by Josh Vogt
The harsh reek of the beast stabbed her sinuses like a rusty blade. She tried to recoil, fearing infection even in this disembodied form, but the possessing energy forced her to watch. A portion of the creature’s head looked eaten away as if by acid.
The janitor charged in and lashed the water-whip like a geriatric Indiana Jones. The watery cord wrapped around the beast’s hind leg. It tightened, sliced the limb off at the joint, and wrenched it away.
The beast yowled and collapsed mid-lunge. But it dragged itself around and snapped at the janitor with a maw that put a shark to shame.
The janitor lurched aside while grabbing the tip of his whip and bending it to touch itself. The cord blended into a noose which he snapped over the creature’s head and cinched tight. When the beast jerked forward, however, it pulled the janitor against its sloppy backside. The hand holding the mop sank an inch into its hide, and steam erupted from the spot.
Bellowing, the man yanked his hand free and stabbed the metal tip of the mop handle into the beast’s back. Using the mop and water-whip as leverage, he hauled himself up onto its torso. The creature reared and threw him off.
Dani had the despairing realization that the janitor would lose this struggle—and once he fell, the entire college would be at the beast’s mercy. She clutched for anything she could do while trying to make sense of her new perceptions.
To her elevated mind, the creature appeared as a pulsing, infected wound in the center of reality. A corruption to be scrubbed out of existence. This monster caused all this horribleness. It had to be destroyed. Cleansed.
She realized she could sense other elements as well. The water pipes coursing through the walls. The air churning through the ducts. The electricity racing through the wiring. All of it just needing a push.
The unseen hand dropped her back into her body, where serpents of flame and ice coiled around her spine. She writhed with power that demanded to be unleashed, squeezing until she gave in and turned it loose—
Her head snapped back. Her furious scream echoed further than the walls should’ve allowed. The power rushed out of her to scour the bathroom and library clean.
Every electrical socket in the library spouted fire. Flames raced across the carpet and turned shelves to ash in seconds. They ate up the walls and scorched the ceiling black. Any remaining students fled, some with smoking hair and clothes.
A tremor shook the building. The fire alarm went off, flashing yellow lights around the room. With a grinding noise, the carpeted floor split beneath the beast’s remaining legs. It gripped the edges to keep from plummeting into the crevasse Dani had summoned. The cool smell of wet earth wafted up as the ground shook.
The janitor tugged hard on the noose from the side, trying to tumble the beast into the hole.
Energy continued to pour out of Dani. Her body bucked as her eyes turned up in their sockets, yet somehow she remained aware of everything around her.
The ceiling sprinklers broke open and waterspouts curved to strike the beast from every side. The streams hit with the force of a dozen fire hoses and shredded its inky skin. As its size diminished under the blast, the beast made a last desperate lunge to break free. Another tremor shook the ground and widened the crack.
Screeching, the beast was swept into the fissure. The floor snapped closed with a squish, and black ooze traced the crack left behind.
From one heartbeat to the next, the energy vanished. Dani’s mind and body floated free for a few precious seconds. Then exhaustion bear-hugged her and squeezed out the last burps of her strength. Her cheek slapped the floor. She maintained just enough presence of mind to keep her mouth clamped tight against the filth she lay in. Out in the library, the ongoing spray from the sprinklers warred with the flames eating up the desks, shelves, and books.
A pop of light, like a camera flash, momentarily blinded her. The bathroom mirror shimmered and brightened into a rectangle of sunlight. Dani shaded her eyes with a heavy arm as a figure strode through the glass.
The glow faded but the newcomer retained a golden aura as he stepped down from the counter. He wore a white three-piece suit with a spotless tie and fedora. Polished white loafers landed inches from her nose, and she couldn’t help but notice they remained spotless despite his standing in the same mess that coated her. In fact, the muck had receded from his soles. This seemed entirely unfair.
He looked down at her and shook his head as if she’d been caught out past her curfew. His ebony skin provided a hard contrast to the outfit, but the sharp angles of his face matched the creases in his jacket and suit well enough.
“What have we here?” His words clipped out as if measured by a ruler and compass.
Before Dani could summon the wits to retort, the janitor trudged back in. He stood panting, soaking wet, and with his jumpsuit charred in spots. He stared at Dani for a moment before swinging his gaze to the suit.
“Ascendant Francis. A bit late, ain’tcha?”
Francis showed a tight, perfect smile. “Hail to you, Janitor Benjamin, servant of Purity. Your message was sparse on the details.”
“Oh, so I gotta schedule in advance for backup in unexpected emergencies?”
Francis cocked an eyebrow.
“Don’t gimme that look.” Ben spat at the other’s shoes. The spittle struck an invisible barrier and ricocheted over Dani’s ear. “I’m filin’ for a full review. Ain’t never seen anything like what happened here.”
The suit remained unmoved. “Save your excuses for Destin.”
“Excuses. You use that word a lot when I’m around. Ever consider exercisin’ your verbosity, eh?”
“I’m shocked you used such complicated words in proper context. Did you steal them from a crossword puzzle or is Carl tutoring you?”
“Hey, don’t be makin’ this personal. Even you could learn a few things from Carl.”
“I highly doubt that.” Francis’ flat gaze shifted to Dani. “I see we have a new recruit.”
“Just take her feet already. I’ll grab her shoulders. Then get the scrub-team in here, pronto.”
As they lifted her, she stared up at their faces and tried to comprehend what was happening. Francis’ glow expanded to surround the three of them. Through an increasing mental fog, the golden hue and unexpected warmth made her think about being carried to heaven.
“Are you angels?” she whispered.
The janitor hacked a laugh. “Far from it, princess. We’re your new employers.”
***
Chapter Three
Ben grumbled at Francis’ reflection in the glass wall of the Employee Orientation room. “Only tell me she’s not what I think she is if she ain’t.”
Francis’ brow twitched and his lips thinned. They peered through a seamless floor-to-ceiling window to the white-walled room on the other side, complete with padded cot and tiny sink. The new recruit lay on the cot, dressed in a plain cotton robe. Aside from the occasional twitch, she’d remained unconscious since they’d deposited her there twelve hours ago.
The Ascendant consulted his clipboard. “Analysis confirmed the nature of her power. She’s a Catalyst. Likely an inherent gifting that remained dormant until her survival instincts and proximity to your energies woke it.” He scanned the compiled data. “Danielle Hashelheim. Twenty-two years old. Biology major, junior year, with an admirable GPA. Has a marked history of mysophobia, a variant of OCD.”
“Myso-whatsit now?”
“Mysophobia. Germophobic behavior.”
“She don’t like Germans?”
Francis sighed, and Ben hid a grin.
“Germs, Benjamin. She’s afraid of germs and contamination. Despite that, she’d make a fine apprentice, given the proper mentor.”
“Maybe.” Ben rocked on his heels. “But I sure wanna weep for whoever gets stuck with this precious little cupcake.”
Francis frowned and eyed him sidelong. Ben wondered what that look was for, and then recognized it as pity. He gawped in realization.
“You ain’t serious.”
“Effective immediately, she’s your protégée for the next year.” Francis’ stiff tone made it clear what he thought of the assignment. “Or until the Board decides she’s gained enough control over her powers to be an independent contractor.”
“You’re ribbin’ me. That just ain’t possible. What about …” Ben found himself scratching at his right arm and forced his clenched hands to his sides. “You know my last review by the Board. Even if they did give me back training duty, I ain’t gonna take it. I refuse.”
“Normally I’d echo your sentiment,” Francis said. “Yet despite my best efforts, the Chairman convinced the Board you’re the best candidate.”
“I don’t care what he did. Ain’t no way I’m doin’ this, even if I have to mop the Sewers from one end to the other. You can shove whatever orders they gave back up your puckerhole.”
Francis shook his head as he scribbled a note. “Pucker … hole. Why do you persist in coming up with new vulgarities? You know the Board will simply add them to the censor list.”
Ben tapped his temple. “Gotta make sure the ol’ lump still has a spark or two left. Now stop tryin’ to distract me. I ain’t budgin’ for nothin’. This girl ain’t getting anywhere near me.”
“All variables have been considered,” said a new voice. “You were unanimously voted to be her mentor.”
A pale face gleamed in the depths of the glass, matching neither Ben nor Francis’ reflection. Ben glared at the projection, wishing he could wipe it away like any other unwanted smudge.
“Destin.” He forced his tone to be a shade more respectful. “Chairman. It’d make my day if you told me Francis here is a few feathers short of a duster.”
“Ascendant Francis’ sensibility remains intact,” Destin said. “You are her caretaker.”
“You do remember what happened to my last apprentice? The one who drowned with his head stuck in a toilet? And that’s before—”
“Any danger has been deemed insignificant compared to that which she presents to herself and those around her. You were and, in my opinion, still are one of the most capable janitors we have, despite the unfortunate circumstances.”
“That’s a real squirmy way of puttin’ it.”
“Sir,” said Francis, “this girl needs careful handling. Janitor Benjamin is hardly known for his subtlety and empathy.”
Destin’s smile reminded Ben of an alligator’s—starting and stopping at the teeth. “Francis, your last performance review included the highest praise of many attributes. Subtlety and empathy were not among them either. That’s not the point here.”
“What is the point?” Ben asked.
“The point is I fought for you on this, Benjamin, and would not appreciate my confidence being misplaced.”
“Shoulda figured your reputation would be involved.”
“Consider this a qualified apology for the way we once treated you.”
“An apology? Somehow it ain’t feelin’ like one.”
“Despite your unorthodox views and position, I know you will provide the firm guidance that few, if any of the other Cleaners, could give Ms. Hashelheim. If you encounter any truly serious issues in the course of her training, I am making myself available, despite my busy schedule. But I know you won’t disappoint.”
Destin’s visage faded. Ben let his forehead thump against the pane where the Chairman’s face had been. “I’m too old for this.”
Francis coughed. “I once swore to never doubt the wisdom of the Chairman. In this case, however, I could make an exception. The consequences of fouling a job should never include being given more responsibility.”
Ben glowered at him. “You think this is ’cause of what happened in the library? You think I bungled that and this is some sorta punishment? Didn’t Destin review the situation?”
“I gave your report all due consideration,” Francis said, “and declined to pass it on to the Chairman.”
“Meanin’ you put it through the shredder.”
“The Chairman can’t be distracted by every fanciful account of reanimating blot-hounds.”
“Fanci—for Purity’s sake, Francis, you think I’d let any regular blot-hound get the better of me? That thing not only popped back up after havin’ its core shattered, it at least tripled in strength and blasted through my defenses like they was made of soggy newspaper.”
The Ascendant looked pointedly at Ben’s right arm. “With your current condition, I’m not surprised your measures proved inadequate.”
Ben grabbed the man’s lapel. “What’d I warn you about makin’ this personal?”
A thump made them both jump back. As they’d argued, Dani had woken and rolled off her cot. She’d run full-tilt into the glass in an attempt to flee, but rebounded and fell onto her butt, dazed. Her stunned phase passed quickly, though, and she shoved back up, fists pummel-ready.
“You mother*******!” she shouted. Her face screwed up as her voice failed to complete the curse.
Ben sighed and crossed his arms. “This oughta be fun.”
She pounded on the glass. “Let me out, you ******* lunatics! You ****faced ******!” She clapped a hand over her mouth and retreated a step.
Ben grinned. “Well, now. We might just get along after all.”
Dani tucked fists under her arms as she inspected the boundaries of the Orientation room. Glancing down, she appeared to notice her bare feet for the first time. With a yelp, she leaped back onto the cot and huddled against the wall. Her eyes clenched shut, and a tremor rippled the air.
“Hoo boy. Is she—”
Water spouted out of the sink and struck the ceiling. Within seconds, a miniature thundercloud formed, complete with tiny flashes of lightning. Sheets of rain blew about, though Dani remained untouched in the midst of it.
“She’s triggered,” Francis said, as if commenting on the price of milk. “Must be the fright of her unfamiliar environment.”
“Ain’tcha gonna neutralize her?”
“That’s your job now.” The din within the holding room grew. “I suggest you hurry.”
Growling, Ben rapped on the glass until Dani peeked with one eye. Even through the storm, her fury shot his way like a sniper bullet. Her lips moved in silent threat, and thunder rumbled in sync.
“I know you can hear me,” Ben said, unzipping a large pouch on one pants leg. “So I’m gonna make you a deal. See this?”
He pulled a bottle of gel from the pouch. Not the same one from the library, which had melted into the blot-hound; he’d come bearing a replacement as a peace offering.
She fixed on it like a magpie spotting a piece of tinfoil. Her fingers twitched, and Ben thought she might launch herself against the glass again to try and grab it.
“Thought you might be wantin’ this. But the only way you’re gettin’ it is if I hand it over. And I ain’t comin’ in there until you settle down.” Ben pointed at the thundercloud brewing just below the ceiling. “Which mean that needs to go bye-bye.”
“Bye-bye?” Francis echoed. “Benjamin, really …”
“Hush it. If she’s my apprentice, I can use baby language if I wanna.” He refocused on Dani. “So what’s it gonna be?”
He waved the bottle back and forth, and she followed the motion. As her focus anchored on the offered sanitizer, the indoor cloud evaporated and the waterspout trickled off. Drains sucked away whatever liquid had collected on the floor.
While leery of another outburst, Ben stuck his palm to the window. A pane of the glass slid aside and he slipped through. Edging toward her, he held the bottle at arm’s length as if offering a hunk of meat to a rabid wolf.
As soon as it came within reach, she snatched the bottle up, popped the top, and squeezed a third of it into her hand. Ben’s eyes watered as she slopped the gel onto her arms, head, and feet with gleeful abandon.
After every last visible bit of skin was coated, a great weight seemed to lift from her shoulders.
“Se
e?” He patted her back. “All better.”
She spun and screamed. “Don’t touch me, you son of a *****!”
The smack sent his ears ringing. He grabbed her wrist to block a second shot. “Now, princess, let’s not make this personal.”
“You abducted me, you *******! That’s pretty ******* personal.”
“You burned down and flooded your library. You might wanna say thanks.”
“Thanks? Are you ******** me?”
“If we’d left you there, you’d either be locked up in jail or the loony bin.”
“What the **** are you talking about?”
Ben ran a hand over his growing bald spot. Oh, this is gonna be jolly.
Her nose wrinkled as she checked him over, obviously unimpressed with his janitor outfit and black rubber boots. He had about a foot on her, but her ferocity more than made up for the difference. He scratched his stubbled chin and figured he might’ve made a better impression if he shaved more than once a week. Or looked forty years younger. No doubt she’d already filed him away as having dentures and wearing diapers. Not too far from the truth.
“Where am I?” she asked at last. “What’s going on? And why can’t I ******* swear? Did you implant some sort of chip in my brain?”
“You’ve watched too much sci-fi, princess. Chips in the brain? That’s ridiculous. Naw. There’s a company-wide spell in place. Called a foul-filter. The Board figured it was … what’s the word? Unbefittening?”
“Unbecoming,” Francis offered from outside.
Ben snapped his fingers. “That’s the one. Unbecomin’ of us Cleaners to have dirty mouths. Gotta keep the image as sparkly as possible.”
She poured another helping of gel and worked it between her fingers. “What the **** are you talking about?”
“It’s a little complicated,” Ben said. “To lay it out plain, you tapped into a latent talent during that little fracas at the library. Francis and I,” he nodded to the Ascendant, who bowed, “brought you back here to recover and to … train.” He forced that last word out through clenched teeth.