“Faster, you old hags. At this rate, you won’t be able to achieve your monthly target in years. You – big green squishy monster – hop on the treadmill right now!”
His voice sounds shrill and hoarse, thanks to all the shouting this job demands every single day. Laziness in this place is at its peak, and the kid’s patience is running out.
“The name is Joshua.” The monster hisses at him as it jumps on the treadmill, starting it up at the slowest setting. I detest this work, but more than that, I detest these lazy, pathetic excuses for demons.
“Mark, would you help this fatty walk faster?” He turns his head and asks me in a soft but authoritative voice. The boy has got style, I’ll give him that. I walk up to the treadmill, and increase the pace until panting sounds start reverberating through the room. This obsession with laziness annoys me, especially because this kid works so hard to deserve every penny he is paid. So when the monsters try to be coy, I revel in putting them in their place.
“Loki, weights!”
The slimy offspring of a squid and an octopus stands up, but instead of going towards the weight stand, he starts to crawl towards the kid. I take a step forward, but the kid raises his palm towards me, so I stop. Loki stops inches away from the boy, peering into his eyes.
“This is madness. Madness stops now. I not follow you around like dog, you understand? I kill you, and take your body to the underworld. No, I not kill you. I only take your eyes. I leave you blind.”
The tension in the air is so thick that you could slice it with a knife. Expectant eyes rest on Loki, hoping that he will be the saviour they have all been wishing for.
“Mark, take him to the Red room.” The kid is visibly shaking, but he holds his ground. I turn to the guards and give them a small nod. At once, ten guards surround the monster, guns pointed towards it. Loki gives up and lets the guards escort him through the red door.
“What? Get back to work, all of you! I only need quality employees here.”
The commotion dissipates as people resume their workout routines. Everybody hates my boss, but not a single voice in this room will voice their thoughts for the fear of torture that the Red Room promises. By now, everyone has imagined their worst nightmares happening to Loki. Some imagine his arms being ripped off his body one by one. Some others imagine him being roasted alive, his body suspended on a huge spike. Whatever happens in the Red Room is unknown, but screams from the occasional visitors have confirmed that it is definitely not something pretty. Everyone is aware of one thing, though. Nobody who goes in comes back.
My boss instructs me to fetch him some milk and cookies, so I leave the room. How did I end up as the assistant of a five-year-old, you ask? That’s an interesting story, for another time…
Anagha Baheti 
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