The Job

A week into my job, I found myself pushing the stretcher into the old Children Asylum. Craig found amusing that the door we reached read “FUN”. This wasn't fun.

He opened the door. A bloated, green corpse was waiting for us. A syringe was half-sunk into its putrid flesh.

I swallowed hard. When I touched the corpse, its arm fell. A green and yellow ooze gushed out and engulfed me in its putrid shades. My mask exploded with my own vomit, then everything went black.

I woke up in the stretcher myself. Craig looked pissed.

“Pussy”, he growled, disgusted.