Millicent has seen all sorts of tish step down into his awful workshop. From poor and desperate individuals to punks that wanted an upgrade and everyone in between, he's given all a new limb or fixed an old one at the behest of his employer. Trying to clean the workshop never allowed him the comfort of forgetting that.

He was hard at work pushing the soapy sponge with and against the grain of the oak working table; he was almost too preoccupied washing away the memories and blood to hear the only way out open and let someone in.

That didn’t stop his work though. Millicent only paused to hear the chatter coming from the other end of level. He couldn’t understand what was said (Even if the two voices he heard were closer, he doubted they were speaking Sitos), but they sounded quite alarmed by the space. Nothing new there. Millicent was in for a slight surprise, however, when he looked up from his work.

He will admit it was rather unusual to have two people (Nilbanaans no less) make their way down carrying a large carpet over to him. Silee usually lead two or three individuals down; made them carry the hacksaws as well.

There was a small opening for that kind of thing just off to the left of the body shop, but for whatever reason, the Nilbanaans brought the lump over to his table, and dropped it as soon as they had the chance, soaking it in blood and soap.

Millicent was lucky he pulled his hand away in time, but his cleaning tool was not; it was now stuck underneath that fabric lump, deprived of its purpose.

Confused, surprised, and only slightly irritated, the Shnifin looked up at the Nilbanaans. They spared a glance at Millicent before the shorter woman grabbed the tall one’s hand to drag her out of the hole of a shop.

“…What the chuf?”

Millicent hunched over the large lump, debating whether to reach out a hand or two to grab it or not. His eyes then trailed to the left of the lump and widened at the sight of unusual looking shoes.

He had no idea how he knew those lacey monstrosities were shoes, or which end of the carpet to pull upward, but this led him to unravel it and the truth behind its purpose.

There was an unfamiliar, chuffed up, dead body wrapped into it.

Now, Millicent had seen many dead creatures before, basically worked with them every day, but this was a real piece of work. The legs were twisted in three different directions, blood staining each coordinating carpet area. One foot missed a shoe, the other faced the opposite direction. There were scraps of some blue fabric desperately clinging to the unnaturally curved legs.

Both arms were bent with so much force that the bones in their forearms were snapped into jagged halves. One of the arms dangled on the table’s ledge by a little bit of skin before Millicent gently placed it on the body’s torso, which suffered its fair share of gashes of scrapes that were barely hidden by the shredded teal shirt.

Something did a number on this poor creature, and Millicent’s pity only increased at the fact that he couldn’t identify this creature. It had too few eyes to be a Nishad, was too short to be a Magern, had too many legs to be a Lytia, and not nearly enough arms to be a Shnifin.

That last thought made Millicent realize that he had yet to let go of that arm. He had been rubbing circles in the wrist, amazed at the contrast of smooth, soft skin under his thumb and the somewhat scaly but definitely hairy skin held in his palm.

“What the chuf…?”

His eyes left the lumps of fat on the torso (Breasts; some species had females with that characteristic, Millicent recalled), traced the twisted collarbones, the crooked neck, and met the glazed gray stare of the creature in question.

Despite the bent legs, the disjointed arms, the ratted and matted dead protein strands Silee called “hair,” the face of the corpse was so calm.

Unlike the rest of the body, it appeared that every muscle in the head and face was completely slack, devoid of signs of life existing now, or ever existing before.

A rusty, curled tuft of hair obscured Millicent’s view of the second eye. He moved to push it aside.

“Don’t get any weird ideas, freak.”

Millicent sat straight up and snapped his eyes to the pure blue light in front of him. Strangely enough, it resembled the outline of the unfamiliar, chuffed up, dead body that draped his work table.

Only it was standing up, sneering at Millicent, and had just spoken to him from the other side of the room.