Some days, he cleaned the floors with bleach. Other days, he had to wait until the remodels were done.

All paled in comparison to the building being ripped into the sky before his eyes. He wondered if he’d have to make up the hours. He realized it might not be covered in his contract.

"When I say I work for Hero Force, people always ask me, what's your code name? And then I say 'the Janitor' and they're like 'oh wow, what kind of powers do you have?'

"And I say, 'Access to the cleaning supply closet.' Which doesn't seem like a superpower, until the fifth floor restroom's out of toilet paper.

"It's not a difficult job. You just gotta pay attention and plan ahead. If AquaKid's in the office today, you know you're gonna be refilling the paper towel dispensers twice as often, you know? And they're always calling me in to buff the scorch marks off the ceiling whenever The Incredible Volcano is in a meeting. I keep telling them we should invest in black paint, but no, they say that'll make us look too much like a villain's lair.

"All in all, it's not a bad gig. I mean you should see what the folks at the insurance companies have to deal with. I get dental."

8:15 am

“Neptune flooded the bathroom again.”

9:45 am

“Zero tried to hang upside down from the crystal chandelier in the lobby. When Ivy walked in he lost focus and increased the gravity. I’m gonna need you to clean that up...”

11:12 am

“Larry sent the intern on a coffee run and he brought back regular when it should have been Decaf, for the Streak. He’s running around in the labs. Give him a few minutes to get off the coffee high.”

1:03 pm

“Can we get someone over at the Familiars Facilities? The pens need cleaning.”

1:24 pm

“Ivy was breeding some sort of... fly trap/apple tree hybrid in the labs. It ended up busting through a wall with its vines! There’s insulation everywhere!”

1:56 pm

“Nature Boy let a few raccoons out in the CEO’s office as a joke. I think they’re in the vents now... I don’t suppose you could...?”

2:30 pm

“The Alchemist was testing out some itching powders... apparently it’s contagious. Could you take the infirmary’s trash out? Say, this rash on my arm doesn’t look like...?”

3:37 pm

“Hey! I–“

“No! I refuse to keep cleaning up after these toddlers! I haven’t even had my lunch break! Find someone else to sweep up the next chandelier!”

“... I was just going to say, you’ve done really well for your first day on the job. You can go home early if you want to...”

“... that is very much appreciated... I believe I have a bottle of wine at home with my name on it.”

Did I make a mistake?

The new hire fidgets in front me, glancing at the time on her phone. She brushes imaginary crumbs off her university sweatshirt with her free hand then finger combs her hair. Her grin is far too many miles wide for this early in the morning.

This isn’t a date. What is she doing?

“It’s 7:45 A.M.,” I say, biting back my temper. “Three minutes later than the last time you checked, ten minutes since you clocked in, and eight hours until you can clock out. I suggest you quit time fishing now, or it’ll be a long day, Ms. Vale.” I glare as I stick a new mop in her hand, and grab my trusty old one. “Follow me.”

“Yes! I’m sorry, Mr. Gulch!”

She runs behind to catch up as I exit the maintenance room headed for the building entrance.

She’s still smiling like a fool. I can hear it in her voice. “I’m just so excited! What time do the superheroes come in today? Who will I get to see first?!”

“Aqua-boy. And hence the mops. Every Friday morning he checks in, eight o’clock on the dot. Follow his trail—,” I gesture from the company’s grand entrance up the curving marble stairs,”—to the president’s hallway on the third floor. Work quick to make it safe for anyone coming in behind, but keep your distance from the heroes, you hear me? And put some elbow grease into it—the floors should be sparkling when you’re done.”

“Aqua-boy!” The girl squeals and the sound echoes through the empty building. She dances from foot to foot, peering out the glass wall to outside. “I wonder if he’ll be in his signature swim suit?”

She looks demned near ready to swoon!

This is ridiculous. I made a mistake. She seemed so sane, so calm, in the interview.

“He wears a shirt in the office,” I say, dryly. “And pants. And shoes. Focus, please.”

“A s-shirt?” She pouts. Then she shakes her head and grins. “That’s ok!” She leans against the mop, eyes glossing over. “Just seeing his handsome face is enough.”

Lord help us all. I imagine the towering stack of complaints that will pour in from the the superheroes in the days to come.

Should I just fire her now?

I eye her warily from my post, inconspicuously shielded by a tall houseplant next to the giant sliding doors. Ready and waiting like a statue, professional bland expression in place.

“Over here, Ms. Vale!” I barely have time to say before Aqua-boy saunters through.

Too late.

He wears dark sunglasses, as usual, and is occupied tossing his shoulder length wavy locks into their famed messy disarray.

He doesn’t see Ms. Vale standing in his path.

So much for retiring in a month.

I step out to intercept her movement but freeze.

Literally freeze.

And can only watch in horror, encased in a faint sheet of ice, as the new hire launches herself squealing into Aqua-boy’s arms. Both superhero and my employee slip and slide, tumbling into a watery heap across the floor, slamming into another planter and knocking over a chair.

Someone chuckles from a side alcove. Slow clapping, Winter walks out toward the detangling bodies—her diamond pantsuit too dazzling to the naked eye, her icy spiked heals snapping against the stone floor.

Aqua-boy’s ex. A hero-turned-villain after he broke her heart by cheating on her with Lady Lava.

Had I not been so preoccupied getting Ms. Vale to cooperate, I might have seen her and alerted the task force.

“That was entertaining.” Winter smirks. “Down you went and I didn’t even have to do anything. Thanks to our splendid janitor’s new sidekick.” She bends over the pair menacingly, the water nearby frosting over.

After tapping a fuming Aqua-boy on the head, she cuts me a glare over her shoulder. “Hello Gulch,” she says with disdain. “Good thing you’re retiring. You are far too slow to survive this place.”

I can only move my eyes, so I thrust daggers at her from them—metephorical ones, obviously, but still I hope she feels them.

Fortunately the task force must have been watching on security cameras. They descend from upper floors like spiders on webs, and in less than a minute the secret band of six powerful agents—heroes who don’t work the outside—have Winter on the run.

One of them thaws me with an anti-skill device as the rest pursue our morning villain out the door.

“Third time this year, Mick.” Kels shakes her head at me sympathetically. She’s the only hero I’ve truly befriended in all my time here. Near to retirement herself. “No wonder you can’t wait to get out of here. I’m convinced Winter hates you as much as she hates Aqua-boy.”

“Maybe because I knew of his affair the longest. Who knows.”

He used to meet Lady Lava secretly here after hours in the Defunct Corridor, an area used to question villains as it temporarily disarms abilities. It was the only way the two with incompatible gifts could meet and yet the side effects of using it often can be irreversible, so their relationship puffed out like smoke.

I caught them once and kept the secret because I feared their abilities, but that once was recorded on security footage Winter later got her hands on. She blamed me for the time she wasted with him not knowing—so either way, I ended up paying for it.

Kels eyes the soggy pair on the ground. She clucks her tongue. “My money says a new affair is brewing.”

And she’s right. Unfortunately.

Ms. Vale and Aqua-boy giggle and blush like school kids while introducing themselves. Both of them trying to salvage tangles of wet, soppy hair hanging in their eyes while flirting.

I should be angry. I should stomp and roar and send the girl packing in the same manner Winter fled. But the sight instead is as tangible as the final piece of a puzzle sliding into place.

I know what I have to do.

I hand Kels my mop, smiling. “Mind hanging that up for me, friend?” I stride like a man freed from prison toward the entrance, unfastening my name tag and dropping it into a puddle. “I’ve been frozen, burnt, electrocuted, webbed, and everything else possible. I’ve earned this. Join me for a beer later!”

Kels laughs behind me. I don’t turn and look but just wave as the doors part, and I’m greeted by the cheerful morning sun and a fresh breeze.

“Eight o’clock! Hubert’s pub!” She calls out. “And we’re going dancing after!”

Me? At my age? I almost shout back “No!” But I’m pretty sure in my current mood, I might dance all the way home.

Dancing it is, Kels.

A thankless fuckin’ job. That’s what it is. Thankless, but necessary.

Ya think Ice Queen has the hard job? Must be SO hard slingin’ those icicles at thugs. Whatever those supes do ain’t nothing compared to what I gotta do day to day.

Ya ever think about what goes on after the fights?

Someone’s gotta siphon all the toxic acid Reflux is spewin’.

Someone’s gotta clean up the rubble after MAX!MUS has another freak out (I swear, he plows through at least 3 fuckin’ buildings a day).

And ya know what? Someone’s gotta clean up all the other crap the supes wreck. If we left half shit they call “collateral damage” lyin’ out on the streets, people would want supes outta the system faster than Taco Bell runs through MY system.

And that’s where I come in. Freddie Fuckin’ Lance. And no, Fuckin’ ain’t my middle name.

I’m an expert. At least, that’s what my resume says. “Expert in hygienic science and collateral damage restoration”. Basically means I fix their fuck ups.

Anyway, I oughta bounce. Just heard half a city block bein’ destroyed, so the agency’s gonna need me soon.

Okay, so you may think it’s just great to be the janitor for Bruce Banner. But to be quite frank with you, my faithful reader, it is simply not. Mr. Banner has no sympathy for my well-being, never bothers to make my job just an ounce easier. To lessen the heavy, pressuring weight off my shoulders, to free me from the burden of a janitor’s hectic employment. Well, as you can well imagine, Mr. Banner isn’t the most organised, orderly guy. Especially when he has his moments. When he spills hot coffee on himself, when someone forgets to tell him “happy birthday”, or when the worker at Burger Life forgets to put extra mayo on his burger. Then I have to deal with the big green guy who has a very bad temper. One time I forgot to wipe up the coffee he spilt, and man, did he get angry! I stayed for a second for the fun of it, just to watch him start to turn into Hulk, then I ran home. Lucky for me, he was back to his normal self when I came back to work the next morning, seeming to have forgotten all about what happened. To my dismay, however, I found 3 broken windows, a desk and chair knocked over, and various objects littering Mr. Banner’s residence. Ugh. Well, that’s how my day went. Actually, that’s how most of my days go. You see, Mr. Banner gets mad very often, too often, all the worse for me. Sometimes I get some nice breaks, when the Hulk version of my boss is called to an important mission by some mysterious person I’ve never met. I heard his name is Tony Stark. He’s really quite famous and I would like to meet him someday, when I get the chance. Anyway, I’ve gotten used to Hulk’s messes, however, and admit that I actually enjoy being acquainted with Bruce Banner, even as his janitor. And then I found out that I was going to be transferred. Mr. Banner strangely did not need me anymore. Well I guess I’ll find out if my new job with Mr. Stark is more “suitable” for me than with Mr. Banner. Although I will miss him.

I pursed my lips. Whistling a tune that was taught to me as a child, long forgotten by the newer generation. I paid attention to the little song as the explosions, yelling, and teenage drama fell behind me. Sweeping the floor, I enter an empty hall. Blue tiles with even bluer walls being cleaned by the best janitor in this school. Me. Me, me, me. Approaching the janitors closet I place my broom on the wall. I wipe my forehead a smile blooming on my face, my chest heaving. I open the door, to reveal not just the cleaning supplies, but another goddamn reckless teenager. I lean on the doorframe. Narrowing my eyes at the girl, unsure if she was a villain or one of those delinquents. “The hell ya doing kid?” It took a wheeze. Then a cough. Then an award look around the closet for her to come up with the awkwardest reply in history, “Wonderful water in the pipes today am I right?” I huff. That’s a new response, I gotta write that down once I get the girly out. But for now I have to get her out. I got better things to do. “Look kid get outta here. I deal with enough of you wannabe villains, I don’t need another one of your sore asses. Just take whatever you brought and leave.” I say, flinging my hand at the box she placed on the shelf. She pouts, crossing her arms in defiance. “Look hag. I’ll leave but I’m leaving this,” she smacks the box, “right here. And it’s not moving anywhere.” I cross my arms too. Cocking a brow in silent question. “it’s a glitter bomb.” She answers, with a grim face. “Bullcrap.” I say right back with the same dead face. “I’m being for real! Have you ever SEEN a glitter bomb?!” “I’m not talking about if it’s real or not I’m talking about you putting a glitter bomb into a hero school!” “It’s a logical ruse.” “I’m going to have to say bullcrap again.” “Can you just please let it stay?!” I facepalm. A glitter bomb. A goddamn glitter bomb. “You know what? Whatever. I give up. I’m going to lose my sanity to this school. What else ya want me to do, pull the alarm?” She pauses. “That’d actually be nice.” No. No way. That girl did not just say that with a straight face. I’m already letting her keep her stupid glitter bomb here and now she wants me to pull the alarm for her? Well I mean I did offer, but she can’t be that stupid not to understand sarcasm. Yet the longer I stare at her the more it sinks in that she’s being for real. I jut a thumb behind me, “Just leave.” She nods and with quick strides she jogs past me, “Got it.” I Inhale and exhale long and hard. I grab my walkie talkie, pressing the button I wait for the static to come on. “This is janitor Bob. There’s a suspicious gadget in the janitors closet in corridor C. I repeat there’s a suspicious gadget in corridor C.” I block out the frantic response from the radio and toss my broom in the closet. I hate kids. I fucken hate them.

As the sun began setting on the horizon, Jacob's day was just beginning. His ‘93 Ford Taurus pulled into the large empty parking lot. The day was done for most of the oversized glass front building. With just a few minutes until the start of his shift he began the walk to the side door. He walks past the security guard at the front desk eating a sandwich and playing solitare, scanned his badge at the metal detector, and headed to the custodial closet at the end of the first floor.

Every night was the same at work, Jacob would grab the bulky cleaning cart from the first floor closet, check the many bottles of elixirs and acids, twist the large rusted faucet to turn on the water supply in the mop closets for the 15 stories above, and then he would ride the open service elevator to the top floor.

The top floor was his favorite place to be, the full length windows that overlooked the sprawling flat fields of corn perfectly framed the masterfully painted sunset as it balanced with the coming night sky. It also was the easiest to clean to be frank. After throwing away the leftover napkins and styrofoam cups that were left from some great meeting of the minds, Jacob quickly dusted the oversized oak table and moved along. He wished he could spend all his time upstairs however there was bigger work waiting to be done.

Jacob ping ponged his way through the other floors. Starting by cleaning up the fire stopping foam that always oozed beyond the training room on 12th floor, then picking up the fragments of clothes that caught in the ceiling tiles of the 10th floor, he filled the laser holes and swept up the dry walldust from the 5th floor, and then it was time for his dinner break.

As he unwrapped his ham and cheese sandwich from the cellophane, another part to his routine began, a layer of uneasiness settled in his stomach alongside his dinner. After his dinnerbreak he would finish 4 more floors of mundane messes that were waiting to be cleaned and then it was time to head down to the underground.

While the 16 floors above ground were always shown in building tours to prospective heroes, the underground was kept there for a reason. Jacob finished the upper floors and then returned his janitor cart to the first floor closet and turned off the rusted water faucet. He then closed the door and opened the adjacent door that was hidden in the wainscoting. He stepped inside the small entrance and grabbed the heavy plastic and metal jumpsuit from the hook on the wall. As he zipped the suit on, he flipped open the small door next to his suit hook to expose the laser thumb scanner. He scanned himself in, put on the heavy glass fish bowl helmet and waited for the next door to open. As it screeched open, Jacob took his last breaths on outside oxygen before turning on the oxygen tank on his suit.

The next door slammed open to reveal the skinny metal stair case that Jacob always hated seeing, in his mind they only lead to one thing, darkness. As he descended the staircase, he reached out to find two cords, he pulled the first one to click on the large industrial lights that clicked on in sequence across the football field length warehouse basement. The second cord was a thin braided wire support system with a carabiner at the end. Jacob clipped himself in and began working.

He slowly walked across the grated catwalk over the large vats of superhero producing sludge to the first large drum and grabbed the wire brushed broom and net that were attached to the lid of every drum. This was the worst part of Jacob’s job. Not cleaning up the mundane messes that anyone could do if they just took a few extra minutes to look around or fixing the breaks that were caused over and over again day after day. It was grabbing the net and broom off the top of a stainless steel drum and fishing around for any remains that the acid didn’t eat of the hero’s that didn’t make the cut and scraping the foam off the sides from the days mutations. While the 16th floor was a place for for the executives to bring in new heroes, the underground is how they disposed of old heroes.

Everyone sees these superheroes in the spotlight. Shining examples in the community. Loving, caring and righteous. No one sees the misfits and wannabes. Whilst there are good eggs, there’s actually a lot more bad eggs. As I am tasked to clear the interview room, I pull the arm of a mental slot machine to predict what mess I have to clean up. When I signed up to be a janitor, I never expected to have to put out flames, capture bees, disarm wind-up bombs, gather pennies used as shrapnel. The list goes on and on and the weirdness of each cleanup always surprises me, especially when the crap they leave behind doesn’t match the kind of person I see leaving.

I know I make it sound like only potential candidates are making my life a living hell but those glowing angels in the eye of the media are just plain rude. They expect a certain level of care and consideration like a spoilt child. Whining that they saved the world so it excuses them when they don’t flush the toilet or unclog of it from their peculiar waste products. They leave their dishes out and say they have to run to save someone. Don’t get me started when they have parties.

That is why I need help here. Are you still looking for a job?

Usually I was to clean the left wing on Thursdays, but that Thursday was different. The heroes from District 4 were visiting to discuss the take down of The Secret Six; a group of unknown, cold blooded killers, who were known to stalk and kill district leaders. I was behind the doors of the main meeting room, when I heard them.

“I told you, just use the sword technique i taught you” a familiar voice said in an almost whisper. I froze, and focused on the conversation happening a few feet away from me.

“But what if it draws his attention?” Another voice replied timidly. This one was younger.

“It wont.” the first voice reassured him, “I’ll be distracting him. All you have to do, is sneak up behind him, and kill him.” He said this so confidently, and devoid of emotion, that I thought I had heard him wrong. Slowly, I lifted my head and looked up. It was Felix, better known as ‘Cat Man’. The beloved hero with feline eyes, and claw-like painted black nails.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, and beating in my ears. These men were trusted by the country to protect us. Who were they planning to kill that evening?

That’s when the sound of heels approached, echoing in the freshly polished hallway. It was Joy, AKA Sun Woman. I swallowed, praying she wasn’t involved, and praying that they didn’t know I was there.

“Is everything set?” She said, looking at Felix, as she raised an eyebrow. Felix turned to Arlo, the young, timid hero. He had just joined the team 4 years ago, and was known as the ‘baby’ of the group. Adored by everyone, especially popular with the younger girls.

Arlo hesitated for a moment, looking into the meeting room through the glass window of the door. “He’s ready” Felix answered for him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “He’s useless” Joy hissed in reply, glaring at Arlo. “If you can’t do it, say so” she said, raising her voice a little “and look at me when I speak to you!” He forced himself to meet her stare.

At that moment, Mr Stiles, our district leader, appeared, taking all 4 of us by surprise. “Oh, I didn’t know you had arrived already!” He said with a big smile. Suddenly he looks straight at me, “Marie, you should have told me!”. They all snapped their heads in my direction, eyes wide. All I could hear was ringing.

This is my first ever story