The Edge of Chloe's hand rested against a metal desk, one that seemed to grow in temperature every passing second. The scent of burnt coffee and toner filled her lungs with each breath that she dared to pull into her lungs.

The girl regretted throwing on a blazer for an interview of this nature; one where she sat stranded on an old creaky chair that could give under her weight at any moment. But she had been taught to be professional- to keep her back straight and eye contact strong, even if sweat started to collect at her collarbone and soak through the fabric of her shirt.

The man across from her had a deep look of content on his face, a large greying mustache took up most of his upper lip, but his eyes were kind, Chloe decided. They were aged like he had seen twice as much as his age allowed. His skin was tan, hair a deep pitch as if it had been dyed more than enough times to cause the color to set.

"This is a very extensive resume, Miss?"

"Beale," the ginger pulled herself away from her thoughts quickly "Chole Beale."

The man let out a small huff of air. He had a thick southern accent, unlike most people in this area. It was almost comforting, seeing him lean forward with a sigh as he placed the paper back on the crowded desk. The girl got a good look at his hands- scraped and caked in dirt.

"Well, Chole" He spoke gruffly "You're more than qualified for a position here. But I don't see why you would want one."

The redhead drew in a breath, a sharp one that burned her throat. She almost forgot about the thick stench that penetrated every inch of the small building at the edge of the property. The man had a right to ask a question like that- such a put together girl was never seen applying for a job at a cemetery. Not one at the edge of town away from all the nightlife.

"I uh," She tried to take up most of the dead air between them. "It works with my schedule. I'm very serious about school, and no one else would take me because of that."

He lifted his chin slightly, his eyes curious. "The night position is fairly easy if you would like to try your hand at it. It's quiet, though, I must warn you."

A certain light moved to Chole's eyes. One that she hadn't had after the many calls informing her that it 'just wouldn't work out'. This was a college town, one where all the acceptable barista jobs and waiter positions had been filled the second the building had been established. This was her last hope as her student loans continued to gain interest.

"Yeah," Chole shook her head quickly "Yes, I'm very interested."

"Good," the man stood, the whole entire chair creaking like it had been under such a strain. He was taller than Chole though, his dirty old flannel rested over a white tinted shirt. A yellowed ring of sweat moved against his collar, but he didn't seem to mind. The younger girl stood with him, still having to peer up at him. "You start tonight, I have a few t-shirts in the back in case you don't want to get that one there dirty. But you'll figure out what works best for you."

The ginger nodded quickly, not expecting to be thrown into the business full force. There wasn't much room to misstep here, she wanted to keep good company with the only other person she had seen her whole entire time here. Quite literally with the office being so small and cramped.

She followed the man, Mr. Gallagher, out into the sunny edges of the lot. There was a small little building that she had been waiting in, but other than that it seemed to be a long stretch of deep colored grass. It was mowed and trimmed to pristine condition- the Irish setting being broken apart by deep marble stones. Chole couldn't tell how old they were, but limestone was beginning to rot on some of the crooked slabs.

"This place has been in my family for as long as I can remember." Gallagher huffed "My own father started out as a gravedigger and fell in love with the peacefulness of the place."

Chole nodded, glancing around as she tried her hardest not to step near any of the graves. She was always taught that that was disrespectful- not as bad as dancing and throwing a party, but still bad. The man in front of her didn't seem to care where his footfalls landed.

The two of them came upon a medium sized shed, the deep orange light from the sun began to fade behind nearby tree's, a large wrought iron fence created odd lined shadows against now blue grass. He was messing with his keys as he spoke. "You have to be here at seven sharp, every night that you're needed. You'll get an email letting you know if you are."

"Okay," Chole nodded, trying to take in all the information.

Gallagher pulled open the dusty shed, the creaking of the door making the young adult cringe against the sound. He wasn't bothered though, his large hand pulling the small string that connected to a small bulb. It cast a deep golden haze against shelves filled with different tools and lockboxes. A large red mower was resting in the center of the room, half covered by a deep blue tarp.

"You leave when you finish." The man turned to face the girl "It could be one grave, or it could be five. But it's rarely five."

He grasped a pair of deep black leather gloves and passed them Chole's way, she eyed them for a few seconds before taking a hold of the shovel that he thrust her way. It was heavier than she expected, but she didn't let it show. The man started to dig around one of the shelves as Chole watched carefully.

"If there are more than five, then expect some company. If not, then you better get used to the quiet."

Gallagher turned to face her for a few seconds, placing a leathered holster in her hands. This was a shock to her, her father used to place on of these on the end table whenever he got home from a long day at the office. It was undeniable that this thing could pack some serious heat. Chole didn't have a gun license, nor did she think she would need one for a job like this.

"There here will keep you safe." The man held up a taser, it's end was yellowed, a few red buttons interrupting the pitch plastic. "Chances are you won't need to use it. But if you ever have to pull this trigger the next thing you do is call me. Are we clear?"

"Crystal." Chloe choked out, trying her best to swallow the anxiety "So it'll just be me then?"

"It'll just be you." He tossed her the keys to the shed, she struggled to shift everything to the other hand as she grasped the cold metal. It was fairly easy, the spring heat biting at the edge of her neck as Gallagher walked past her, "Good Luck Beale."

She drew in a sharp breath as she watched him walk away. Luck? She was going to need a little more than that.