“Oh, you have got to be kidding me.”

I scowl around at the line stretching out the doors of the Internal Order Auxiliary Storage facility. It seems that damn near the entire sub-city has shown up for this farcical frivolity. The building has been decorated upon its exterior with what appears to be coarse strings of sheep fleece and enormous plastic arachnids, complete with false corpses wrapped up as meals for the cavy sized predators. Copious quantities of black light splash against the walls from battery powered fixtures temporarily erected for the occasion and illuminating the chalk graffiti scrawled upon the stone. 

What a Dark begotten mess.

“There is no way I am cleaning this up. Merrick should have just vetoed this idea from the start.” I do not even realize I have trailed off into angry mutters of Denzani until I start getting strange looks from some of those waiting in the queue. It shuts me up very quickly, and I turn my irritation toward the pair of technicians manning the front door.

To the left of the doorway, I watch Delgarre of Team Seven usher in another group of individuals, counting six of them as they pass before holding up an arm to forestall any further entrants at this time. They are accompanied by Royce of Team Nine to the right of the door, who has just allowed a group of four to make their exit. 

I take a close look at the group which has just exited, reading their emotional landscapes briefly. Outwardly, they appear to be making jocularity with one another, shoving and taunting loudly. But I can see the tendrils of lurid green which are only beginning to fade from them. This “haunted house” which has taken over the Auxiliary Storage facility seems to have had a definite effect upon them, generating fear and dread within them that they are actively attempting to banish. Hmm. Interesting.

If only it wasn’t so...I turn a caustic gaze upon the building once more...messy. And interfering with my current needs for my job.

I can feel my irritation growing the longer I stand here considering. Nothing for it but to get on with this. Anticipating the headache I can already feel blossoming at the base of my skull, I stride past the line of individuals waiting to be admitted to the attraction without focusing too hard on any of them and place myself very obviously in front of Delgarre.

Based upon their physical reaction of coming to rigid attention, I can tell that Delgarre has spotted my approach. “Sir! How may I help you?” They try to look across the top of my head as I stand before them, but a long overdue growth period has finally increased my diminutive stature. Which means Delgarre is staring into my eyes instead. Not that my eyes can really be seen, hidden as they are behind the darkened lenses of my goggles, but Delgarre still seems surprised and tries to avert their gaze to anywhere other than my face.

“I need replacement sensors for first stage air and water intake systems for all stations,” I growl. It is more explanation than I would ordinarily need to give.

Delgarre gives an audible gulp and looks toward Royce, who says nothing. “Y...yes, sir. Uhm...I think that’s where we set up...the lab…” They trail off uncertainly and I feel my eyes narrow to slits in irritation. “There’s probably a lot of...civilians…”

A tightness just beneath my skin tells me I am a hair’s breadth from erupting at the technician before me. “Are you denying me entry?” I ask with deadly calm words, not even bothering to hide my mounting anger.

“No, sir!” I can practically smell the fear I see rolling across Delgarre. “Apologies, sir! Please, go right in!” They step aside in haste, practically stumbling over their own feet. I say nothing in reply, instead riding the wave of my irritation past the technician and into the darkened interior of the facility.

What I find inside is nothing at all like what I am accustomed to finding from this facility. Instead of opening into a large bay with small workstations about the perimeter, I step into a small chamber with temporary walls fashioned from heavy draperies hung from the beam nearly two stories above. The group of six I saw previously enter are just departing to my left down a small corridor of billowing fabric. A black light has been set up in the corner to illuminate some paint that has been splattered across the panels, including some handprints and what appears to be a cautionary warning that I scoff at.

“Oh, please. Lycanthropes and boogeymen? These fairy tales have nothing on reality.” 

I proceed to trail the group of six through the winding corridors of the purportedly scary event with a scowl firmly fixed in place. It irritates me that I must endure these individuals in a public works facility. What was Merrick thinking when he allowed this farce to set up in the main storage facility for all of IO? And further, what is the purpose of this attraction? Is IO gaining revenue from it? And why would anyone be interested in these cheap frights? A giddy human dressed in a fur suit or wearing a bedsheet holds no real fear for me, so I cannot fathom why it is so terrifying to the group before me. Not when there are real monsters in the world.

When I am allowed to exist, for that matter.

An idle thought amuses me for a brief moment: perhaps I should manifest my scaling and participate. That would very definitely give these pathetic humans a severe fright. But that would likely lead to sensory overload for me, which would be no amusement. Just trailing after this group is already trying to convert my headache into a full blown migraine from the amount of emotional detritus they are leaving in their wake. No, I just want to acquire the suite of sensors I require for my job and get out of this ridiculous attraction.

And so I find myself passing through room after room, through various scenes of fake gore, staged carnage, imagined spooks, and fanciful creatures. Occasionally, someone will leap out or emerge from seeming camouflage and startle the group I am following. I see it coming every time; one cannot mask one’s emotional landscape, and thus there is no element of surprise. The “fake” corpse on the surgical table is not startling when one can discern that there is a whorl of anticipation denoting a living being who is ready to rise up to offer fright. And the one individual who even bothers to try and leap out at me merely gets a narrowed glare and stony refusal to react. This is the epitome of boring.

Finally, after what feels like the slowest half hour of my existence, we wind our way through room after dull room of fakery and make believe to arrive at the workdesk housing the storage of the sensor chips. Here do I finally deviate from my path. Ignoring the events of the room, which seems to be made up in a theme of a mad scientist’s laboratory, I move with sure steps to the workbench and begin to pull open the drawers in search of the thin wafers of silicon which serve as the monitoring sensors for the air and water systems.

“Excuse me.” 

I ignore the voice, instead focusing on finding what I seek. The sooner I find those sensor chips, the sooner I can exit this idiotic attraction. 

“Excuse me. I’m sorry, but please don’t touch the equipment.”

My control snaps with an almost physical sensation. I slam my hand down on the workbench with a crack that echoes up to the rafters. A snarl bubbles in my chest as I whirl on the unfortunate individual. “Unless you have 14 type QC silicon sensor wafers hiding beneath your costume, I suggest you back away and let me do my damn job!”

The individual lets out a shriek of pure terror that I can see as a forest of sickly green tendrils that spring forth from their core to try and tangle about anything within reach. They stumble back from me, falling to the floor as they get their limbs tangled with their costume. I feel my inner predator surge as they scramble backward and I have to stomp down an urge to stalk after that source of fear. The acrid stench of urine drifts up to my nose, making my eyes water involuntarily. Chaos begins to erupt around me as the rest of the human herd answers the alarm call of the individual before me and people begin running into this chamber. The noise begins to grow, quickly approaching unbearable, and I inadvertently chitter an invective in Denzani that throws a new spike of fear into the supine individual.

“Where are those damn sensor wafers?” I growl as I turn back to the workbench. Because if I stare at the gathering crowd any longer, I am either going to turn into a ravening monster myself or drop in sensory overload. Neither of which would be good.

A small black light torch gets illuminated behind me, throwing the shadow of my silhouette into bold relief against the backdrop of the workbench. I hear a couple of muted gasps and a quickly stifled scream that makes me flinch, but I do not turn from my efforts to find those damnable wafers. Some whispers reach my ears, though I cannot discern much from them other than that people are speaking to one another.

“Finally!” The cry of success wrenches out of me as I open the correct drawer on the workbench at long last. I draw forth the small waxed envelopes holding the wafers as quickly as I can, stuffing seven air sensors into my right pocket and seven water sensors into the left. Another invective chirrups out of me at how long it took to locate those and cursing the general inconvenience of having this event interfering with my ability to perform my task in a timely fashion. The murmurs behind me increase in unease at the alien strains of my native tongue.

I hazard a peek over my shoulder, checking to see if that damnable black light is going to hit me square in the eyes, and a collective yelp sounds from the small crowd gathered across the chamber. The general fear permeating the room has me on edge already, and it takes everything I have to not manifest my personal protections in the wake of that sound of alarm. Someone starts crying, gibbering in unadulterated terror, and I hear more than one individual curse. 

“Sir. If you are finished with gathering the necessary materials, may I escort you out?”

I recognize that calm, modulated tone. “Jakara. Thank the Dark. Yes. But only if you get that Dark blighted light out of my face.” While it is not hitting me directly in the eyes, it is annoying enough that the words are carried on a snarl of pain. My headache has definitely built into a full fledged migraine as the emotions flooding the room slam into my perceptions with all the force of a sledgehammer. 

I hear one of the whispers clearly as Jakara swings the light off my face, and I have a glimpse of insight into why nearly 20 individuals are cowering before me on the floor. “What the hell? How are his eyes doing that?”

Ah. Yes. I feel a smug smile try to curl up the very corners of my mouth. That would do it. The fluorescing properties of my mucosal secretions, combined with the watering of my eyes in the presence of the strong ammonia stench of urine, probably are causing eyeshine in the presence of the black light. That interesting notion restores a bit of my dark humor as I step over to Jakara. 

“Lead on,” I order with brusque authority. The gathered huddle on the floor are summarily ignored as Jakara begins to escort me out of the chamber and through the rest of the labyrinthine collection of temporary rooms. We pass other groups on the way out, with Jakara occasionally issuing a terse order to someone as we pass. I ignore it. All of it. This nonsense is wearying. And I still have four more hours on shift to navigate. Now with the added bonus of a migraine.

It is a profound relief when Jakara finally leads me out the exit door and past Royce. She pauses and turns to me, dropping immediately into the parade rest stance that is her hallmark. “Do you require anything else at this time, sir?” 

“Make sure the clean up of this absurd distraction does not interfere with normal scheduling,” I snap. “How much longer is this damn thing going to interfere with routine operations?”

“Three more nights, sir,” Jakara replies crisply. 

“Dark preserve,” I swear under my breath. Three more nights. I fervently pray to the Dark that we do not have a major equipment failure during that time. And then, I bark out a laugh. “Well, at least one good thing came out of this.” Jakara remains impassive, but I can see the inquiry swirling like a pale yellow serpent about the inside of her head. “I have learned something new. Apparently, one of the monsters inside this sham of an attraction is real. But I cannot waste any more time here. They will just have to continue on without me and the fake ones will continue to suffice. Dismissed.”

I leave Jakara confused in the middle of the throughway, a wry chuckle on my lips playing counterpoint to the pounding ache in my head and the deep dark hole where my heart should be.