A good old nightshift. (DSAF short fanfic)

Not such a strange encounter.

An empty bar on the outskirts of the neighborhood. No passersby or customers were to be seen. An old clock showing 8:15 hung on the walls with peeling paint, out of place with the rest of the interior. They were in a hurry. The bar owner had apparently acquired it from a garage sale at the home of a recently deceased old lady. The drink here was, expectedly, tawdry, cheap, and diluted with water, but Jack had had enough of that. It had been a long time since he'd had a taste for quality, expensive wine or champagne; no, only disgusting gin. Jack sat hunched over the bar, his hand resting on his cheek, staring blankly, as usual, into the far dusty corner. The bartender had not long ago gone out obscurely through the service exit, leaving the revived dead man alone with himself and his thoughts. Today's work day still had a lot to think about, it was an odd one, and the outcome of it might affect the work itself. Today a new night watchman in his twenties had taken a job at Fazbender's. A shy kid who was hired for God knows why, but it didn't matter. As he left his interview, he turned into the men's restroom - a cursed place - and regretted it. Someone, whose name need not be mentioned, stuck a Chinese grenade he bought from Matt in the urinal, not expecting it to actually work. As a result of this "social experiment," as the other instigator of the case jokingly called it, the new night-shift security guard was hospitalized. He will not have children in his life. In any case, at the moment, Jack hoped that the boss wouldn't find out about the incident. Though how could he not notice the ruined bathroom wall with the scraps of bloody limbs?

Deadman reached for his shot glass as he suddenly flinched. He heard the ringtone from his back pocket. After a little while, he hastily reached for his cell phone while praying to all possible Gods.

"...Hello?" - hesitantly he uttered. A second of silence.

"Employee! An unforeseen circumstance has occurred," an awkward chuckle was heard after this phrase.

"What is it?" - the man replied briskly.

"You see, our night watchman, how shall I put it? His whole lower part of the body got torn off"

"Oh yeah? How could that happen?" - Jack sighed in relief and, without noticing it himself, pronounced those words with a slight sneer. At the whole situation or just the unfortunate one - it is unknown.

"You're terrible at hiding it. You work two shifts from now on until a replacement can be found, and I'll voluntarily turn blind eye to the whole situation. Be there by midnight," and then the phone dropped off the other end without giving Jack a chance to say anything.

It would have been better if he had just been fired.

Anyway, he had to be back at work in four hours, so it was worth going home and taking a break to gain the energy he needed. It was going to be a hard night.

Jack sternly finished his nasty drink and, without paying, ran out of the pub before the bartender returned. This place wasn't worth revisiting anyway.

"I'd rather die in a ditch than drag myself out here at night," the orange man's thoughts ran through his head as he approached the service entrance of the diner where he worked.

Half the streetlights weren't working, as usual, so he had to make his way through almost total darkness. Jack searched his pockets, found the keys, opened the door quickly, and slammed it shut behind him. It seemed only darker inside, and the air was dirtier. With great difficulty he reached for the light switch on the wall. A faded light bulb barely illuminated the cramped room, but it was clearly better than nothing.

Jack had had to work as a night watchman before, so his temporary commitment was nothing new. He lazily pulled off his frayed jacket and hung it on a hook held on the wall by a pair of gum that had been scraped from under the tables. Rubbing his eyes, already slimy from sleepiness, he leisurely made his way to the next room and perhaps the only office in Fazbender's. "The first thing to do would be to turn on the computer," the orange man muttered aloud to set a clear goal. Jack walked over to a desk piled with crumpled papers and bent under it to press the power button. A deafeningly loud sound erupted from the speakers. The dead man involuntarily jumped up and muttered something angrily. It was like the first time every time! Now Jack felt completely awake and irritated, which is good for him - to spend the whole night here, if not more.