I collapsed on my mattress, telling William to go to school, that it was all cleaned up, and that only a few people died. He'd learn soon enough that I made a deal with a demon to make it so. Not that he believed in that stuff. I wasn't too keen on giving an I-O-U to the annoying ghost, which had to be a demon, but needs must and all. A hand nudges me, and I shift to my back with a whine, only for said complaint to turn into a groan as I immediately turned towards the wall and put an arm over my head.

"Aw, don't be like that. I could have asked for your soul," The demon said, flopping next to me on the mattress as if it were his, too. I curl up silently.

"M'cold, tired, n'sad, leave me alone," I grumbled, already half asleep.

"But I'm bored," The demon complained.

"Then go antagonize the new ghosts in the high school," I slurred grumpily.

"I can't. They're all gone in the day."

I remain silent, feeling cold, wet, and miserable, before realizing, hey, demon. Weren't they supposed to be walking sources of heat or something? Turning around, my suspicions were confirmed, and my new heated body pillow stiffened and shifted.

"You really are cold, aren't you? I've felt ghosts less cold than you, hell, go take a warm shower and put on dry clothes," The demon ordered, awkwardly trying to push me away from him. I grunt, clinging to him more. No. He was comfortable, and his situation was entirely his fault.

"Mmmnn," I complained when he picked me up after a moment. I gave him a glare when he set me into steaming water, fully clothed. He smirked, and gestured towards the clothes he chose. My glare increased, "How even? I don't own any of that."

"Now you do. You can either wallow in self-pity and sleep in the bathroom or you can get yourself clean, wear those clothes I so kindly provided, and-"

"Self-pity? I just cleaned up literally every single one of my coworkers, dug two full graves and one shallow one, and made a deal with some demon-"

"I'm actually the devil," He corrected.

"I'm not wallowing in self-pity, dude, I'm fucking exhausted. Now, move, I'm going to bed."

As I had said earlier, way earlier, it should be noted that words meant nothing. That being an idiot was a good thing, because it is only those who can admit to being an idiot that know. They know, because they've done, and failed, and been, and all other things. Happiness was a lie, and the Devil didn't listen to simple instructions. Then again, neither did I.

"Mm, nah, I'm comfortable here," He admitted freely, but I was already halfway to dreamland, and I simply leaned against him and fell asleep after comfortably clinging to him like a sloth.

I immediately woke up, though, due to the pesky need for air that I simply wasn't getting, being half-drowned in a tub. Coughing and spluttering as I sat up, I glared at the supposed devil, who silently rose his eyebrows, gestured to the expensive and revealing clothing, and walked out of the room. I glared at the clothing. Trying the door, I found it was locked. Stumbling and falling into the bath with a loud splash when I tried and failed to kick the door open, I sighed heavily and gave up.

After a much-needed bath and consecutive shower, I stumbled blearily out of the bathroom, lurching towards the pile of clean clothes I had in one corner and pulled on a giant T-Shirt that went down to my knees, hence blocking all the things I wanted blocked. Without much thought, I pulled Mr. Chatty to bed and cuddled up to him, asleep after ignoring the last sensible thought to come to mind.

I didn't notice that the shirt I put on mysteriously vanished not moments after I laid down, leaving only what the supposed Devil had supplied for me to wear.

When I woke up, it was to my mattress being the devil, who didn't look very put-off by the way I had been wrapped around him, tangling his limbs with mine. Bleary eyes found blue, and I stared in confusion for a long time before humming and laying my head back down. A cold draft made me shiver, waking me up just enough that the next moment had me across the room. No one was on the mattress when my gaze focused on it again, and I looked down to see that I was only wearing the pajamas the devil had provided me with. Glancing around, I didn't see the big shirt I had put over it. I frowned. That was my favorite pajama shirt.

"It is twenty-three forty-seven. Work," My phone called, and my hearing seemed to rush in, and I realized it had been repeating that for a long time.

"Shit! I'm almost late!" I hissed, scrambling to rush out the door, pulling pants on and grabbing a shirt and jacket to pull on as I ran to the car. I left the bra and underwear parts of the outfit the chatty ghost supplied me with on, not having time to take them off as I arrived at the school two minutes early.

"Hello," The tired voice of the principal said as I stood next to him, "The locks aren't working..."

"Oh, yeah. They automatically lock and unlock at certain times. It's why there's only one midnight janitor."

"Right... I'll pay you extra if you work more? You're my only janitor... You'll get paid what the others did until I'm able to find more janitors if you keep it as clean as you usually did every day," My new boss said, handing over all the keys of the other janitors' on one ring.

"Um," I stared at the ring awkwardly. Well, that was...

"The hours would be... fifteen. Hours. A day. You'll be paid overtime, too."

"So... A thousand dollars a week, plus the equivalent of four minimum wage jobs at the same time? From midnight to sunrise is about six hours..."

"Then you'd take an hour-long break and come back for nine more hours of work. It's a lot, I know, but I calculated, and since the Head Janitor got paid thirteen an hour, and everyone else got paid nine, that would make one hell of a paycheck."

"You realize the average lifespan of a midnight janitor in your school is a week?"

"Yes... that's why the pay is so good! I don't know what keeps killing the janitors... But you have one hell of an incentive!" The principal said, "Oh, and I'm not curious what's killing you either. Have fun!"

"... Fifteen hours a day for a week or two until you find another?" I asked, "Forty an hour, plus overtime, plus the thousand I typically would have gotten?"

"Yep. I'm going to sleep. See you bright and early tomorrow!" The principal walked off, singing loudly as if to block out any refusals I might make. I gaped after him.

“Wait! I need…” I huffed when he sang louder. I needed the paperwork, so I knew what to avoid tonight.

Pulling out a phone and doing the math, any complaints I may have had instantly died a brutal death and I hummed a jaunty tune as I went inside. Exhaustion for over 5k a week? I was pretty much an insomniac anyway. Blatantly ignoring that my sleeping schedule was typically bigger than my waking schedule I went around cleaning everything.

"You're in a good mood."

"Mm," I agreed, glancing over, before going back to dancing around and cleaning.

I guessed the daytime rules were different to the nighttime rules, so I made extra sure to make everything spotless so I had less to focus on. About to clean the last stretch of hallway, done with the last classroom, the ghost stands in the way. Observing his chest, I hum again, more in confusion than anything else.

"Your mood doesn't make you speak more?" The ghost asked.

"Caffeine isn't happiness," I explained shortly, wanting to get back to work. I re-clean around his feet, but unlike all the other times I'd done that, he didn't move. I continue cleaning, though.

"The floor is spotless. Why are you cleaning so effectively? I've seen your place, you nor your brother would know what cleanliness was if it slapped you in the face."

I glanced at the cleaned area, everything besides the chairs spotless, "Evidently not. I have a hallway to go, yet, if you'd move?"

He stood, unmoving, and after a moment my hands hesitantly moved forward. Once my fingers brushed against solid matter, my hands stopped being so hesitant, and I pulled him into the classroom, before trying to push him to the side. It doesn't work, and I'm just left an inch away from his chest. Stumbling back, I grab my mop, glad I left the janitors' cart outside of the class as I walk around him. The door closes in my face, and I grip my mop handle a bit tighter. The only usable mop left, after all the others died heroic deaths in the fight against the KKK. Hm.

"It's been an hour. You completed your job, which typically takes five hours, in one. Come on, speak to me."

"It typically takes five hours because of certain interruptions. My job was literally just to clean up after the midnight guests the school carries," I explained shortly even as I tried the door, "Which, after I'm done doing the daytime janitors' job, is what I'll be doing."

I tugged on the door harder, but it remained closed. Eventually the knob just stopped turning no matter how hard I tried to turn it, and I sighed, turning around. Setting the mop next to me, I stared blankly at the demonic poltergeist before me as I thought. Daytime janitors' had to clean the outdoors too, so that would be what I started on after asking my brother on the locking schedule for the doors. It wasn't like it mattered, the entrance doors' glass all smashed. I'd be the one cleaning that up, too, which is the actual reason I had rushed through my typically leisure but intensive cleaning of the school. I wanted to make sure if I had to leave I didn't need to come back in, though there was no longer anyone to enforce the rules or suggestions besides my survival instincts. I didn't think he'd approve of my plans to leave early to fix the doors, though, and thus gave him the half-truth.

"Mm, you see, I don't really believe you. Which is an issue, because I've never lied to you, and I expect the same respect given to me."

"Of course," I answered flatly, "By all means, lie all you like to me. There, even grounds. Let me open the door."

"I don't think you understand what I will do to you," He murmured darkly.

"Loudly and clearly," I rolled my eyes, "Kill me, torture, fuck, whatever. I just don't care. At all. Let me do my j-ah!"

I grimaced, both hands reaching to grasp at his, only for them to go through his hand and scratch at my bare neck. Rubbing said neck, I weakly kick out, but that goes through him too. I let my legs drop to rest on the floor even as my hands struggle to hold onto something, anything, but nothing but air meets my awkwardly grasping reach. Trying to move, I find that even as my shoes shriek against the shined tile the man’s grip remained firm.

Unable to breathe even as my heart beats faster, my green eyes meet his blue, and I give him a confused look. Attention brought away from my current breathless predicament, I pondered the color of his eyes, which I could have /sworn/ were red. Like, glowing red. Glowing red of reddishness.

Lungs burning, my vision fades slowly, static overtaking my sight. The sounds of my blood rushing fills my ears, feeling the beat of my heart through my chest. I couldn't think of anything besides my predicament, anymore, and struggled to breathe even though I knew it wouldn't work.

"Apologize," He demanded even as his grip strengthened around my neck. How could I, though, when he was blocking my only method of doing so?

I managed to make a small noise in the back of my throat, before I grinned and started shaking with mirth, no noise coming out of my mouth even as I laughed. He released me, and I took a deep breath of air, but couldn't help but continue laughing.

"... Why aren't you scared?"

My laughter paused, "B-bec-" But not long enough for me to get out any sentence, slowly sinking to my knees as I choke on my own laughter.

Tears of mirth stream down my face, and I knew, logically, that the person telling me to apologize preventing me from speaking wasn't funny at all, but the laughter just wouldn't stop. Maybe it was the stress of the past week, maybe it was the lack of blood-flow, or maybe it was me feeling more awake and alive since this whole hellish apocalypse of semi-deadly proportions whilst literally dying, but my laughter increased.

Eventually, stomach aching as much as my lungs and head do, I managed to cease my laughter, just breathing and wiping my eyes as I stare down at the shiny flooring that let me see my own reflection.

"I'm not scared, because this just isn't scary," I finally answered through my heaving and slowly steadying breaths, standing up and grabbing at the wall and my mop to keep my balance as everything swayed. He wasn't there, though, and when I tried the door it opened.

Cleaning the last stretch of school, I went through all the areas once more, cleaning any newly appearing messes and going into the maintenance cupboard and putting the toolkits on the cart. Stopping in front of the smashed doors, I observed them. I didn't need to replace the doors like I first thought I might, the dents on the outside being superficial. All I'd need to do was clean the glass up and cover the empty space so no insects could come in and fuck up my hard work like the dicks they are.

I do so, and do a few more sweeps of the area, even the ceiling sparkling by the time I felt confident enough to leave. The doors don't open. Checking my phone, I see that it was four thirty in the morning, and that it was still very much night time. It would be, I had an alarm set for four-forty in the morning and an hourly alarm went off so I could keep track.

"Hello? Hello, hello!" A familiar and unwanted voice came from directly behind me. Unwanted because I spent hours digging his grave last night. I spun around, and saw Mike standing there jauntily.

"Hey, Mike... Uh, you... didn't move on?" I asked, trying not to show how desperate and sad that made me.

"No... I'm alive. /I won't die./ Thanks for digging my grave," He looked past me, towards where I had buried him. The doors weren't see-through, though, and soon his gaze returned to me, brown eyes glimmering oddly.

"Right... No problem," I said slowly, "Uh, if- if you're alive, how'd you get in here?"

"Oh, he only lets' one person in at a time, doesn't he?" Mike agreed, flickering in and out of sight as he looked at his hands in sorrow, "... I'll open the doors for you, I don't think he plans on letting you out, tonight. Good luck! Oh, I might as well tell you the last suggestion. If you see red eyes, run! Heh, it uh, means that you'll never escape. Not /alive/, anyway."

He was gone, and I tried the door. It was unlocked, and I wandered out. Cleaning the front of glass and the remaining blood that I hadn't cleaned yesterday, the sun eventually went above the horizon, and my break went and passed. By the end of the day there was a new janitor, and I was only getting paid twenty seven an hour plus the typical thousand, which still wasn't all that bad, because the new Head Janitor took most of the keys anyway, and became the one in charge of hiring new janitors.

"Well, kiddo, this Michael Afton dude was a real nut. Had a bunch of rules for the midnight shift janitors that make no sense," Honeynut brown eyes and hair of almost the exact same shade oddly fit the janitor only an inch or so taller than me.

"Keep them and give them to the future midnight janitors, oh, and uh, only one midnight janitor. I'm the current, and I'll call at the start of my shift and text at the end. Midnight janitors die at an exceedingly worrying rate, I'm kind of surprised I made it eight nights so far," I ordered simply, "The survival rate for any more than one janitor is literally zero, if you're curious why only one. And messes tend to appear if there isn't any. So, there's two of us. I clean the outside and you clean the inside during the day? I clean the interior on my midnight shift anyway."

"If the outside is going to sparkle as much as the inside does, I don't think I'll need to do much work at all," The new Head Janitor claimed happily.

I chuckled, shaking my head, "I'm taking the easy jobs, dealing with one hundred plus kids all making a giant mess? I'll help you out when I'm done cleaning the lawn and exterior."