Notes:

Welcome to (or back to) the characters that have consumed my very being for the last year and a half. If you're here from Captains, this definetely is far less of a casual comedy then that fic. Its a tragedy and a half.

Sam is a bit all over the place with his him-coded third person POV but that's intentional, he's a mess this story.

April 14th, XX75

In many ways, he felt like he was suffocating. His insides burned. His mouth moved but nothing really came out. It was a mercy; a privilege to die for the cause. It sounded too much like the army recruiters that used to come around the farms scattered over the fields he used to run through.

Sam wouldn't even be dying amongst friends.

Friends that he didn't even have, so what was the point in worrying? Sam wouldn't be here to begin with if he had friends. No one with someone waiting for them would be stupid enough to sign the papers, let the agents lead them off, and uproot what little life they had left just to die.

His new job was going to pull him down into the depths. A security guard for an upscale gated community. The job had a disconcertingly high mortality rate.

The reason for that was the same for why he was still was able to find new jobs with his reputation and resume. Hard to be picky with employees these days when less people were around to work, especially since most of the numbers were those unwilling to work if it meant unlocking their doors.

These vacancies were created by creatures generally called Mourning Beasts, for lack of better name hitting the mainstream. The creatures had been a major problem for the last years. The post-war high faded into panic as these creatures emerged. They came into your home and your workplace; they looked like your friends, family, co-workers, and neighbours. Until they began slaughtering and consuming those unlucky to open their door to them.

Not that Sam ever interacted with his neighbours enough to remember their faces, and his only family was his brother. His brother had such a peculiar way of moving and speaking that the one time a mourning beast had posed as him, Sam had noticed the deception almost instantly and caved the thing's head in with a frying pan. He hadn't meant to kill it, and the agency had never specified whether he had. He'd just...reacted first. It had been breathing when the agents had shown up at least.

That quick, fearless thinking was probably why there had barely been an interview for his new position. That, and his brother was a member of the government agency responsible for tracking down and containing these creatures. He'd put in a good word. His brother was much higher ranking then the lowly position he had been offered, although for the life of him Sam had no idea what his brother's job actually was. Just that it paid well and had enough influence to keep Sam above water.

It was fine. Everything would be fine! It wasn't like he had many other options for jobs with his resume. This was just the natural conclusion. The only reason this current job had been easy to get was the risk of working there. Just coming here had been about as welcoming as the back of a police car.

On each side of him was an agent from the agency. Their gazes were locked onto him, as though if they even blinked he'd be replaced. The police car was probably the more friendly option, to be honest.

Even the last time had been better than this. At least the cops had known his name. Everyone here just saw him as another statistic.

A lot of people who took this job died in brutal ways. His brother assured him this was just the news accentuating only the negative and the job was mostly safe, with the task force working every day to make it even safer. Sam knew his brother well. He knew the way his exaggerated smiles would twitch when he lied.

"It's only temporary, Sammie! Just a little foot in the door, and then I'll be able to get you into some work here at the offices instead."

Which was what brought him to now, standing in the entrance lobby with two agents and the property manager. His stuff had already been sent through the gates and was being unloaded at his new apartment, but it seemed like he still had more scrutiny to go through before he could join it. At least housing came free with this job.

The property manager was explained to him as Aurelia Roderick. She has an aura that Sam was familiar with. Indifference. It had been briefly explained at some point to him that her wife owned the property, and she acted as the one tending to day to day operations. She had probably seen it all by now. Seen everyone die by now.

She thought of him the same way the agents did. Whatever. Sam fidgeted in place, chewing at his already gnawed down nails. The agents and Mrs Roderick were talking about something but everything felt so distant that he didn't really process much more then the sound of their voices.

There was another agent in the place of a security guard today. Their outfit was ugly against the more modest colour set of the lobby and what little Sam could see of the office. There wasn't even going to be a proper switch over of employment as his predecessor had been eaten last week. They had just finished checking Mrs Roderick's ID, and she went to stand by the door that lead out into the actual community as the agent beckoned him over.

One of the agents at his side had to push him forward before he acknowledged that he had to move.

Sam clutched his ID a little tighter than he needed to as he approached the window-

There was no window. Only an empty space into the office where it should have been. Just the slightest remains of shattered glass around the edges of it. That didn't bode well. Neither did the blood stains, but well, that's to be expected if someone got eaten alive here, wasn't it.

Sam could have laughed but instead he slid his ID towards the agent, and she picked it up, studying him, and comparing the details. Sam fidgeted again as the silent interrogation started. He knew he wasn't a mourning beast, and everyone here knew that he wasn't, and this was just mandatory, but it still made him uneasy.

"Name?"

"Samuel Ashleigh Jameson."

"Spell that middle name for me."

A test. "A-S-H-L-E-I-G-H."

This seemed to be what the agent was looking for, as she nodded and moved on, scratching something onto the growing paperwork. Hopefully there wasn't too much writing at this job, his printing was awful. "Reason for entry?"

"I'm the new security guard." That reason was also stated on his entry request, but it was all schematics.

"Tough break there." The agent nodded at her coworkers behind him, and gave Sam his ID back, filing notice of his entry away somewhere under the desk. Sam assumed he'd learn about it once he was trained.

Sam went to stand beside Mrs Roderick. She turned back to look at the lingering agent. "Now me and the boy will probably be fine from here, gentleman." Boy? He was thirty-three. Although, Mrs Roderick was probably nearly twice that. Sam said nothing though, even though he had more grey hairs then she did.

The agents looked ruffled for a second but eventually just nodded. Mrs Roderick punched in what might have been some sort of masterkey, and the door opened for them. Sam followed her inside to a hallway, and the door closing behind them sent a shiver down his spine. Mrs Roderick turned the lock behind them, sealing his fate.

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