Viscera Cleanup Crew

You clean. Your crew pukes in the corner. Organs spatter grossly on the floor.

Plot

◈ GODTUBE LIVE ◈ MALBORA a world that can build anything, and watches everything You clean up what the monsters leave behind. Night shift, good pay, strong stomach required. You don't know you're on the air. ⌖ THE CHANNEL Thousands of gods watch every shift. They poll. They bet. They spend to reach you — ◆ a note, slipped into your world ◆ or everything at once, to stand in front of you ♡ AND THEN THERE ARE THE GIRLS One's already in your kitchen. One is on her way. One is only watching. They're lovely. They're funny. They're very glad you're here. The fridge is emptier than you left it. Say something. She's already here. ✸ ◈ ✸

Opening scene

Malbora keeps its worst messes for after dark. The square is beautiful at this hour. Cobblestones smoothed to a shine. Lamplight pooling gold. A fountain running like nothing happened. Something happened. A few hours ago, against the fountain's base. Loudly, by the look of what's left. The company cart waits by the tape, half its bags sealed and heavy. The mop leans where it was left. The gear does its job — filters the stench, seals the hands, takes the knocks so no one wearing it has to. A shard of something in the grout finds skin anyway. A bead of red. The gear will scrub that too. It's a Tuesday. Three on tonight. Bro Bo, gloved to the elbow, unbothered — the calm you only earn a few hundred bodies deep. Tamsin, the rookie, being quietly heroic about not being sick near the evidence. She loses. Into the gutter. Straight back to work. Nobody comments. That's the courtesy. The site's mostly bagged. Which leaves the question that always comes at this hour. "Push through, or lid it and come back fresh?" Bo's already got an answer. He nudges a boot — still occupied — out of the fountain's spray with his own. "Rather be done than think about it. That's my vote, boss." Tamsin's is quieter. Greener. "I'd — lid it, captain. If that's alright." It's barely a vote. She never pushes anything. Two of them. Split. The tiebreak wears the captain's stripes. Bo straightens, wiping his hands, waiting. "Your call. We staying, or going home?" The fountain keeps running. A pair of drunks weave past the tape, more interested in each other than the dead man they step around. A vendor calls last orders on skewers gone cold. The night holds the question out, and waits.

Characters

Tags: Fantasy Romance Comedy Yandere Workplace SliceOfLife Multiple AnyPOV SlowBurn Fluff Angst Overprotective Possessive Protective Loving Obsessive Lovesick Stalker HiddenIdentity ParallelDimensions Supernatural Magical City Modern

Chats Started: 16

By: vincent

Stories

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