I think we can all agree that Mondays are the worst. Doesn’t matter where you work or what you do, the start of a new week always sucks. It sucks, especially if you’re crawling through a freaking sewer tunnel at eight in the morning. No, I’m not part of a sewage cleaning crew, but I wish I was. It would be way less trouble.

I’m working as an exterminator and not the type you’d expect. What I take care of aren’t rodents or strays, not even people. I take care of, for simplicity’s sake, monsters.

To tell you the truth, this morning I wasn’t in the mood for work. Zero fucking percent. That’s not how the job goes, though. First you can’t laze around with those... things. Give them a few unattended hours and you might look at a few dead people, and that’s the best-case-scenario. Second, there’s Headquarters. If you ignore them, you wish you’d crawled the freaking sewers.

After a particularly rough patch on Saturday, I used Sunday to unwind. It meant shitty food, shitty movies and shitty bourbon, lots of shitty bourbon. Don’t judge, in my line of work, you can use the occasional blackout.

I wasn’t happy when my phone woke me up at six in the freaking morning. Not at all.

“Jesus, what the hell’s going on?” I cursed as I scrambled for my phone.

“Yeah?” I asked, still tired and still very much drunk.

“Exterminator 7D11087, we’ve found a new signature in your area,” the computerized voice of Headquarters informed me.

Great.

“We’re transferring the signature’s location as we speak. Our data suggests that it’s most likely a D-class incident, vermin type. Immediate extermination is required.”

With that, the voice cut out, and a moment later, my phone notified me that the signature data had been transferred.

I lay on the couch, rubbing my temples, and cursed to myself.

“Fucking hell, two incidents in three days?”

For another minute, I didn’t move. When I finally heaved myself off the couch, I cringed at my splitting headache. A quick look at my desk told me it hadn’t just been a single bottle of bourbon who’d kept me company yesterday. For a moment, the second bottle, which still contained a good third, looked almost too tempting. I forced myself to ignore it and made my way to the storage room.

This place would be a witch’s wet dream. Strange liquids, weird objects, old books, and god knows what else line the cluttered shelves. It’s all stuff I’d gathered over the years or that had been sent by Headquarters to help me on the job. I rummaged through the contents until I found what I’d been looking for. It was one of Headquarters’ alchemic contraptions. I’ve no clue what the stuff’s made from. I think it’s usually used to treat mental damage. Works like a charm on hangovers as well, though. I popped the vial and soon the stinging pain in my head became nothing but a slight throbbing.

Ten minutes later, I was on my way. It was supposed to be a D-class incident, so I opted for a single gun, protective armor, and a few gadgets that could make your life a tad bit easier. I also got my hands on a couple of flash grenades, but I probably wouldn’t need those. Still, it never hurt to be prepared.

The area the signature originated in was near the outskirts of town, in an old, abandoned industrial complex.

“Now isn’t that great, can’t wait to get over there.”

Really, I couldn’t imagine anything more fun than spending my Monday morning hunting down vermin on steroids in old warehouses or factory halls. Turns out, I didn’t have to. As so often, reality proved much, much worse. It was a literal shitshow. As I got closer to my destination, I could already see the sewer entrance.

“You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” I cursed in frustration.

I rechecked the data, but the moment I got closer to the entrance, I knew I was in the right place. The mutilated remains of some poor schmuck left no doubts. When I checked the body, I saw that half his face was gone, gnawed away to the bone. From the dirty clothes, I could tell he was most likely homeless and had made his home out here.

“Shit, man, why didn’t you go to any of the shelters?” I said before I stapled the corpse with a little microchip.

It’s standard procedure. When you find a corpse, or well, what remains of it, you’ve got to mark it so Headquarters’ clean-up crews can take care of it. Leaving behind evidence is a big no-no.

For a moment, I stared down into the tunnel and listened, but couldn’t see or hear a damn thing. Rechecking the signature data told me that there were three of the things down there, whatever they were. I got my gun ready, stared at the disgusting sewage for a few more seconds before I plunged in. The stink was unbearable. It smelled like feces, chemicals and rot.

After barely a few meters, I found out where the rotten smell came from. I also learned that the homeless dude outside wasn’t the only victim. The remains of at least two, hell, maybe three people, were down here. It was hard to tell. I pushed myself past them, but wondered what I was up against. A D-class vermin type was usually nothing serious. They were creatures the size of rats, maybe dogs. Dangerous, sure, but no problem for an exterminator like me. Those corpses, though...

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

With each step, the tunnel grew darker. I felt my skin crawl. I was almost blind down here. Even worse, the tunnel was old and had deteriorated over the years. Small crevices and holes lined the sides and whenever I passed one of them, I was expecting something to jump me. All right, enough is enough. I’m not walking around blind anymore. I took out a small beacon the size of a tennis ball.

“May there be light,” I said in a joking voice as I activated it.

I threw it down the tunnel ahead of me. It glimmered slightly before it flooded the tunnel with light. I noticed several strange symbols on the wall to my right, but I didn’t have time for some freaking graffiti. After a few more steps, I stopped. About a dozen meters ahead of me, the tunnel was encrusted by a disgusting, slimy web. When I saw it, I knew I was up against: freaking spider rats. I knew Headquarters had a specific name for them in their freaking compendium, but I couldn’t remember any of that shit and, frankly, I didn’t care. What I knew, though, was that the things were usually the size of dogs, the premature ones, that is. If they were fully grown though...

Shit, this was no simple D-class incident. I might be in serious trouble. As if to prove me right, two of the fuckers popped up right ahead of me. One was small, the size of a cat, and dangled from the ceiling. Its eight legs began twitching when it saw me. The other one, however, was one nasty fucker. It filled out half the tunnel and was easily the same size as me.

I held up the gun, ready to unload on the beasts before they could attack. Right at that moment, I realized I’d fucked up. There had been three signatures, not two, and when I felt a sharp, piercing pain from my right leg, I knew where the third one was. Right below me, gnawing at my freaking leg. I screamed in pain, lost my balance, but shook the fucker off. A second later, the eight-legged, furry beast propelled itself back at me. For a second, I stared at its wide-open mouth, the clawed feet and its disgusting, bloated body. Two shots of the gun evaporated it midair and painted the tunnel and me in disgusting, spider-rat goo.

“Fuck,” I cursed, raised the gun again, but the smaller of the two other creatures was already upon me.

It screeched as it jumped from the tunnel wall and latched onto my shoulder. Its long spidery legs closed around my arm. It was about to sink its fangs into my neck, but a second before it could, I pushed the gun down its throat and pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot made me wince. A sharp pain cut through my ear, leaving me half-dizzy and half-deaf. Fuck, way to careless, you goddamn idiot!

I shook my head and tried to steady myself, but right at this moment, the third beast crashed into me. I was thrown backward, pushed underwater, and swallowed a mouthful of the disgusting sewage. When I fought myself back up, coughing and screaming, the thing was right on top of me. A bellowing screech escaped its mouth before its fangs closed around my right arm. Pain shot through it and the gun clattered from my hand. Once more, I was pushed underwater. The thing’s claws scratched over my body, tearing at the armor, and I knew it wouldn’t last much longer. In desperation, I punched the thing’s head once, twice, but it didn’t do a damn thing. All it did was to make the creature even angrier. Its jaws tightened and ground against the bone as it tore at my arm. I screamed again as I felt muscles tear and tendons tighten. If not for the protective armor, I’d have lost my arm then and there and would soon, anyway.

The flash grenade erupted right above us. Thankfully, I knew it was coming and covered my eyes. The creature, though, had no clue what hit it. The tunnel was drowned in blazing white light. An ear-piercing scream cut through the tunnel as the thing finally let go of my arm. It retreated backward and its giant body beat the waters and the walls in a blind rage.

Shit, the gun! Where’s the freaking gun!? I went down on my knees and scratched over the floor of the tunnel desperately. Shit, shit, shit, come on! Finally, my hand closed around cold, hard steel. Just as the light of the grenade waned, and the thing came back to its senses, I unloaded the entire magazine into its body. It screeched once more before it convulsed and crashed down in the water in front of me.

“Fucking piece of shit,” I screamed at the thing.

I kicked the body again and again before I couldn’t go on anymore.

I stood there, panting. Then I checked my arm and saw a deep gashing wound. It was bad, all right, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed. I checked my close-range scanner, pinged the area, but there was no sign of any other creatures nearby. Well, there didn’t need to. Three had been more than enough.

I kicked the thing in front of me again, to make sure it was really dead before I walked up to the slimy web. I sprayed it with a chemical solution and lit it. In an instant, the thing went up in flames.

“Well, that’s that. Another job well done,” I joked as I limped from the tunnel.

I considered checking the holes and crevices I’d noticed before, but there had been no other signals. Fuck it. I pressed a few buttons on my phone to notify Headquarters that the job was done. Time to send in the clean-up crews.

Once I was out of the tunnel, I applied some bandages to my arm and leg. Hopefully it would be enough until I’d made it home and could put some of Headquarters’ magical pixie dust on it. Well, it’s not exactly pixie dust. It’s a healing contraption, but it gets the job done. Got a flesh wound on your arm or leg? In a day or two, you’re as good as new. God knows what the stuff is, but hell, I’ll take it.

The moment I was home, I took off everything and went straight into the shower to wash off the stink of the sewers and the damned spider rats. God, that was enough sewer crawling for a long, long while.

I slumped down on the couch, happy to go back to sleep, when my phone rang again. I stared at it. No freaking way. Another signature in one day?

I never knew a computerized voice could sound anything but monotonous, definitely not angry or frustrated, but I swear, that’s exactly what it sounded like.

“Exterminator 7D11087, the clearance you gave us could not be confirmed. Our re-scan of the area proves there are still organisms present. Please return to the area immediately and make sure you destroy all organisms, but also the nest. The creatures are multiplying as we speak. We’d like to remind you that this job is of the utmost importance and requires due diligence. We’d also like to remind you that none of our contraptions are for personal usage. Please find a different solution for your alcohol problem or there will be repercussions.”

With that, the call ended. When the new data had been transferred, I could see at least half a dozen new signals. By the time I’d get there, I was sure it would be even more.

“Fucking shit, I forgot the fucking nest! Those holes and crevices!” I cursed and threw the now empty second bottle of bourbon against the wall.

Fuck monsters and fuck Mondays!