text: A man begins filming with his phone. Dressed in security uniform, the night guard had a grumpy look on his face. "Oh sh\*t, it's recording." He exclaimed with an accent so Russian that almost every word he said sounded like vodka. He tries to fix the shot to capture himself, ultimately settling with his face covering the entire screen. "Every night. At this time of night. This office gets infested. What is infesting it? Rats? Insects? No, no." The Guard walks over to the Meeting Room. He pans the camera over as he approached the door, which violently swings open. "You see that?" He says, completely deadpan to what was certainly paranormal activity. He then enters and turns on the lights, revealing three women standing in the far corner. They were eerily pale. Bloody lips and hollow eyes stared directly at the man, still and silent. "What the f\*ck are you staring at? And how many times I tell you not to slam the door, huh?" The lights flicker. A moment later the women vanish. The Guard sighs, looking at all the floating chairs. "You see? This not my fault but I get paycut? Bullsh\*t!" He continued ranting as he fixed the chairs back down. The lights kept flickering but he seemed unconcerned, cursing under his breath. "I don't get paid for this." The Guard switches off the lights and closes the door as if it was all part of his routine. "And now I'll show you the Director's Office. Hey man, after I show you this, you better give me raise." This time, he opens the door and switches the lights on. Small shadows scattered back behind furniture, leaving behind absolute chaos in the room. Cabinets were open, files crumpled, and the pens were stuck on the wall. The matted floor was littered with tiny balls of excrement and piss that had a terrible stench. "Ahh, I know you see that. Messy but no burglars, sir. Just Gremlins. I am very professional security, no one can break-in." The recording captures everything. He sniffs around and retches, coughing a few times. A crowd of mischievous and high-pitched laughter could be heard. A number of tiny shadows with glowing eyes were peeking at the Guard. The room seemed to darken as they multiplied. "Oh, you think that's funny? How about I bring my cat here after burning you all with water?" He cackled in protest, mocking the tiny creatures. They flee. A round of screams and whispers of fear filled the room. "Oi! You clean all this sh\*t up. I give you all cookie. I know you like cookie. But if you don't fix this, I bring firehose." The Guard shuts the door, keeping the lights on. He checks the time before making sure that the phone was still recording. "Gremlins are not bad. But they are more annoying than my mother-in-law. They are the ones who keep hiding your credit cards mister Director, sir. If you give me higher raise, I guarantee they bother you no more." He had gone through his bag, retrieving a pack of Oreos. The Director's Office was quite loud when he'd arrived. Putting his hand on the handle, he silently counts while looking at his watch. Just before the mark, he enters. Spotless. The office was cleaner than it was after the janitors left. "Very good. Sometimes cookie don't work. Sometimes they want money like little hookers." He narrated to the camera while leaving a quarter on the desk. The Guard left the room with the lights on, double-checking the locks before he moved on. Then he stops on his tracks. "It's Thursday. That idiot will be here again." This time, he exits the building. Nothing was spoken for a while as he walked to the nearby shore. With a flashlight in hand, he arrives at a lifeguard post and finds a megaphone and a key. "I know I'm abandoning my post but that's temporary and you'll see why I have to do this." He pulls out a half-full bottle of vodka from underneath the bench. "I am not drinking on job because I am outside premises." The soft calm of the waves stopped and the streetlights dimmed. An eerie silence engulfs the beach as it was plunged into darkness. The water retreats. Loud and rhythmic hums caused patterns in the dancing sand. Followed by heavy thuds and the sound of waterfalls. Clouds parted and stars shifted to the colossus moving in the distance as if drawn by its presence. The megaphone whined. With the key, the Guard lazily turns on the spotlight that he'd set up especially for this occasion. And there it was. A monster of vaguely anthropoid outline, but with an octopus-like head whose face was a mass of feelers, a scaly, rubbery-looking body, prodigious claws on hind and fore feet, and long, narrow wings behind. The creature was so terrible to behold that it destroys the sanity of those who lay their eyes on its form. It was an eldritch god. "OI, SH\*THEAD! IF YOU FLOOD THE SHORES AGAIN WITH THAT SLEEPWALKING BULLSH\*T OF YOURS, I SWEAR TO F\*CKING GOD." The eldritch god flinched. It looked around, confused. And then it waved at the Guard. Seemingly embarrassed. As the Lovecraftian creature descended once more to the depths, the world returned to normal. Just as the Guard came down from the post, however, the waves came rushing in. That night, a flurry of curses that would've made the devil cry was heard. "As you can see, I have to do this so that you can still have an office and I would have a job. Pretty good, ah?" He explained to the camera, which was the only thing left dry. "My shift today is almost done. Later I need to get silver bullets for the full moon. Consider company insurance, please." He lights a cigar whilst getting out of his soaked garments, revealing a bear-like bod. "Oh, and my raise. I want raise. Give me raise. If you don't give me raise..." He puffs out a ring of smoke whilst checking if his gun was also wet, looking at the camera with his grumpy expression while cocking the pistol. "Enjoy the next 24 hours." The recording comes to an end.