It's Wednesday night at the local Walmart, where a skeleton crew is closing up shop for the night. The night crew is settling into their assigned activities communicating through vocal shorthand across the store.
“Steve, go grab six boxes of medium bags,load 'em onto the ladder-cart and start putting them out. Harley, grab register tape, clean up mats and all that. I'm going to close down the desk. Let's get this done early so we can go home at a reasonable hour.” The front end manager is a tall girl, in the stereotypical navy blue button down, and khakis; lanyard laden with 'flair' hung around her neck, and a long chocolate colored ponytail. She pushed her bangs to the side and watched for a moment while the closing cashiers started their routines, before heading to the desk.
The night had gone smoothly thus far, and no one anticipated any other end to the closed store. The unloading crew went to it's last break of the night leaving the backroom empty. Steve ambled into the back, his large 6'2”, heavyset frame taking up most of the room between pallets and their respective jacks. He whistled some sort of tune to himself, though unrecognizable to most. He hefted the boxes onto a steel cart one by one, dutifully going about his work. Something metal clanged onto the floor from what seemed to be behind the bins of freight. Steve looked over his shoulder to the noises' origin, turning back after a second of shaking his head. He picked up another box and dropped it almost instantly. The young man fell forward onto the pallet of cardboard boxes, a spiked war axe buried in the back of his skull and neck.
“Ya think it was an ogre?” A harsh voice sounded from behind a shrink-wrapped pallet.
“Aye, did'ja get a look at'im?” a deeper voice resounded and the short man moved forward. He was dressed in furs, plate mail and a long red beard. His light blue eyes were set back behind bushy eyebrows. They were evaluating the corpse as he was joined by four of his companions. One with black hair grunted and nodded, dislodging the axe with a sickening 'thwock'. He let out some sort of chortle and gestured with the blood stained axe.
"Aye, he's ugly even by ogre standards...." The black haired one growled as they stood over the dead body. The blond boy never stood a chance...
“Where the hell is Steve?” The front end manager sighed and looked over to Harley. The girl shrugged and tossed a couple rolls of receipt tape in the air juggling them deftly on the way back to the podium. Jessica rolled her eyes at the performer and pulled off her lanyard, rolling up her sleeves. “I'll be back, with bags. The one night I want to get out early...” She grumbled and walked towards the back, stopping abruptly midway. “What the fuck?” She gasped, looking at the group of men, all clad like they were going to King Richards Fair approaching. Several of them had weaponry drawn. Jessica’s brow furrowed and she let out a soft snort as she was sure her eyes were deceiving her.
“Excuse me, but the store is closed...” She managed and stepped backwards.
“Store?” The red bearded one raised a brow and looked around.
“Yes... where you buy things. You're going to have to leave.” She said, her voice starting to waver as she realized the weapons weren't props.
“WAIT!” A tall blond haired fellow with long ears came racing out of the backroom, towards the group of dwarves. He caught up to them in a few short strides and looked over them, glad they were all accounted for. “We have to get back. That was a portal, and it's going to close in a few minutes. Please hurry before our wizards exhaust their strength. Has anyone seen you?” The elf realized too late that the woman in front of them seemed to be frozen in place. “Besides her, we can take her back with us. Anyone else?”
“Just the mutated ogre in the storage area.” The black haired on said and grinned, satisfied with the days kill.
“Steve? He's not an ogre...” Jess managed and suddenly felt bad about not getting the boxes of bags herself.
“Good. Grab her. Let's go.” The elf commanded and one of the dwarves picked the front end manager up, draping her over his shoulder.
“Hey! Put me down, you short little sons of bitches!”
“Ha! She doesn't e'en know ya mum and the lass knows she a dog.” The other dwarf laughed as they all took off towards the backroom. Jessica's screams were soon silenced as one of the dwarves heavy boots connected with the back of her head. The silence and blackness that followed were a welcome environment...
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