The woman’s body fell down the basement stairs with a sickening lurch that made the world turn like it was on stilts. She didn’t fall quietly. Every step creaked with the weight that collided with it, sounding a thunderclap in the silence that preceded the motion, and which followed it.

One thunderclap. Two thunderclaps. 3-4-5 thunderclaps

She started picking up speed after the first few hits. If she wasn’t dead from the last stab wound, she’d be dead from the blunt-force trauma that had rapidly happened afterward. Clith examined his work with an eye developed with a heavy hand and a heavier foot.

He glided down the steps, comparatively speaking. As he reached the corpse, he checked it over for anything that might identify her to any unfortunate passerby. With that handled, he grabbed its leg and dragged the cadaver across the concrete floor to a waiting container. He grabbed it as he’s grabbed every “it” over the last decade. One limb at a time. One warm, fleshy limb. It’s not always a Karathin limb, but a limb regardless.

Red liquid left a streak on the surface as he pulled, and pull he did. From the ground onto the grate. Here, the body waits for 24 to 48 hours, cutting the carcass and draining the fluid into the sewer. It would then be dehydrated and packaged for the chameleon syndicate. This was a rare alien. A shape-changer, and they would want to study how the skin worked.

Dirty work, but it paid well.

He straightened up. The late afternoon light shone through the thin cellar windows, catching some dust motes in the air as they crossed its path. He was naked. While she was cleaning up after he made love to her, he pushed her into the kitchen, seemingly about to continue the vigorous fuck session, but he snatched the cauterizing knife on the counter and started his true work. He forcefully drove the small tool into her abdomen and pushed her bulky figure forward towards the door.

He hooked his right arm around her while she stood still, hurling her body - him with it - towards the door frame, stabbing into her stomach again and again, until she stopped responding as she lost consciousness from the targeted strikes. Her body was flickering different shades of color as he held her chest-to-chest, staring into her eyes. They stayed like frozen beasts, unmoving, while the lights cast over the lower room. He loosened his grip, turned off the weapon, and let her fall down the staircase like a powered flashing lightbulb rolling down a hill.

He liked to seduce his targets, if possible. It meant he could be naked and wouldn’t ruin any clothing. Blood is easier to scrub off his skin than it is on his clothes. He liked to think he did them a service by giving them one last vigorous, passionate orgasm before they died. Most of the time, at least.

Clith walked to the basement sink and put the tool on the table next to it. He washed his hands and clutched the mop. Cleaning it now is better than waiting for it to dry, even if he didn’t mind being unclean. The wooden stairs creaked when he walked back up them, protesting after the earlier abuse.

The shower will be nice, he thought to himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clith was a snake-like man, with scars in places they had no reason to be. He was less than Karathin, not that he would ever want to be. He admired the guests. They always seemed so exotic and fresh. Sure, they made their second mistake in ever coming home with him from the bars and dives he found them in, whether they were prostitutes or tourists, but their first mistake was ever coming to Karathino. All the planet had was too much water and not enough space.

The water ran over his form like fire over alcohol as he cleaned himself of the blood. It was a rebirth from the man he had to be into the man he pretended he was. It was all in service to a greater cause. Maybe a bad cause, but good and great are rarely the same thing. He got out of the shower. The uncleanliness never came off, but the water helped. He lit a candle and said a small prayer for them as he sat on his bed. It was a modest room, but it was his. He never had the desire to be extravagant. Besides, the money went to the job. Everything to the job. His contact should be here in a few days. In the meantime, the air will fill with the smell of decay. He’ll need to acquire air freshener. A lot of air freshener.

Most bodies decay immediately after death, and it doesn’t take long for the rot to begin. He moves around his room with a quick, efficient air. The room was messy, and the job left quite a few belongings strewn about. He didn’t want his daughter to see his house in such disarray. Sorting them into various categories like “Recyclable”, “Trash”, “Pawn”, or “Gifts for Selan”. He put the mostly unused makeup in the latter pile. It helped him be closer to her, but no matter what, he had to finish the job.

He got dressed and took the sorted trash bags outside to their respective bins when he spotted a militia member talking to people nearby. Clith briefly ducked his head, but realizing it was a sunny day with no shadows, he looked ahead. As he turned to go back inside, the man hailed him. Clith shook his head almost imperceptibly and slowed down.

“Hello, officer!” He said, turning around and getting ready to chat.

“I just need a moment,” he replied.

“I thought they paid you off?” Clith said.

“The syndicate paid for the last month,” he leered. The Bluies up there are poking around again, so we’re putting on appearances for a good showing.

“Ah, got it.”

“Well, here’s a parking ticket. Sorry, I just need to make the paperwork quotas.”

“I’ll take it to the usual guy. Will I be seeing you again soon...?”

“Hopefully not, Clith. Hopefully not.”

They were a pain, but when the Guests arrived, you didn’t talk back.

He turned back around and hurried inside. He missed the days when he didn’t have to do this, but this was all he had left. This, and Selan. He began preparing for tonight’s meal. He closed and locked the cellar door, then grabbed a mop and broom (the latter being specific for non-blood purposes) to clean the kitchen. The mess mostly ended downstairs, but he also knocked over a few things. He kept the important decorations and items in the cupboards, but it was important to make the house appear lived in, to set the Guests he invited home at ease.

Selan would get out of school soon, so it was time to prepare dinner. He lacked skill in this area, as his late wife handled all the cooking. However, being a bachelor, he excelled in preparing microwave meals due to his extensive experience. Cooking for two was easy; just a little effort, some creativity with seasonings, and adding spices, hard-boiled eggs, and veggies to transform a bowl of ramen into an interesting dish.

When he had finished cooking dinner, he put the bowls in the insulator to keep them warm and headed out. The sun shone on Veridia’s cobblestone streets like a bright lamp on an iguana cage. The vines covering the light-stained walls were a perfect contrast. It was not green enough to make you nauseated, but it still provided enough contrast when the dark areas were covered in shade. He hailed a gondola and stepped on. The ride was peaceful, a sharp contrast to the brutal work last night. The layered web of streets and rivers spread out over the city was a marvel of engineering that resulted in most places always having the right amount of people for whom they’ve been built.

He stepped onto the dock the boat moored up against. The school was nearby, just a short walk. He compensated the government motorman to stay with the vessel until he got back with his daughter. As he walked the streets, he bled into the environment. A single blood cell in a city of millions. Maybe not the greatest city, but it’s still a city. They were all moving, flowing, bribing, and bartering, as if it were always meant to be that way. Things should’ve changed after the Guests arrived, but the more things change, the more things stay the same. Despite the universe arriving on its doorstep, the city stayed the same. As if the flow had been reversed, the corruption that bled from the city flowed back into the universe. They should’ve never come here.

He reached the school. While waiting for Selan, he engaged in small conversation with the crosswalk guard. When he spotted her, a teacher was escorting her. By the time they reached him, his mind had already assumed the worst, but he tried to shake it off. The memory was too fresh in his mind, and he made a mental note to schedule his next therapy appointment. While he was consumed by his thoughts, the teacher spoke.

“As always, it’s a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Perart. I’ve come to share with you what Ms. Selan here has done today in class!” She said, in a voice only a teacher can muster. “Go on, show your dad.”

Selan, tuned out and focused on a nearby bird, jolted back to reality and thrust out an arts and crafts project in her hands to present. It was a bunch of little toothpicks stuck into some clay. They had cotton balls for heads and they were in odd positions around a campfire, suggesting some sort of...

“Oh. I see.”

“I know your daughter has an overactive imagination, but I suggest you talk to her about it later tonight.” She turned to the small child. “Depicting people being hurt over a campfire is a no-no, right Selan?”

“Right, Misses Bethild.”

“If that’s all, I’m running a bit late.” He said. “I’ll talk to her about it later. I hope you’ve had a decent enough day, but I have a meal waiting at home that I need to get back to.”

He understood full well he’d done the preparations already, but he wanted to be away from such an open area. They wouldn’t have eyes on me anymore, but you can never be sure.

As he walked back to the gondola, it took him only moments to realize the driver wasn’t the same person as he was before. Instead, an old friend waited for him.

“Hey Clith. It’s been a minute. Miss me any?”

Lucius sat on the ornate railing, keeping perfect balance as the barge rocked back and forth in the water. He was an older man, with gray eyes and a greyer smile. He was a bald man, with who knows how many years under his belt. If you asked him, he would say too many. His skin wasn’t pretty to see, colored like parchment with pockmarked scars and indents. He hailed from some acidic planet, but that’s all he knew.

“Too much, if I was telling the truth. In my humble opinion, there aren’t enough workable men in the gondola business.”

He began to start the engine, ignoring the comment, and watched as they got on.

“What did you do with the driver?”

“You know how it is. I paid him more to leave. These are government vehicles, for what that’s worth. I sent him with a crimment so they’ll know it’s in expert hands.”

As they hit the major thoroughfare, he clocked the other passengers as they got on and off parked tourist rides. The waves lapped peacefully at the boat as they traveled through the borough, and the sea salt invoked the beach. I suppose that’s what they want, to make the Guests feel safe. Their ride continued like that, as He and Lucius caught up with each other, in the only way old friends who spent too long apart can.

“Well, it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. There’s always gotta be something.” He said with a distant look passing over his face like a fleeting cloud. “There are rumors of happenings within the veil.”

“There always are. What’s the difference?”

“This one’s big. They’re planning something that’ll get the Guest’s attention. We don’t know why, but it’s got the pot stirred. Work might pick up for us both. Thought you should hear it from someone who doesn’t plan on paying or killing you.”

“Thanks. I’m not sure why you like me, but I appreciate the gesture. Any interesting cargo?”

“Only the occasional nightlights and some fauna, the usual. Nothing special.”

Clith appreciated that he used code. Selan was getting old enough that she’d learn what job Lucius actually did, but he wanted to preserve her innocence as long as possible. Everyone should have a choice on if they want in, or out.

Lucius steadied the ship as Clith and Selan got off.

“Should I pick up the bag before I go? It’s on my way.”

“Sure. I’ll float it out the usual way. Make sure you catch it this time. I’d rather not have the neighbors know what I do. Bad for relations.”

Clith headed into the house with Selan. While she was putting away her school things, Clith unlocked the basement door and scuttled down. He clicked open the grate, and the body from earlier fell into the thin, transparent shielding called “Hiipth,” which would wrap around the remains, keeping them suctioned and dry. It allowed passage for smaller objects, activating only when larger or faster ones approached. The body fell, shielded, and was swept into the river. Lucious would hook it, pulling it under the boat to the intended spot. It was a bit earlier than he would’ve liked, but you can’t pass up free transport for something like this.

As he walked back up the steps, he slowed down as he heard Selan talking.

“Hello! How are you today?”

He bolted up the staircase to find Selan sitting at the dinner table, talking to one of her stuffed animals. Clith inhaled and relaxed, trying not to look phased.

“How was school today, my little friend?”

“It was alright.”

“Do anything interesting?”

“No.”

“What was the toothpick stuff about?”

“I don’t know.”

Selan looked apathetic. She’s been like that since her mom passed.

“Guess what daddy got for you?”

She perked up as he hurried into his bedroom to carry the items he’d scavenged from the deceased. The bag contained some makeup and jewelry she might find interesting. The lot also had a strange alien locket he’d tried fiddling with, but he scanned the item with his implant and it seemed fine. A moment passed before he gave it to Selan. Out of nowhere, the metal popped open. Without missing a beat...

“Who’s this?”

Clith grabbed it and looked. It was a picture of the guest he’d killed with a child of her own.

“I’m unsure,” he said, his voice steady. “I got it from a random market stall selling kid’s stuff. Must’ve been some strange Guest’s locket they thought they could resell. Maybe one of your stuffies could wear it the next time you have a tea party? It would look absolutely stunning on them.”

“I love it!” she squealed, and ran to her room to grab one of her creatures.

“After dinner, Selan! You can wait!”

He popped out the supper and laid it out, preparing for a quiet night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the meal, Clith went to take a bath, and Selan ran to her room and grabbed as many stuffies as she could. She seized Mr. Stuffington, Mr. Bert, Selan Mark 2, and obviously the great Tyrannosaurus Wrecks. Mr. Wrecks was a bit too big for most of the chairs, but she couldn’t bear to leave him out.

As she sat each one of them down, she attempted to apply as much makeup as graciously possible to every inflated part she could find on every animal at the table. Afterwards, she put the locket on Selan Mark 2, and some of the other jewelry from her collection around each of the other animals. The critters were covered in holes at this point from so many failed attempts to hook earrings and other strange jewelry into them she - and the rest of the planet for that matter - had no name for.

When her dad came back into the kitchen/dining room, she patted the biggest seat expectantly.

“Mr. Wrecks is the guest of honor today, but I guess you can come too.”

As much as Clith tried to hide it, she understood something was wrong. She never said anything. She didn’t want her dad worrying about her, because someone needs to worry about him too. That’s how the world works.

With the night ending, Clith cleaned up before they both went to bed. She was tired, and as she felt her form being lifted and carried to her bed, she whispered, “I love you, Dad” as she fell asleep in his arms.