The Cleanup
By evolution-500
Genre: Sci-Fi/Drama
Disclaimer: "Killer Instinct" is a property owned by Rareware and Microsoft. I do not own this game nor any of its characters.
WARNING: This story contains references to violence, coarse language, disturbing themes and imagery. Reader discretion is advised.
"A little poison now and then: that makes for pleasant dreams. And a lot of poison at the end, for a pleasant death."
- Friedrich Nietzsche
"Well, fellas, the Killer Instinct tournament has finally concluded," the manager spoke, his eyes focused on the clipboard on his hand, his tone lacking in enthusiasm, sounding bored. "You know what that means."
An audible groan was collectively uttered as the janitorial team expressed their enthusiasm...or rather their lack thereof.
"I know, I know," the manager waved, "but hey, think of it this way - at least you're getting paid."
One member of the team, a man in his thirties with dark thick curly hair by the name of Raj, scoffed. "Oh yeah."
"Yeah I'm rich," another member, an old man with a thick grey mustache by the name of Phil, muttered.
"Hardy har," the manager drawled. "Now quit your bitching and suit up. Your shifts will start soon."
One by one, every member of the cleanup crew made their way to the changing rooms, some less enthused than others as they stored their bags and jackets in lockers.
Opening his, Jerry Walters grabbed his uniform and stored his coat inside.
"How bad do you think it's gonna be this time?" he questioned one of the guys nearby.
"God, I don't wanna even think about it," Alex, an African-American with a mustache, groaned as he put on his grey maintenance uniform leg first. "I'm still having nightmares from the last one."
"You and me both, brother," Jerry nodded as he stretched his back, shuddering. "Hell, I couldn't even eat a nice hot pepperoni pizza last night without thinking about those guts."
"Pizza? Shit, I couldn't even handle eating a sausage or hot dog first time I worked here," Phil remarked nearby as he slipped on his uniform's sleeve.
"At least none of you barfed during the job like I had," Raj muttered, putting on heavy boots.
"Can't say that I blame you for doing so," Jerry replied. "After all, you were the one who had slipped into the guy's brain matter."
He watched as Raj winced at the memory. "God, that was disgusting! I hope tonight isn't too bad."
Jerry refrained from saying anything, partially to avoid jinxing themselves, and partially to avoid thinking about it too much.
"...So then," Alex spoke up, "what do you fellas think of that Orchid chick?"
Feeling the mood lighten somewhat, Jerry smiled, grateful for the change in subject. "Well, my thoughts are printed on her side in bold yellow neon."
A murmur of agreement was uttered by the men as they all nodded.
"I wonder how she's able to turn into a tiger like that," Raj wondered, slipping on a pair of thick rubber glovers.
Phil shrugged. "Who knows. She has a great set of titties on her, though."
The group whooped and laughed.
"Amen to that!" Jerry grinned, fist-bumping the old-timer as the latter grinned back.
"Shit, I bet she'd kill a guy with those," Alex commented.
"I heard that she did," Phil replied, drawing their interest.
"That right?"
"Yup. Flashed them big ol' bazongas at a couple guys and they just keeled over, just like that."
The guys chuckled.
"At least they died happy," Alex drawled. "I wonder if she's single."
Jerry gave an incredulous look. "Single? Dude, she killed a guy by flashing him - what do you think's gonna happen if the two of you decide to play hide the salami?"
"Then I'll die happy," Alex replied, his grin growing. "And it'll be totally worth it too!"
Rolling his eyes, he scoffed. "You're hopeless, man."
"Yeah, well, dyin' in bed is better than dyin' in some corporate war. You fellas hear about the stuff supposedly goin' on over at Arasaka and Militech?"
"I heard the rumors," Jerry nodded. "Real horror stories to be sure. But you might as well forget it, pal - that Orchid babe is waaaaay out of your league."
"Hey, you never know," Alex shrugged. "I just might get lucky."
"In your dreams, Romeo." Zipping up his grey maintenance uniform, Jerry's smile fell as he placed on his white hood and goggles. "Well, fellas, let's get this over with. The sooner we finish up, the sooner we can get the hell out of here and head to the nearest bar."
"Here here," Alex nodded. "Last one to finish pays."
Smirking, Jerry fist-bumped his pal. "You're on."
Once the group had finished getting outfitted, the custodians had to check in with the security office, providing them their name, identification number, retinal and fingerprint scans and the time in which they signed in. After that was done, they were then guided by an armed guard into a large decontamination chamber, where the four of them had to wait a few minutes while the chamber itself filled up with a thick cloud of vapor from a series of vents that lined the walls and ceiling.
When it finished, the door unlocked and whirred open, allowing them to step inside.
No more than two feet in, the group found themselves stopped by a wall-mounted monitor as it flickered on with music.
"Welcome to Ultratech," the automated female voice greeted. "Please state your employee numbers into the microphone."
"Employee Number Seven Dash Five Six Two Three Eight Nine," Jerry spoke.
"Employee Number Seven Dash Five Eight One Four Five Seven," Alex drawled in a bored tone.
"Employee Number Nine Dash Two Nine Six Three Five Five," Phil called.
"Employee Number Two Dash Nine Nine Eight Eight Three Three," Raj finished.
Seconds counted down as the artificial intelligence analyzed her vocal patterns.
"Voice recognition confirmed. Please provide DNA verification," the voice said, causing a green outline of a hand to appear on the wall.
One by one, the four pressed the palms of their right hands against it, watching as a green light scanned from the tips of their digits down to the palms of their hands.
A few seconds later, there came a click.
"DNA verification complete. Access granted. Please collect your equipment."
Raj frowned. "Man, these protocols are a pain in the ass. Was it always like this?"
"Yup, so you better get used to it, rookie," Jerry nodded. "Let's get our gear and move out."
"Roger."
Tonight was worse than they had thought.
The moment the automated doors opened, the cleaners found themselves regretting their life decisions as they found themselves looking upon a large, spacious yet empty caged arena, its walls, floor and ceiling completely drenched and caked with layers upon layers of blood and gore.
Staring aghast at the mess before him, Jerry and his team stared in awe, taking it all in. "Fucking hell, what happened here?!"
"Looks like another goddamned R.I.P.T.O.R. fight," Phil commented. "I've worked here long enough to know the signs."
"Shit!" Alex muttered, running a hand over his mouth.
Clutching his mouth, Raj stumbled away and vomited.
Jerry exhaled. "Crap, this is gonna take us forever to clean up. This some bullshit."
"Man, Ultratech ain't payin' me enough for this shit!" Alex complained.
"Be grateful that you even have a job, Al," Phil reminded, nudging him with his elbow. "Let's get to work. Time is money."
"Roger," Jerry nodded as he and the others started to wheel in their buckets and equipment.
"So how do you guys want to do this?" Raj asked.
"We'll divvy up our tasks," Jerry replied. "Raj, get the equipment and buckets of water ready. Phil, you're on crate and viscera duty, and Alex, I want you to be on the lookout for any biological anomalies or specimen samples - Corporate said that they'll give bonuses for any salvaged parts or specimens. I'll be mopping up this section."
"Understood," Alex waved, taking his mop with him.
"It's just us in here, right?" Raj said anxiously, grabbing a thick yello plastic container with a biohazard label marked on the side. "Like, we don't have to worry about any creature being loose or something?"
"It should be just us in here," Jerry tried to assure, but admittedly even he was a little nervous, grabbing his mop and bucket. "Now come on."
With that, the custodians went about their given tasks.
Picking up the bloodied ruins of a torso, Phil groaned. "Jesus. That thing practically shredded this guy down to the bone!"
"Put it in the crate," Jerry ordered. "Once it's full, we'll take it to the incinerator for disposal."
"Roger."
Jerry tried not to focus on the sounds of wet meat slapping as Phil indelicately dumped the torso into the container.
Wiping his sweaty forehead, Raj placed down some water buckets. "Shouldn't we have some drones with us for the cleaning?"
"That comes later," Jerry replied as he scrubbed the blood from the floor, dunking his mop into the bucket. "Not many corporations allow for many human custodians anymore, but Ultratech still needs 'em."
"How come?"
"Costs. Not only are automated drones more expensive, but they also tend to be unreliable cleaners. So, it falls to guys like us to pick up the shit that the damn things are unable to pick up."
"Makes you wonder how long will it be before Ultratech decides to can us and replace us with newer models," Phil gravely noted as he stuffed in a pair of dismembered legs. "Shit, it wouldn't surprise me if one day companies no longer rely on humans. I remember my Daddy was heartbroken after he was fired by that manufacturin' plant he had been workin' for. Forty years of his life, and one day corpo rats gave him the finger, gave 'im severance pay and told him to fuck off."
Alex scoffed, scrubbing some venom off from a nearby wall. "Least your dad got severance. Fuckin' Man-Tel Corporation didn't pay mine shit for building levels for their private prisons."
"That's 'cause convicts don't get paid."
Clicking his tongue, Alex merely shrugged. "Touché I guess."
The arena fell back into silence as the men continued to work, the only sounds being the sloshing of water.
Scrubbing hard on the floor, Jerry let out a frustrated huff.
"Everything okay, Jerry?" Phil called.
"Goddamned blood won't come out of the floor," he muttered, scrubbing as hard as he could.
Phil hummed. "Yeah, we could never get the stains out. We're gonna need a firehose or somethin' in order to spray the blood out, if not stronger cleaning solvents."
"Hey, uh, fellas?" Alex called. "I think I found something!"
"Found what?" Jerry asked.
"This." Turning to face him, Jerry and the others halted their work, their brows furrowing at the object in the cleaner's hands.
"...Is...Is that what I think it is?" Raj hesitantly asked.
Phil hummed, nodding thoughtfully. "Yup. That definitely looks like an egg alright."
"I thought the Science guys managed to sterilize the R.I.P.T.O.R. units, hadn't they?" Jerry questioned.
"Well, apparently not," Alex replied, gesturing to the object in his hand.
"Are there others?"
"I didn't see any, but I'll be sure to keep an eye out."
"Corporate will want to see this, so store it in a bin and mark the sample."
"Roger."
As Alex wandered off, Raj wiped his forehead, his eyes focused on the egg. "Do you always find eggs during clean-ups?"
"Not often, but it does happen sometimes," Phil replied, resuming his work.
"What's the weirdest thing you guys ever found?"
Jerry chuckled. "What haven't we found? One time we found some mutant mollusks blocking the pipes."
"Mollusks?" Raj questioned, raising a brow.
"Yep!" Jerry answered, popping the 'p'. "Big fuckers too! We ended up turning them over to the guys at R&D, but I haven't the faintest idea of what's become of them."
"That right?"
"Yeah."
"Huh. What else did you guys find?"
"All sorts of crazy things. Rats, Barbie dolls, vibrator-"
"Vibrator?!" Raj exclaimed. "In the freaking tournament?!"
Jerry shrugged. "Apparently one of the contestants had it in 'im at the time of the fight. We only found it after the dude was disemboweled." He scrunched up his face. "Fuckin' sickos, man. You can always count on one nutter joining the tournament."
As he continued his mopping, Raj spoke up again.
"Have any of you guys ever thought of joining?" the latter asked curiously.
Sparing him a surprised glance, Jerry and the others barked out a laugh. "What are you nuts?! Fuck no! Why the hell would we wanna do that?!"
"You guys never considered the idea?"
Phil gave him a deadpanned stare, dropping a bloodied rib into a crate. "Son, look at what we're doing right now. Does this really not make you think 'hm, maybe I shouldn't?'"
"I think I can win, though!" Raj protested.
The group laughed, shaking their heads in disbelief.
"Yeah," Jerry nodded, not bothering to mask his doubt. "Sure."
"I'm serious! I'm pretty sure that I can win!" Raj said, placing down another set of buckets before raising up his hands and making jabbing motions with his fists. "I know some boxing and a little karate from my cousin."
"Oh, so you know a few moves!" Jerry then tilted his head over to his coworkers. "Ya hear that, guys? We got a guy that knows some boxing and a little karate! My God, we got a real-life Bruce Lee with us!"
Alex scoffed. "Bullshit. You wouldn't last three seconds in the tournament."
"Of course I would!" Raj retorted, fuming. "I bet I can win that million dollar cash prize!"
"Uh huh."
"More than likely you'll be quitting in the first three or four rounds," Phil replied as he dumped off various bones and organs into a container. "Assuming that you don't end up getting eviscerated, burned or devoured first by whatever freak Ultratech has conjured up as their next weapons project. Best case scenario, you get a few broken bones, some scars, maybe some brain and psychological damage, along with an expensive hospital bill. Worst case scenario? You lose your limbs or your life, or - God help you - you end up becoming a new guinea pig for R&D. Hell, even dead you might end up the next new big thing for the company to experiment on. In that case, complete disintegration might be the best outcome you could ever hope for."
The arena was silent save for the sloshes of bloodied water as mops were soaked, the youngest member of the janitorial team reflecting on the warning.
Slumping his shoulders, Raj let out a dejected sigh as he conceded. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
"Of course he is, rookie," Jerry spoke up. "How do you think Phil was able to stay on the job for so long? Guts don't mean shit if they're sprawled out all over the floor, kid - it's just another mess to clean up." Glancing over in Phil's direction, Jerry gestured at him, "Tell him about the last guy that tried. You know who I mean, the Russian?"
"Dimitri," the former nodded in remembrance. "Yes, I remember. Big Russian bear of a man. Strong like an ox, smelled like a pig, breath like a goat, and a fart that was louder than biologically necessary. Great guy, all things considering. He and his girlfriend had used to host barbecues in their apartment and would invite me and the other fellas over from time to time. Like you, he too had big dreams. Wanted to live the American dream and thought that he could achieve it by joining the tournament. 'If I win tournament, I will open up restaurant and serve the best food. I will get my Katerina a ring, and we will host big wedding!'"
"So what happened?" Raj asked.
Jerry watched as Phil's face darkened. "He had fought his way up the ladder...only to end up stomped by a fuckin' mech in the seventh matchup."
"Jesus Christ!"
"Yeah. What was worse, though, was that at the time, me and the other guys were with his girl watching the matchup at the local bar when it had happened." A shudder rippled through Phil's form, his face scrunching up. "I've never heard such horrific screams from a woman in my all life, and God help me, I still remember them even after all these years later! Katerina became hysterical, screaming and crying so loudly that I almost went deaf!"
Phil then dumped off another mound of flesh and bone into the container. "The worse part was that my shift had started shortly afterward."
Raj hesitated. "You mean-"
"Yeah," Phil nodded. "I had to pick up my buddy's remains from off the floor." A stunned silence followed, the words lingering. Dumping more remains into the container, the old man wiped his gloved hands with a piece of paper towel. "There are two hundred and six bones in the human body, along with five liters of blood, and all of it was splattered everywhere. There wasn't much left of Dimitri to gather, just this big fuckin' smear. Nothin' more soberin' than picking up pieces of your buddy and stickin' 'em into a plastic bucket, even comin' across pieces you recognize."
"Fuck, that's so messed up," Raj breathed. "So, what happened to his girlfriend?"
"Katerina?" Phil spoke up. "Drank herself stupid and walked into an oncoming train, from what I heard."
Jerry watched as the youngest member of the janitorial team shook his head, the latter exhaling. "Damn."
"Think of it this way, rookie," Jerry spoke up, "you get to live and make money."
Raj scowled. "I barely make enough as it is."
"So? At least you're still makin' money. What, you think you're too good for this? Your problem, kid, is that you're a dreamer, and you're in the wrong place to be one."
Putting down a bucket, Raj whipped around and faced Jerry. "What's wrong with having a dream?!" He retorted. "It's suddenly a bad thing to want to achieve more out of life?! I can win that tournament no problem, and when I do, things will be different!"
His pronouncements were so loud that he was practically shouting, the words echoing through the bloody arena.
Perhaps in a sports movie there would be a triumphant swell of an orchestra and horn and everyone present would feel inspired, but the men in the room merely gave the sparkly-eyed boy a tired and morosely knowing look.
Exhaling, Jerry shook his head. "The night's still young. Just keep working the next few hours, and you'll see for yourself, kid. Now come on - this place isn't going to clean itself."
With that, the men resumed their work, wiping down the walls, floor, and ceiling, along with the pair of spiked pillars beside the cage.
It took the four of them four hours just to clean the bloody arena, but even then, they were never able to clean it entirely.
Moving onto the next set of arenas proved slightly easier, although the sights and smells that greeted them were no less unpleasant.
Raj's eye twitched as he took in their new surroundings.
Greeting the cleaners was a medieval-looking dungeon or tomb, complete with torches, archways, and various skulls covering the walls and floor, with some hanging above the ceiling in chains and on hooks.
"Skulls?!" He exclaimed. "Really?! Skulls everywhere?! Who does that?! What kind of psycho made this room?!"
Jerry shrugged. "Apparently this used to be the Baron's family crypt, but Spinal has taken a liking to it."
Upon mentioning the undead fighter, all color drained from Raj's face. "S-Spinal?"
"YYYYYep!" Jerry replied, drawing out the 'y'. "For some reason, he likes to hang around here and on the Baron's roof at night. No idea why."
Raj shivered. "Well, it's kind of obvious. This place is creepy, just like him." He then gave a curious look. "What's Spinal's deal exactly?"
Phil shrugged. "Dunno. I heard talk that supposedly he's the result of Ultratech's cell regeneration experiments."
"Cell regeneration experiments?!" Raj said incredulously. "What cells exactly?! I mean, the guy's a walking skeleton! Does he even have any skin, let alone muscle?!"
"How the hell do I know?" Phil impatiently grumbled as he glanced around. "I only heard what some of the other guys tell me."
"What I wanna know," Alex spoke up, "is what is the deal with that tentacle-faced shield that he carries around. Like, gene-pod freak or not, how does that explain the shield? I sweat I've seen the tentacles on that thing move and its eyes blink as if they were alive."
Upon hearing that, the four of them uneasily froze, each of them lost in thought.
"Huh." Scratching his head, Jerry gave a puzzled look. "You know, now that you mention it, that is a good question. All I know is that it gives me the chills. Hell, if I stare at it for too long I start getting a bit of a headache."
"You as well?" Alex blinked in surprise. "I thought it was just me."
"Hm."
As the men went about their work, Raj spoke up again, "Has anyone ever...you know...tried to talk to him?"
"Who, Spinal?" Alex said, raising a brow.
"Well, yeah!"
A dark look crossed Alex's face as he, Phil and Jerry exchanged glances before turning their gazes back to Raj.
"One guy did," Jerry said slowly. "A few years ago, we were workin' the night shift when we saw Spinal wandering around. I have no idea what he was doin'; he just seemed like he was lost or lookin' for somethin' or whatever. A buddy of mine named Zeke was a big fan of his, and seeing Spinal, he thought he could get an autograph from the guy, if not some photo opportunity to put on his Facebook page. It didn't say much, just incoherent squawks and a chuckle. A mean chuckle. I dunno, on TV, I kind of thought of 'im like the Crypt Keeper, just this character on a show, but seein' him a few feet away...it felt...I don't even know how to describe it. Anyway, Zeke tried to tap 'im on the shoulder, but the moment he did, somethin' happened. Spinal just completely froze, and we had all felt the air turn to ice. One moment, Zeke had been totally fine, the next, he just started screamin' bloody murder, laughing and crying like a maniac before gouging out his own eyes!"
"Oh my God!" Raj gasped.
"Yeah! And believe me, it got a whole lot worse - he started clawing all the flesh off from his face, right down to the bloody bone! We had tried to stop him, but the room became flooded with security personnel armed with tasers who told us to get the fuck out and not to touch Zeke. We had protested at the time, but these guys were not fuckin' around, so we got the fuck outta there! The last time I saw Zeke, three or four security guys were trying to restrain him while that little bastard Spinal was laughing his fucking ass off! Zeke was never the same after that. I heard he had been sent to the nuthouse and that he died there. Other rumors said he died en route to the hospital. Whatever the truth is, me and the boys steer clear of Spinal, and if I were you, kid, I'd do the same."
The rookie anxiously swallowed. "Duly noted." Looking around at all the bones, Raj nervously scratched his head. "So, uh, which of these are we suppose to dispose of?"
Upon hearing that, Jerry's mop stilled, the janitor lifting his head in thought. "Hm...now that you mention it...I have no idea."
The next area that the four of them visited was more industrial in nature. Standing together on a bridge-like grate with railings lining the sides, they observed heavy machinery and factories in the background, with several overhanging lights illuminating the area, all of it cold and strictly utilitarian.
However, blemishing the catwalk's metallic floor were the remains of a fighter, the body battered, bloodied and charred, smoke rising from its charred cadaver. Various pieces of its limbs were scattered, some sliced so thoroughly that they practically looked like salami.
"Jesus Christ, look at the state of this guy!" Jerry muttered as he approached.
Taking out his mop, he poked the charred remains.
Letting out a whistle, Alex shook his head. "Daaaaamn! Whatever Ultratech used, this guy's cooked!"
Wobbling unsteadily away, Raj took off his mask and threw up over the railing, causing his coworkers to groan.
"Aw fuck, here we go again," Alex muttered. "You alright, kid?"
Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, the rookie put his mask back on. "Sorry, guys!"
"Don't worry about it," Jerry replied. "Alright fellas, get out the body bag. Corporate wants to keep this one."
Complying, the three of them unfurled a bad and started to collect the torso.
"So, uh, what does Ultratech want with this guy?" Raj asked.
"Hell if I know," Jerry shrugged, "and let's keep it that way. Sometimes, kid, the safe thing to do is to play ignorant, otherwise it'll come back and bite you on the ass. Don't dwell on this too much, rookie - you'll sleep better."
The words lingered as the four of them went about their task, the warehouse silent save for the body bag's crinkling and the occasional spray of disinfectant.
The last area was the rooftop of Sabrewulf Castle. Surrounded on all sides by a thick forest, a full moon hung overhead in a green sky, its red form partially hidden by clouds.
Lifting up their buckets, Jerry straightened his back as he and the other custodians arrived on the landing, where they found a bloodied corpse being pecked at by crows, with one large bird plucking an eyeball straight from the skull.
"Well, this should be the last one, fellas," he remarked, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "One more area to clean, and then we'll be done."
"About damn time!" Phil sourly replied, yawning. "Once this fucker is done, I'm headin' home. I'm absolutely beat."
"You and me both, pal," Alex muttered, rubbing his tired eyes.
"So I guess it'll just be at the bar then?" Jerry quipped.
Alex dismissively waved. "Knock yourself out, chief. I'm too tired to even stand, much less head to a bar."
Jerry shrugged. "Well, guess it's all the more for me then." He then spared a glance at Raj. "How about you, rookie? Will you be taggin' along?"
"Nope." Raj cracked his neck. "Once I win that million dollar prize, I'm putting all this shit behind me."
Upon hearing that, Jerry frowned. "You're still planning on participating, even after all you've seen and heard?"
"Yeah," the rookie replied. "I'm not going to spend the rest of my life picking up trash and garbage. No sirree, that million dollars has my name written all over it, and I intend on collecting."
The custodians were quiet as they stared at Raj, their features grim under the moonlight.
Shaking his head warily, Jerry took out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket along with a lighter, popping one into his mouth and lighting it up.
Exhaling out a plume of smoke, he regarded the younger man, his cigarette steadily held between his index and middle fingers.
"You don't get it, kid," Jerry shook his head. "You just don't get it at all. Look where you are, rookie - you think this some fuckin' Disney fairy tale where life is beautiful and where you can make wishes and get happily-ever-afters? What, you think that just because you're scrappy you think you can rise up to the top? Wrong, this isn't that kind of story, kid, and this isn't that kind of world." He then gestured to the bloodied rooftop around them. "See this, kid? Welcome to being an adult - not exactly what I'd call 'rosy', is it? This is reality, rookie - it is hard, violent, uncomfortable and cruel. You will lose, and you will lose often, and you are just now gettin' your first taste and glimpse of it all right here on this very roof. More often than not, you're gonna get hurt, and a lot, and if you're a dreamer? Heh, get ready for a whole world of hurt!"
Clouds swirled overhead, the moon casting its rays over the group, the crows cawing loudly as they pecked at the remains.
"This ain't the place for dreamers, kid," Jerry continued to warn as he stared out at the forest-covered landscape. "The Killer Instinct tournament isn't where you win big and fulfill whatever wish you have; it's where the desperate come to lose and where dreams shatter, rot and die. Everyone steppin' into KI all had a story once upon a time, kid. They all dreamt of somethin' - fame. Glory. Redemption. Money. A better life. More opportunities. A few years ago, a kid just like you had big dreams of winnin' the Killer Instinct tournament. He used to talk all about how he was gonna 'stick it to the Man and make sweepin' changes to legislation and help his community!' Eventually he did win the tournament, but what happened then? Those "big" sweepin' changes he boasted of makin'? All those talks of helpin' his community? Nothin'. He ended up another mouth-piece has-been spendin' all that money on booze, cocaine, and hookers, and not a single cent made its way to support anyone, includin' his own family. Now, you're probably thinkin, 'So what? Just one guy, this time it'll be different.' That's what I had thought as well when I was younger...only...the same...fucking thing kept happening over and over again. No matter who enters, no matter who wins, nothin' ever changes."
Jerry sloshed his mop in the bucket, watching as the water turned red. "Take my advice, kid - don't enter the tournament. It will just grind you up as it had the various other poor fuckers before you. Only Ultratech wins, and believe me, kid, they always win, no matter what you try to do. You can't beat them. Nobody can."
Clenching his jaw, Raj's mouth tightened, as if he tasted something foul.
Puffing another plume of smoke, Jerry inhaled deeply on his cigarette. "You don't believe me," he said without any emotion. "Can't say that I blame you. After all, you're young, bright-eyed and bushytailed, with your whole future ahead of you. I was too once. But then..."
As he trailed off, the janitor stared off into the distance, his eyes dark and haunted.
Exhaling he shook his head. "The moment you step into the tournament, kid," he said slowly, "...it will destroy you. I don't know how it will, but I know it will, and when it does, you can kiss your dreams goodbye, rookie. Now look, you have a job and you're getting paid. My advice? Don't waste such a good thing; good things are hard enough to come by in this world, and I know plenty of dudes that would give their right arm to be in the position that you're in right now. Sure, what we do here isn't pretty, but so is life, and if I were you, I'd think about survival."
"Survival," Raj repeated. "That's how you justify this?"
"Damn straight. Between those corporate wars goin' on where men and women are gettin' blown apart by the dozen, being homeless and starving, or volunteering to be part of some off-the-books experiments, what other options are there?! Join one of the local gangs? Find work as a mercenary, busboy, waiter, fast food joint or in porn? Being skewered into beef jerky on live TV? Face it kid, things are not great, and if you're smart, you get to live longer."
He had hoped that his words would discourage Raj from entering.
After all, given where they were and the evidence surrounding them, one would think that he would listen.
Unfortunately, it seemed some people were naturally inclined to face their own destruction head-on.
Letting out a hot harrumph, Raj took off his mask, his eyes hard and filled with determination. "You know what? I think you are all a bunch of gutless cowards. What good is it to survive when things are bad as they are? Once I win the tournament, I'll make things better, and nothing is going to stop me!"
The rooftop was silent save for his shouting the last part, his fist pumped straight to the air, as if daring someone to challenge him.
In many a sports movie, Raj's speech would have been considered inspirational, accompanied by enthusiastic cheers and the swell of blaring triumphant horns marking his heroism, but his coworkers showed little to no enthusiasm in his words. Instead, all three men regarded the rookie with a tired knowingness, as if they had all seen and heard this before.
Taking a sharp inhalation of his cigarette, Jerry nodded. "Great speech, kid," he said, puffing out smoke. "Tell me something - did you practice that in front of the mirror before you went to work?"
Tightening his mouth, Raj glared at the older man, his nostrils flaring. "I'll show you. Someday, I'll show you all. So laugh it up, fuckers!"
Upon making that declaration, the youngest member of the team turned around to storm off, only to trip over a bucket, causing it to spill, a collective groan to elicit from the group.
"Oh for fuck's sakes!" Alex groaned. "Raj, you idiot, I just cleaned that!"
"Way to go, rookie," Phil drawled, unimpressed.
"Aren't you stickin' around, kid?" Jerry called. "You're still on the clock."
Pushing himself off the floor, Raj harrumphed and looked away, departing without saying another word, leaving behind his equipment as he turned his back on his coworkers.
Sparing a glance to the others, Jerry sighed. "Well, fellas, looks like we gotta another idiot contender this year. Think he'll win?"
Letting out a low laugh, Phil shook his head. "Are you kiddin'? He doesn't have a hope in hell."
Beside him, Alex scoffed. "Fuck no."
Humming thoughtfully, he shrugged. "Thought as much." Looking back to the bloodied rooftop and at the spilled water that drained down the sides, Jerry found himself glancing over at the scattered pieces of the previous contestant, including its freshly flayed skull.
Swatting aside the crows, Jerry let out a tired sigh. "Okay, guys, let's get back to the work."
With that last utterance, the trio stirred as they all worked the midnight hour, picking up the broken pieces of the last contestant and dumping them off into waste bins, their hearts filled with sorrow as they were once more reminded of their own broken dreams.
Author Notes: That concludes the story. So, the inspiration for this story sort of came from a game called "Viscera Clean-Up", which is a sort of parody First-Person Shooter where you play the role of the janitor who has to clean up the aftermath of games such as "Doom" or "Halo". While watching some videos of IGP and Markiplier on YouTube, I was suddenly struck by the idea of doing a humorous story about the poor schmuck who has to clean up the arenas in the Killer Instinct tournament. So, I kind of figured "why not?"
Initially, I had only wanted one custodian and a much more humorous tone, but then I thought it would be a little funnier to have more people involved and seeing the sort of things that would happen. It was then that while writing that I suddenly found a noticeable change in the tone and atmosphere, and from there, the story sort of oddly took on a life of its own and I became intrigued by some of the thoughts of the characters as they're living in this world. To give you guys context, KI's world is a nightmare landscape very much akin to the world of Night City and "Cyberpunk 2077", where the world is hanging by a dangerous thread, corporations go to literal wars over ever-increasingly dwindling resources and where life is cheap. It also kind of allowed me to reflect more on the Killer Instinct tournament and what it represented, not only to the characters in the games, but also those who were on the outside looking in and vice-versa. So, I sort of decided to write this up and see where it went.
I hope you all liked this, if not enjoyed it. If not, I apologize.
Also, shout-out to LunarAquarius for her help - thank you so much, Lunar! :D
Stay safe and healthy, everyone!