Finally, I'm done.

For the day, for the week, all of it. All done. Already? We're done building the newest apartment complex in middle of nowhere Alaska. The whole town’s population could fit in it. Although it could use a little color, a re-paint here, and a re-trim there. But it’s not my place to make changes.

So far, we have an airport, well, more of a landing strip, and an apartment building. A grey, somehow already aging apartment building. Great. There are so little luxuries in this barren town that I can’t buy bread half the time. Who’s going to fill that apartment building?

Something came over me.

One last look in the building, just to see. I shouldn’t go in after hours. But the sky’s dimming and frankly, I wouldn’t mind getting to go back home early.

I walked in only to see that all the doors were open. I flicked the light switch and walked onwards. As I treaded through the halls, eerily lit by fluorescent lights, I watched the doors close one after another. The ceiling tiles began shifting.

Don’t look, I thought to myself.

But the brain has its ways of convincing you. I looked. And figure stood atop a tile in the ceiling, having removed the one in front of it. Its skin gleamed from edge to edge, so did its smiling eyes. Grey muscles ran around and between veins underneath its extremities. Pale as the moon, yet bright as the stars, it stood in this dimly lit exclave between the sky and me. It was dusty up there, grimy even. People had just cleaned it.

Another appeared, this one sad. And another, this one lustful. For what? You may ask. My skin fluttered with goose bumps and smiley lunged at me. It missed. It missed! I ran, no, sprinted, I sprinted down the halls and down the stairs and down the road. Was it worth looking now?