It seems like all the fighting has ended. I wonder how long I have been here, in this closet? It seems like hours, waiting here in the dim red light. Perhaps it has been.

My mind drifts toward thoughts of what might have happened outside, while I have been inside.

I figure there are two possibilities.

The first is that outside this door all the humans have been killed, if so then the number of ‘inmates’ would have been reduced in the battle, and those that survived will be wounded, and tired. If that is the situation, then my best chance to get to safety is if I leave now.

The second possibility is that the soldiers have won. The halls should be safe, and it will just be a matter of waiting until rescue comes.

‘If it comes.’

I try to push the doubt out of my mind, but the idea begins to fester. What is help isn’t coming? What if they just lock us all down here to starve, and then they send someone else to clean-up. I haven’t been involved in an operation like that, but one of my coworkers told me that he was once on the clean-up crew for a starve-out operation.

‘Prepare for the worst, but hope for the best.’

I steel myself, take a deep breath and unlock the door.

*thunk*

I flinch at the dull noise the lock makes, disturbing the quiet in the otherwise silent halls.

I observe the dimly lit halls for any threats.

‘Nothing’

I don’t let my guard down, there are some aliens that are good at hiding.

My closet is near a junction of three different halls.

One in front of me, one on the left, and one on the right.

The one in front of me will take me deeper into the prison complex, which is a bad idea. That should be where the amount of ‘inmates’ is the highest.

The one on the right will take me in the direction of the armory, panic room, bathrooms, bunks, and the locked escape tunnel. Should there be human survivors, this hall would lead to the highest concentration of them.

The third hall on the left leads to the sub generator, surveillance room, medical center, the elevator, and stairs.

My instinct tells me to go left.

If I can reach the surveillance room I will be able to better understand what is going on, I might also be able to send or receive messages from above.

I go left.

My head is constantly on a swivel, but I don’t encounter any threats. Atleast none that are alive.

There are signs of struggle, bullet holes, scorch marks, and blood, both human and alien mark the white tiled walls. In a way, the markings remind me of graffiti.

‘Just another mess.’

This is my mantra. These three words are what have kept me sane for the past year, and will keep the weight of what I see from breaking me.

Over the past year, I’ve cleaned hundreds of messes, and I've become desensitized to the sight of blood, and gore. But this is the largest ‘mess’ I’ve ever seen.

I pass so many corpses that I lose count. Most are human.

I feel an urge to clean, to make all this mess disappear and return the tiled walls and floors to their original white state.

I ignore my urge and continue my trek down the defaced halls.

‘Just another mess’

I finally reach the surveillance center.

I look around for threats, then I turn back to the simple light grey door. I reach for the knob and turn.

‘It’s locked.’