soy sauce

8:00 AM- 4:00 PM.

Every weekday. Holidays off. Decent pay for a janitor.

Hector didn't hate his job. He regarded it with the sort of lazy contempt for one's own employment which one sees out of desk jockeys and taxi drivers.

The routine was boring, and so was the work. Sometimes something would happen to spice up the action. Sometimes he would accidentally wander into the wrong corridor and have to explain himself to a couple of heavily-armed jocks. One day he even swore he heard screaming, followed by gunshots.

He was never told who exactly he worked for; all he knew was that it was some sort of special military division. Hector never inquired too much. It put food in his children's bellies, so it was good enough for him.

Hector didn't give it a second thought when the announcement came blaring through the intercom, "SCP-106 has breached containment. I repeat, SCP-106 has breached containment." Not knowing the severity of the situation, Hector went about his business.

Ten minutes later, it was time for his lunch break. He placed his cleaning bucket and mop back in the janitor's closet. It was only when he locked the door and turned around did Hector see the blackened, decaying fingers reach towards him. When they touched him, he became locked in a maelstrom of pain, more intense than anything he had experienced before. Then everything went dark.

Four days later, SCP-106 was re-contained. They never found Hector's body, and a new janitor was hired.

After all, somebody has to mop the floors.