees. Grimacing, I covered my nose as Josh started to chuckle. I rolled up my window, then glared at Josh. After a moment, he spat out the window, then rolled it up.

“Might as well get used to bad smells, fish.”

“I figure that’s what the gas masks are for.”

“Nothing’s perfect.”

“So, have you ever dealt with a 13-57 before?”

“Of course,” Josh answered. “Dealing with hauntings is perhaps the most common, though it may turn out we are dealing with a 13-58 instead of a 13-57.”

“I thought the execution team verifies the threat before we’re called in. Why would they get it wrong?”

“Hauntings are tricky and the executioners don’t comb through the pieces like we do. But when you get into the nitty gritty, you tend to find a lot of interesting things.”

“A 13-57 is a haunting and a 13-58 is a poltergeist. What’s the difference?”

“Mostly, it has to do with how the ghost got there. Sometimes it is a poltergeist or vengeful spirit that died on the property. Other times it’s a summoning by some dumbass playing around with some aspect of the occult. There is always the possibility that the residents brought the evil with them and are being chased by an evil spirit which would be a 13-59. To be honest, there are dozens of ways that a house might be haunted. I just hope it is a 13-57.”

“That’s because you’re lazy Josh,” Dante said.

“You know that’s right.”

The two chuckled and I smiled, though I didn’t share their jovial attitude. The prospect that this would be easier did make me feel a smidge better.

“Why did you take this job anyway, Bryce?” Dante asked.

“Because it sounded like so much fun,” I answered. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

Josh chuckled and flipped me the bird.

“Just you wait. Stick with this job long enough, you’ll end up with as twisted a sense of humor as the rest of us. Hell, when Dante joined up, he was about as stone faced as they come. Now just look at him.”

“And I had a full head of hair. You think shitting yourself on the job is bad.” Dante leaned forward and rubbed his hand on his bald scAlp. “My hair came out almost all at once. I could have made a wig with it.”

The look on Dante’s face made it difficult for me to tell if he was joking. His eyes were narrow and he had just the faintest smile on his lips.

“I remember that job. That one really sucked.” Josh pulled out another cigarette and placed it in the corner of his mouth. “Was that the 13-79?”

“No, it was the 13-97.”

“The back to back cases that summer all blend together,” Josh pulled the cigarette lighter from the van’s console, and lit the tip of his cigarette. As he puffed, he began to tap his thumb on the steering wheel. “That was one messed up night.”

“A 13-97 is a skinner,” I said. “What makes that so terrifying.”

“Look at fish, knowing all his codes like a good trainee.”

“Don’t take it personal, kid,” Dante said. “Josh is just a dick who can’t read.”

Josh shook his head and flashed Dante his gap toothed smile.

“No worries. What was so bad about that job?” I asked, again.

“Well, the dump ass exterminators didn’t do their job right.” Dante said. “When you run into a vengeful spirit, you’ll know exactly what I am talking about.”

“You’re messing with me.” I let out a nervous laugh. “They don’t call us in unless the exterminators call it clear.”

“Sometimes they don’t get it all right.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Charles said. “It’s not standard protocol, but the boss doesn’t want any chances.”

I looked over my shoulder at him as he was adjusting the rolled up jacket to reform the pillow.

“Bryce, how well did you do on your assessment.”

“I passed.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Fine. I got a perfect score.”

“Oh, great.” Josh said, blowing more smoke. “That means you completely missed the point.”

“What does that mean?”

“There are some things you just can’t teach man. There is a difference between knowing something and knowing something. You got that?”

Not wanting to argue, I nodded.

“Just remember Bryce,” Charales said. “It’s my job to make sure that if any lingering lovelies are lurking about, to dispatch them. If we’re lucky, you’ll get to watch me harvest them.”

My stomach turned and my gut began to tighten.

“Alright, enough trying to scare the new guy.” Dante clapped me on the shoulder again. “If we tell him too much, he might not react as strongly. I want to win this bet.”

Picking up my drink, I took a few long gulps of the cola and then rattled the ice in the oversized plastic cup. With a small sigh, I finished the drink and then pulled off the lid so I could eat the ice. The conversation died out, though Dante continued fidgeting in his seat. I glanced over my shoulder at him and watched him bounce his leg up and down. He snorted and I turned back around, continuing to munch on my ice.

We drove through the darkness for another twenty minutes before we saw the large green sign that signaled a rest stop. Dante and Josh continued to chat, but I tuned them out, looking out the window at the blooming Joshua Trees that looked half dead in the yellow headlights. When we pulled off the highway, we drove up to the small gas station that had four pumps covered by a two pillar supported canopy. The green dinosaur logo was faded and cracked, the lightbulb visible behind the gaps in the plastic.

Climbing out of the car, I ignored the putrid smell of the Joshua Tree blooms, and threw away my empty cup. The small gas station’s convenience store had a red neon sign hanging in the window which read closed. Dante cursed as he hurried over to the door. He slammed his hand against the glass window then looked towards the edge of the lot. With a shrug, he hurried over to the edge of the gas station parking lot and had his pants unzipped before he had reached the brush covered field. As he relieved himself in the bushes, I decided to take Josh’s original advice and joined him.

When I was done, I went back to the van and climbed into the passenger seat. Closing the door, I leaned back and tried to keep any thought from entering my mind. A thunk on the windshield made me jump and I saw Josh smile as he dragged a dirty washing squeegee across the window. The dirty water dripped down and small soap scum bubbles formed on the glass. The squeegee squealed as Josh wiped away the water and soap, leaving behind a window that, though unclean, was free of bug stains.

Hearing the click from the gas pump, I looked over and watched as Josh removed it and placed it back into the cradle. The can lights above cast an orange glow on his face which made Josh look a hell of a lot less friendly. Everyone was silent as Josh got back into the car and started the engine. Adjusting my seat back an inch, I rested my head against the window and let the humming of the engine and the bumping of the stereo soothe me.

Once we were back on the road, it took less than ten minutes before the windshield was as bug-splattered as it had been before. The windshield wipers proved to be unsatisfactory bug splatter removal tools, and they did little more than smear the greasy guts across the window. Josh only made it worse by engaging the windshield wiper fluid which made one large smear across my side of the window. As he cursed, I hid my smile by placing my thumb against the side of my mouth.

We arrived at the edge of a small town at half past three in the morning. There were no lights on in any home and almost no street lamps. It almost seemed like everyone in the town was either asleep or dead. I silently hoped it was the former though part of me knew better.

A small portable radar speed sign lit up as we passed, blinking rapidly. I glanced over at the speedometer and couldn’t help but raise my eyebrows. Josh glared at me. So I shrugged and looked away. Continuing through the small town at three times the legal speed limit, we reached the far edge and pulled off a side street which led up into the hills. The winding road was paved with fresh asphalt which eventually turned into gray bricks. After a mile, we reached a large gate which was lit by several ground lights and an overhanging lamp post. The guardhouse was empty and the emergency key box was smashed open.

The van crawled to a stop and Josh gave me a wide gap toothed grin. “Alright fish, time for you to be useful. Get out and push open the gate.”

Popping open my door, I climbed out and hurried over to the gate. It was much colder outside than I was expecting and my breath frosted. The gate wasn’t locked and several of the bars were bent outward. It took little effort to pull it open and once the van was clear for entry, it pulled through. Josh didn’t stop for me and continued up the drive, leaving me alone, my hands still clutching the cold metal. As the van disappeared around the corner, I felt a chill run down my spine. Shivering, I took a step back and then a shrill scream broke the silence.