When Michael emerged from the ash, he found fires burning throughout the room, and a distinct lack of demons. He couldn’t sense anything that was alive near him. Which was a pretty clear indication that the demon had either died or at least left.

Standing up, he brushed the ash off of himself and sighed.

That fight had been a disaster. The demon had simply been too strong of an enemy, and the method he’d used to fight it had been extremely unpleasant.

Regardless, there was still something he still needed to do.

Michael walked over to the center of the room, where the demon’s throne still sat. It hadn’t been damaged in the slightest, which made it perfect for his purposes. His deal with the manager was still in effect, and he really needed to take a look at the items she had up for offer.

Sadly the infected he’d tasked with carrying around the door had died along with the others, so he couldn’t just toss the chair through and call it a day.

So he took a seat and waited. The shift would come eventually.

Michael pulled his laptop from his bag, and quickly found out the screen was shattered. Alongside most of the equipment in his bag.

This was gonna be a long wait.

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Michael welcomed the shift when it finally arrived. Boredom wasn’t something he liked to deal with.

With a flash of light, he appeared back in a neighborhood near the foundation.

He quietly muttered to himself, “Took long enough.”

Michael lifted up the throne and walked towards the nearest house. He fished around in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a golden key.

He pushed it into the door, causing the door to warp into a generic office door with the label Manager. He opened it and tossed the chair in. He could see the manager stop working on a small wooden chair, and her face, or lack there of, lit up upon seeing the throne.

Michael sighed “We’ll talk later.”

With that he slammed the door closed and began his walk back to the foundation. He’d had a long day and didn’t feel like dealing with her right now.

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When he finally got back to the foundation, they quickly let him in and he beelined to his shower, he hadn’t bathed in several days. .

Sitting down on his new sofa, Michael turned on his TV and waited for Hearthgrieve.

It didn’t take long for him to show up, as he barged into the room with a smile on his face.

“Good news Michael.”

“What is?”

“We’ve just been given approval to send you out on field missions!”

Michael stared towards him blankly.

“What kind of field missions?”

Well, that’s a little difficult to say. I’m not exactly privy to all the details regarding your future missions, but there are several SCPs that we believe you could quite easily subdue. I mean you handed Able for god's sake. If you can do that, you can help us capture a few rogue SCPs.”

“What's in it for me?”

Hearthgrieve paused, “Look Michael, I feel like you're not a bad guy. These things are out there constantly killing people. You can save a lot of lives if you help us out here.”

After a couple seconds of deliberation Michael responded, “...alright, but I’m not risking my life for free. I’m sure y’all are going to compensate me accordingly, right?”

“What would you want?”

“How about my own house? As much as I enjoy this place, constantly being watched feels a little intrusive. The cameras in my bathroom in particular. You people just watch me shower and stuff.”

Michael put on his most sarcastic voice. “I mean you’ve seen me naked, how will I ever get married now?”

“Oh fuck off. I’ll see what I can do about the house, but no promises there. Now tell me about your last shift. I’m sure it was eventful, considering you lost all of your soldiers and damaged most of your gear.”

“Speaking of which, I’m gonna need those guys replaced alongside all my damaged gear.”

“Consider it done. Although please stop going through the D-Class at such an elevated rate. The ethics department has been complaining.”

“I’ll make an effort.”

With that Michael began to tell him about the shift, leaving out the form he took to fight the demon of course. Telling him about that was asking for trouble.

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Several days later Michael was told was being temporarily moved to another facility. They finally decided on the SCP they wanted to get rid off next.

It wasn’t going to be a far drive, but it wasn’t exactly close. Thankfully the standards for transporting him hadn't been lowered back down. Sitting in the back of an empty truck for several hours didn’t sound like a fun way to kill four hours.

The trip was uneventful, with him arriving at the new facility without issue. Although he wouldn’t have guessed that this place was an SCP facility.

He would’ve guessed it was just another office building, but that was probably their intention.

Once inside he and his soldiers got into the building, he was led to a room containing five large metal barrels.

They contained a rather dangerous SCP. They called it SCP-3280, living water that seeks out other non-anomalous sources of water and converts it into more instances of SCP-3280.

Since humans are mainly composed of water, and the implications of what it could do if it got into the water cycle, Michael could understand why the foundation wanted to get it off the planet so bad.

Michael simply had several of his soldiers sit atop the barrels, they’d be transported alongside them when the shift came.

With that, Michael walked to a blind spot in their cameras before pulling opening a closet using the Ikea key and walking through.

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He was quite surprised to find the Manager still fawning over the chair.

“You know it's been over a week right?

“Time has no meaning to me, do you see the craftsmanship on this chair? It’s beautiful.”

“I take it I’ll be rewarded for this like we agreed.”

She gestured towards one of the faceless Ikea workers.

“Follow that one and take any one item you desire.”

Michael nodded and followed the creature.

Minutes later he was in front of a rather sizable pile of items. A small wooden sign hung over the pile that simply stated ‘Confiscated Items’.

He already had a rough idea of what he wanted. He’d been using the mace far too much recently. It was an excellent weapon, but the cost of using it was too high. Its consumption of souls was a rather large drawback, at least morally.

Michael dug through the unorganized pile for several minutes before he found something that suited his taste.

It was a warhammer, although it was made to fit in one hand. It was similar enough to the mace that he shouldn’t have too many issues switching between the two. Although he didn’t know what anomalous traits it possessed.

Whatever, it should be fine. He’d just ask the manager.

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Michael sighed, of course she didn’t know what any of the stuff here does. If it wasn’t a crappy Swedish coffee table she didn’t care.

He tried to throw a few insults her way since she kinda left him to die to the flesh that hates a while back, but she didn’t even seem to be listening. Her attention was glued to the chair he’d brought.

Whatever, he’d test out what the hammer did later.

But he didn’t get the chance, because several hours later space enveloped Michael and pulled him into another dimension.

Two weeks hadn’t passed. .

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Space shifted, as Michael appeared in what looked to be a very cluttered garage and landed in a pile of junk with a resounding crash.

Several seconds passed before a man slammed open the door to the garage. He held a rifle and aimed it towards Michael, and he looked pissed.

“Finally caught you ya bastard! You think you can just terrorize my family like that? Got anything to say for yourself?”

“Uh, I just got here man? What’s going on?”

“Don’t play stupid. It has to have been you, it couldn’t be anyone else! Not get on your knees and put your gun on the ground.”

“Look, I know this looks suspicious, but whatever you think I did wasn’t me.”

“Don’t even try that bullshit. There's nobody else out here. The roads are closed, snowed in for the next two months. Does that make you think you can fuck with us like this? No cops are coming, and I’m tempted to just kill you right here.”

A woman’s voice can be heard deeper in the house.

“Daryl, what's going on? Who are you talking to?”

“Stay back Beth, I found the asshole who's been stalking us.”

Michael got more comfortable amongst the clutter, “Look man, I don’t really know what's been stalking you, but it wasn’t me. What I can say is that me being here guarantees it to be dangerous. That’s just kinda the rules I work under. If you give me a description of it I can see if it's listed in my laptop.”

Daryl looked skeptically towards Michael.

“Come on, just humor me.”

“Fine. let's see it. Go ahead, prove your innocence. You goddamn stalker.”

“A little hostile, but whatever. Start by telling me what's been happening.”

“My boy’s been talking of something watching him from the woods for days now, and I've heard footsteps up on the roof. The stench of something rotting's been near our house for days now, and quite honestly I’m wondering how you’re even doing all this.”

“You mentioned a kid, how old is he?”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I just need an answer man. If it’s what I think it is, you should be thanking whatever god you worship that I showed up.”

“He’s eight.”

“You said he saw the creature right? Call him down here, I want to see if this picture I have matches what he saw.”

The man hesitated for a moment before yelling into the house, “Bobby, get down here!”

Several uncomfortable seconds passed before a small child poked his head into the garage.

Michael casually waved towards the child and shifted his computer screen towards him, showing the image of a humanoid creature with a wispy beard and a warped body. Its head was too large for its abnormally tall body and it was grinning towards the camera.  It was covered in blood and holding a deceased child.

“Is this what you’ve been seeing?”

Bobby nodded nervously.

“Yeah, y’all are probably being hunted by the yule man.”

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