I walked in the next morning, fired up and raring to go.

  The Revenge of the Cleaning Warlock.

  Sadly, I work in… reality. Which somehow means a cursed Goblin Store. So things never go the way I want.

  Anyway, I open the door and there standing at the counter — of all people, was Grif, talking to Vaarg.

  Like they were old friends. Which I knew was wrong because there was no way anyone was Vaarg’s friend.

  Grif looked up at the sad wheeze that escaped the doorbell, taking a moment to look me over.

  “Beeg?!” He exclaimed, recognition and incredulity dawning in equal measure. I couldn’t help but smile — he had remembered me.

  “I can’t believe you’re not dead!” He blurted.

  The smile abruptly died on my face.

  “I mean don’t get me wrong, I’m so glad you made it!” He continued, entirely too enthusiastic for my liking.

  “Said to myself, that kid is going to be dead in a week — two weeks tops,” he guffawed, gesturing to Vaarg as if to say get a load of this guy.

  “Honestly, I only thought two because I liked you, one was way more likely,” he finished thoughtfully.

  Then he glanced me over.

  “Hells, I really can’t believe you’re still around - it’s great to see you,” he smiled.

  “Grif, that was the worst ‘great to see you greeting’ I have ever heard,” I sighed. He looked genuinely confused, as if he couldn’t fathom why the words that just came out of his mouth could be anything other than welcoming and kind.

  “Do workers really die here that often?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

  “Mmm, not as much anymore. You are the first new hire in a long time. Hard for people to knock off when you don’t hire them in the first place." He winked at me here.

  "Anyway, Certainly helped with the death toll. Store still eats plenty of thieves though.”

  That I could attest to.

  “Hmm, the last bunch of employees… three of them I think it was?” He scrunched his brows in concentration.

  “Yeah three — Blurp, Skrnikuy and uhh… Bob, I think it was? Nice kids, ended up cursed though.”

  He chuckled. “I’m pretty sure Vaarg here bottled ‘em up and tried to sell them.”

  “Isn’t that right?” He turned back to ask Vaarg.

  “What?” Vaarg asked, lowering his mug and looking over his clipboard.

  “The one’s we were talking about,” Grif said.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “I have no idea what you were talking about,” Vaarg said dismissively.

  “Your three cursed employees,” Grif deadpanned.

  “Oh." He paused to think a moment.

  "Eh, they are still on a shelf around here somewhere,” he gestured vaguely, sinking back behind his clipboard.

  I felt my jaw on the floor.

  “Can’t you like… remove the curse or something?” I managed to strangle out.

  Vaarg raised an eyebrow over his clipboard.

  “Some curses yes, some no,” Vaarg grunted. “But why would I ever bother wasting time curing an employee dumb enough to get cursed?”

  He sounded genuinely confused.

  He and Grif have a lot in common, I realized.

  I also realized I was really lucky to be here right now.

  Not in this crazy store.

  Alive. As in I was lucky to be standing here right now.

  Because I had been cursed.

  But he had de-cursed me for some reason.

  "Oh Ancients," I whimpered, "I could've been in a bottle right now."

  I paused.

  "I could have been a bottle."

  As I stood there — vaguely terrified but mostly numb, Grif and Vaarg promptly forgot about me, turning back to talking about… whatever it was they were talking about.

  I was too shell shocked to pick up on what it was.

  “Morning Beeg,” Stupid skipped up beside me, slipping one of her tiny hands into mine.

  “Oh uh, hey Stupid,” I mumbled. Something was lurking on the back of my mind. Something I felt like I should remember. Something —

  Right! I had forgotten about the new girl on Aisle 6.

  Aisle 6.

  This… was before I knew what Aisle 6 was.

  I have a bad feeling about this.

  “Hey Stupid?” I asked, glancing down at her. She had bright pink lipstick smeared all over her face today as she smiled up at me.

  “Yeth Beeg?”

  “What happened to the new girl on Aisle 6?” I asked carefully.

  “What new girl?” She asked. I could see the gears trying to turn in her head as she sought to remember, but they just weren’t turning.

  It was almost heartbreaking to watch.

  “Vaarg mentioned something about a new girl… right around the time Workman’s Comp showed up? She was on Aisle 6?” I prompted.

  “Oh!” She exclaimed, jumping up and down excitedly. "Stupid loves Workman's Comp! He is best pony!"

  I smiled through my grimace. "The new girl, Stupid?"

  "OH! Right!" she nodded, ears flopping wildly.

  “She died Beeg!” She beamed, taking her hand out of mine and smooshing her two palms together. “BEEG SMOOSH!”

  She timed her palms smooshing together with her feet landing on the floor, causing her ears to flail madly.

  “So no new girl now!” She exclaimed, zooming in circles with her arms out like a bird as her ears trailed behind her.

  “Ancients. Above.” I whispered as I picked my jaw up off the floor.

  I… maybe I had been too hard on the cloaks from Aisle 2? I had thought they were being bullies, but maybe they were genuinely afraid for their lives?

  I had thought everyone was joking the other day about not cleaning. Like a kind of endearment for Beeg or something.

  I think I was drastically wrong.

  I heard the doorbell wheeze behind me. I turned to look, but no one was there.

  It wheezed once more.

  I patted the doorjamb. “Thanks,” I whispered, touched at the store’s efforts the help me feel better.

  Somewhere in the depths of an Aisle, the store creaked happily in response.

  Anyone else would be terrified, I thought to myself.

  Not me.

  I should probably be more terrified that I am not terrified.

  I shrugged and shuffled off to my aisle.