It was a sleepy Monday morning, at a time when the world was just beginning to wake up. Birdsong filled the orange sky as the sun rose over the city. Oliver Redgrave, first-class personal assistant, had just got into work. He was an average-sized man with brown hair and brown eyes, surrounded by youthful, peach coloured skin. The main focal point of his look, however, was a pair of bags under his eyes that drew more attention to themselves than the rest of him.

After climbing several staircases because the lift was under repair, he settled down in his office, a small room with everything that he could need, and a window that had its blinds drawn. Pulling at the strings, he opened the shutters to let the morning light in. It always felt stuffy in the room after it had been closed up for the night, he thought while stretching and leaning back in his chair to prepare himself for whatever was going to be thrown at him today. As he was usually the first person there, it was his job to check the emails, double check appointment dates, and most importantly start brewing a fresh pot of coffee for the long workday ahead.

Despite the abject look of over-work plastered across his face at all times, his boss wasn't a demanding person when compared to other high-status CEO's and managers he'd been passed around to at the beginning of his career, but she could give him quite the list of jobs to do if she felt like it. That or she didn't understand the idea of a 'mandated break'. Knowing her as long as he had, Oliver thought that she genuinely might not have any idea that he is, in fact, entitled to a thirty-minute break at some point during the day. He muttered to himself about asking for one later while making the morning coffee but decided against it on account of his boss being a very intimidating lady to behold. Taking a firm sip from his "#1 Employee" mug (gifted to him by his boss on his previous birthday), he readied himself for what was to come.

'Oliver? Are you here already? The door was unlocked so I assume you are.' The voice of his boss shouted from down the hall, pleasantly surprised despite the fact that he was here early every day. 'The coffee smells rather nice this morning.' she added, footsteps coming down towards the small room assigned to the coffee machine, microwave, and the cupboard of mugs they had both collected over the years. It could hardly be called a break room, so Oliver didn't. His boss peeked her head into the not-break room with a grin, trying to hide the fact that walking up the flights of stairs to get up here had tired her out considerably.

'I just made it; would you like me to bring some through for you?' he asked. 'You have a busy schedule today, so I'll make this for you and get right on that.' Oliver said with a hint of nervousness in his voice.

'Thank you, my dear." His boss kept smiling. 'And there's no need to be so worried, I'm not going to tear your head off!'

'Yet.' Oliver said under his breath as he took another sip of his warm beverage. His boss made a quiet laughing noise at his little comment, and he watched as she went away to her office. Her name was Lynn Best, and she was the manager of a company that did something. Oliver wasn't quite sure of what they did, but whatever it was, they were good at it. Lynn herself was a slightly overweight woman with long black hair that she usually kept tied in a neat ponytail or bun at the back of her head, and a warm, glowing, pink blush that spread across her face. Oliver quickly followed behind, steadily holding her requested cup of coffee and placing it on her desk as she sat down in her office. The office, the head office, was a spacious room with ceiling-high windows that looked out over the bustling city below, with a floor layered in plush red carpet, and black tiles neatly lining the walls, looking suspiciously like soundproofing. There were traces of red stains that had soaked into the walls and floor as well, but it was nothing important, although were a pain to try and wash out.

'Lovely.' Lynn said to Oliver with a sweet smile as he presented her with her mug, while she neatened up her desk. 'Off you go, I've heard you're very busy today and I don't wish to keep you.' She glanced down at a spot on the curved wooden desk and rubbed her sleeve on it, giving up after it proved itself irremovable. Oliver didn't recall that mark being there yesterday, although it could be that he just didn't notice it at the time.

Despite all of her very convincing behaviour, Oliver was aware that Lynn wasn't quite human. Actually, she wasn't human at all. Early on in his employment with her, she had disclosed to him that she was a member of an alien family named "Slitheen", specifically that she was "Lynn Tyr Fey Feneril-Slam Slitheen", but she had strictly forbidden him from calling her anything other than her human alias (which just so happened to be her first name anyway but he wasn't going to point that out to her) in and outside of the office, and had sworn him to secrecy under threat of death. Something that Oliver did not take lightly. Aside from this, he went along with the rest of it. He'd seen and experienced worse treatment from employers in his lifetime, so he might as well have an alien creature as his boss, (and death threat aside, she was nicer than the rest by a wide margin). Another thing she had told him in secrecy was that she had to use a special device to make herself look human. Again, Oliver went along with it. He didn't know the specifics of it, but alongside whatever it did to make her look human, it also made her susceptible to brief periods of flatulence (Which he was later informed was unintended, and instead caused by a problem within the alien technology being used. Oliver had enquired as to why it wasn't fixed, only to get a stern glare in reply, and consequently made a mental note to never inquire about it again). Lynn never seemed to be embarrassed by it at all, and after a while, it became normal for Oliver to hear every so often. After working alongside her for this long, he learned to tune the various sounds from her office out while focusing on his tasks. But that was only half of it, as she had also made crystal clear to him that the human appearance that she upkept had at some point been a living, breathing person unaware of alien life and turned into a "suit" for her. Most likely by her too. Upon hearing it, Oliver had to choke down his own bile and pretend that it didn't bother him. It was a gruesome fact that he had become desensitised to over time. He had to hold it down for even longer when, immediately after, she had removed it to show him what she actually looked like. Lynn, for her own merits, had given him some time to process it, patting him on the shoulder with a green, clawed, alien hand while he did.

After double checking that Lynn wanted nothing else done, Oliver nodded in her direction and swiftly made his exit, closing the door behind him. The calendar today was full of phone calls, meetings over the internet, meetings over lunch, meetings over dinner, and a single hour at the end where nothing at all was happening. Both of them were going to be busy. More so him, running around, collecting visitors from reception, and bringing them back upstairs. He didn't even know what they were here for because the company's aims and product were extremely vague. He went back and forth for several hours, saying "Hello, it's a pleasure to meet you" and "Thank you for coming" too many times to count.

'I'm definitely getting my exercise in today.' Oliver mused, his legs beginning to feel the pain of continuously walking up and down at least three flights of stairs because the lift was still broken. He had no time to waste on his own feelings on the matter, however, as the next batch of work was to be done. Mass emails to who knows where about the state of production of the…things that the company produces. A simple copy-and-paste job that would have been done in good time if the phone on his desk didn't keep ringing. Every five minutes someone else wanted a piece of Lynn's time. Some of them had already been in contact with her and she wanted nothing else to do with them. He was allowed to be as impolite to them as he wished, specifically on her orders. A refreshing change of pace whenever they decided to rear their heads.

'My dear, could you do something for me?' Lynn's voice came through a crackling line, separate from the phone, a small intercom system set up between the two offices. 'Could you, please, cancel everything in my diary today?' She asked him politely, far too politely for a normal inconvenience.

Ah, Oliver thought, this was one of those times.

He had come to accept that, sometimes, people went in that office and never came back out. Hence the definitely-not-soundproofing panels along the walls that had been installed around the same time he had been hired.

'Will you need me to be there as well?' He asked. 'For any reason?'

'No. I'll get you when I need you afterwards.'

'Alright, I'll be in here.' Oliver sighed, and looked across at the bookings, noticing a few names that weren't going to be happy with him. 'They're not going to like you cancelling on them at the last minute.' He had already started to contact the various guests, sending urgent emails to their inboxes to be seen at once.

'I know, I know' Lynn told him dismissively. 'Hopefully, they understand that something important has come up at the last minute. They're businesspeople, I'm sure they'll be fine with it.'

'They weren't last time.'

'Yes, and then I told you to give as good as you get. If they start being nasty with you, just do the same thing back.'

'They definitely won't like that.'

'Well, that's their fault- oh, he's here!' Lynn's voice said, surprised. 'I'll let you know when I need you.' She sounded quieter as she, presumably, got up to collect whoever it was that she had a plan for, finger still holding down the button. 'See you in a bit.' She cheerfully said to him before the line went dead. Oliver sat still, the thought of what actually went on behind those doors made him worry even though he would only be there to clean up afterwards because she refused to touch the supplies herself. He heard her walk past, and the distant sound of her pressing the button to call the lift. It dinged, and the metallic sound of the doors sliding open echoed through the hallway. At least they finally fixed it.

Oliver continued to fill the former visitors in on the sudden cancellation, rebooking the ones who asked, and leaving those that were too frustrated about it to seethe. And would contact them again at a later date. Luckily it was faster to cancel appointments than it was to make them, so it took less time than he thought it would, even able to take some time to get himself a fresh drink and even a biscuit from the tin in the other room. While he took his time, the sound of Lynn and the guest talking outside got louder, exchanging pleasantries that in the end, wouldn't mean anything as the other person would be dead. However, Oliver did find the man's voice familiar, and wracking his brain, he recalled speaking with a reporter for the local newspaper last week. What he didn't recall was making an appointment. So how did this meeting happen?

'I'm glad that you wanted to speak with me.' Lynn could be heard saying to the visitor. 'I don't often speak with reporters – you're one of the lucky ones.' She admitted, although "lucky" wasn't quite the word that Oliver would use. He heard the door open, catching a glance of the visitor as he crossed back over the corridor.

'I don't know if you've been told, but I'm Martin Ainsworth. I work for the local newspaper, I'm sure you've read some of my stories.' The visitor said with a bragging tone, just before his voice was muffled by the door closing. Oliver didn't think too highly of the man, after being in his presence for all of two seconds. He returned to his office to find that the intercom was on. He was about to ask why, but stopped himself after hearing what came out of it.

'What I wanted to speak with you about was some information that's come to my attention recently.' Martin said through the crackling quality of the speaker.

'And you came to ask me about it instead of simply printing it because…?' Lynn asked. While the two spoke, Oliver had a sneaking suspicion that Lynn already knew the information that the reporter had on her. She'd done this kind of thing before. She would find out that a reporter had information on her, invite them over for a full interview under the pretence of setting the record straight, and then, well…

'What the hell is going on?' Martin exclaimed as the familiar sound of Lynn reverting to her normal, non-human form played out. Oliver hadn't seen it much since the first day, but it wasn't the nicest thing to bear witness to if you were unfortunate enough to be there. The word "revert" was being nice, Oliver reckoned to himself, as the process was more like the alien creature climbing out of a human husk, that it somehow managed to fit into despite being larger than them. The process came with the sound of electricity, crackling away as the creature pushed itself free, with an assortment of wet squelching sounds. Last time he saw it, she did look damp after being inside the human body. Shortly after, Oliver could definitely hear screaming, and then a sound like bones breaking.

Oh.

It was the sound of bones breaking. And the loud smacking sound of a body hitting the floor.

'Well. That solves that.' Lynn could be heard saying, 'Now to get you ready.'

Oliver assumed she was addressing the dead body before doing…whatever she did to them. He'd only ever seen the latter half of it, when all that was left was to scrub a table and the floor. He kept listening out of curiosity, just to see if she noticed that the microphone was on.

He heard her footsteps walking around for a bit, stretching her legs and arms after a long day before a cupboard creaked, the sound of Lynn rifling through its contents could only just be caught, as was the heavy swish of a cloth being laid on the floor, and the plastic clunk of a bucket being placed down on top of it. Oliver was only half-paying-attention while he sent correspondence to those that were kind enough to get back to him.

'I don't care that you're annoyed! An important and personal matter has come up and—' Oliver shouted down the phone, being abruptly cut off by a displeased former client. He heaved a heavy sigh and added the name to a "Do Not Contact" list, one that was three pages long by now. Coincidentally, some of these people had been called up to Lynn's office by her personally. Was he responsible for…? No, he told himself, he couldn't be. It wasn't his fault what his boss did or did not do with the list when he was done with it.

Tapping the bottom of a pen on his table, he looked around, thinking of what to do now. Could always get another biscuit from the not-break-room, he supposed, glancing over the long list of emails yet to be replied to. He'd be sat here all day waiting for the responses to trickle through.

Fast walking over to the other room, he grabbed a biscuit from the packet resting on the worktop, then decided to just take the rest back with him too. Until he was stopped by the voice of Lynn shouting him from her office, door ajar.

'Oliver!' she called for him in a sing-song voice. 'I need you!'

'Coming!' he half-heartedly shouted back, saddened by the fact that he wasn't going to get a break after all, taking the packet with him because he'd already committed to them, shoving it in his pocket.

Casually walking into Lynn's office, he was met with the sight of her, in her real, monstrous form; and the empty, dead body of the visitor. He didn't need it spelling out for him, already heading to a cabinet that blended in with the wall. Inside was an array of carpet and wood cleaning supplies, along with both a regular and handheld vacuum cleaner. Picking out what he needed, he got to work on a small patch of blood that had managed to get on the carpet. Most was, fortunately, collected on the dull white canvas sheet that Lynn had laid out earlier, but a few drops had evaded it. The scentless cleaning fluids were vigorously applied and scrubbed until the stain faded, taking a good amount of elbow grease to remove.

'Is that good enough or do you need me to work on it a bit more?' Oliver asked Lynn, as she threw the bloodied canvas cloth into a dark corner of the office. 'Also, what do you want doing with that?' He indicated to the cloth.

'That's fine, thank you. And I'll just put it in the wash. Should get it out.' Lynn replied. Oliver raised his eyebrow at her idea that just one simple wash would get all of the blood out. You would need to soak it in hot water and throw in some stain removal powder, and even then, you would have to hope that it was enough to get it out in one go. Normally, it would take two or three washes depending on the stain. He would know, he'd had to wash that cloth before. Took an hour to get it back to a respectable condition but what would he know?

Putting the supplies back in the cupboard, Oliver turned to see Lynn folding the empty corpse over what was clearly a hanger for normal clothes and hooking it into a different cupboard, further along the wall. 'So, what's with the coat hanger?' He asked, 'Is that just something you do as well, or did you pick it up after living here?'

'Well, it's what you humans do with clothes, so it seemed appropriate.' Lynn told him. 'Although it's not for me. As you're aware, I already have one.' She explained, smiling to herself, fondly. 'One of my sons or nephews can have it, I think, and then we can take it from there.'

Oliver could only respond with a nod, closing the cabinet behind him. Brief worry flashed over his face, which Lynn seemed to notice straight away. Getting closer to him, she crouched down so their eyes met. 'I would never do that to you.' She told him. 'Not unless you betray me, which I very much doubt.'

'I've seen what happens to people that, uh, get in your way, so no I don't think I'll be doing that any time soon.' Oliver said, still nervous. Partially due to how close her claws were to him. 'I'll leave you to do whatever you do after this.' Trying to put on a happy smile, he stepped back and gave her a quick wave before trying to leave. Stopped only by Lynn asking him a question:

'Oliver.' She said, sternly.

'Yes?'

'Do you have the entire packet of biscuits in your pocket?' Lynn folded her arms, giving him an accusing look.

'…No?' Oliver replied, averting his eyes.

'There's no point in lying to me, my dear. My sense of smell is second-to-none.' Lynn laughed and gestured with her claws. 'Give.' She leaned over as Oliver took the packet out of his pocket, unfolded the end, and held it out; taking a single biscuit between her claws and making it look tiny by comparison before dismissing him. 'This will be an adequate offering. Now go before I change my mind!'

Bundling them close to his body, Oliver did as he was told, only because he didn't want to give up any more of his hard-earned snacks.

Glancing over at one of the windows, he noticed how dark it was, the sky outside glittering with stars, if you could look past the streetlights. 'It's late! I'm going home now!' He shouted, hoping that Lynn would hear. 'See you tomorrow!'

'Leave the front door open.' Lynn replied, peeking around her office door. 'And get home safe. I don't know what I would do without you.'

'That's…huh. Thanks.' Oliver didn't know what to say, surprised. 'I know you said that you wouldn't do all of that to me, but I do worry about it sometimes. I mean, what happens when I'm not useful to you anymore?'

'Oh, my dear, you will never be useless to me.' Lynn told him, from the heart. 'You know much more about how to deal with humans than I do, and I appreciate the fact that you're so willing to help. Despite how questionable it may be for your moral code.'

'I'm relieved to hear that.' Oliver nodded at her, glad that he wasn't going to be next on her chopping block. He did feel remorse for the people that she had made disappear, but it wasn't a feeling he could get hung up on for so long. Making himself smile as much as he could, he gave her one final wave, and left.

Stepping outside the building, he breathed in the fresh, cool, nighttime air. A far cry from the stifling air of the offices. He liked his job, or at least the part of it that involved talking to people, sure, but he wondered just what it was that he was helping to do. It stayed with him while he passed a tall figure going the other way, entering the building behind him. Oliver wanted to call out that they were closed, but the figure vanished. They must be one of Lynn's relatives, (he assumed, shaking his head.)

It was strange, to be sure. But he knew "strange". He knew it all too well.