Kay fell back against the apartment door as it closed. The god awful smell of burnt hair clung to her, courtesy of one testy dragon.

"Could be worse," she muttered to herself.

"Kay?"

Her head snapped up at Jess's voice. Her roomie was only a few feet away. Kay hadn't even heard her approach.

Jess worried her lip. "Kay, honey, are you okay? You have this 'I survived the apocalypse and all I got was this lousy t-shirt' look going on."

Kay blinked a couple of times. The day was going swell until my boobs caught fire. The words brimmed and swelled against her closed lips. Kay didn't dare open her mouth. Instead she forced a long drawn out breath through her nose until she found the ability to censor herself.

"Just a rough day."

Jess stared at her. "Did you, uh, get a haircut?"

She had to look like absolute hell. Her roomie was tip toeing around her appearance. Kay's shoulders slumped. Dorothy's spiteful little fireball hit her square in the chest. It was pure panic that made her stop, drop, and roll, a lesson ingrained from elementary school, which unfortunately caused the centralized flame to singe the ends of her hair as she flailed on the floor screeching like a banshee. Was that an insult to banshees? She'd have to ask Stanley.

Aside from the danger of telling Jess the truth, she didn't think she could explain what happened to any sane person. Kay could attempt a boring lie or she could go to her sure fire tactic; evasion.

"I don't really want to talk about it, Jess. Can I just...do we have any beer?"

Jess's eyes went round, probably because she knew Kay didn't drink unless somebody died, though Kay was certain her life flashed before her eyes when that fireball came flying toward her.

She was rather disappointed with the results.

"I think I have an Angry Orchard tucked in the back of the fridge." Jess did another worrying chew of her lower lip but didn't press her further as she went to grab the hard cider.

Kay could have hugged her right then. That was Jess to a tee, so finely tuned to the people lucky enough to call her friend. Kay's chin trembled a little as the pent up emotions of the day caught up to her. She pressed the heel of her palms hard against her eyes, willing herself not to cry. The thunk of glass on wood startled her, before Jess wrapped her in a tight hug.

"Okay, you don't want to talk about it. How about a distraction? Want to hit up the old Redbox and rent a movie?"

Kay gave a grateful sniffle. "Long as it's not fantasy."

***

There was a comfort in routine. A comfort to the sameness of the daily grind, the ho hum, step by step, structured day of rise, work, sleep. It gave Kay a sliver of normality despite her very abnormal circumstances. Despite the hours she spent sliding through pixie poop and dodging fireballs, Kay slowly began to establish a routine. At six, she rolled off the couch and got dressed to catch the bus across town. She'd whittled her walking time down to half an hour from the bus stop to Fantasy Land Inc's front gate, where, 'Tiny' Tyson cataloged her electronics and waved her through the gates, and then, Kay descended into Hell.

Maybe it was a little harsh to equate the Grid to Hell, but there was an air of abject misery that hung about the place like a lingering fog. How Stanley remained so upbeat and aloof boggled her mind. Kay itched to ask if he had any odd hobbies outside work, like taxidermy or scrimshaw. She didn't even know what scrimshaw was but it sounded devious.

She understood why Fantasy Land Inc hired a guy like Stanley. Nothing phased him. Fire ball to the chest? He whacked it off like it was nothing. Unicorns snapping at his fingers? He flicked their noses like they were naughty puppies. Kay tried to adopt a similarly nonplussed attitude, but by the time lunch hour rolled around, she jumped at fast moving shadows. She got the feeling the inhabitants of the Grid enjoyed messing with her. Really, could she blame them? She had to be the most entertainment they had in years.

She knew Dorothy had it out for her. The dragon chased her out of the cell block with fireballs of varying sizes every day of the week.

"Why does she hate me?" Kay lamented during Thursday lunch.

Stanley paused in the middle of scrutinizing his meatloaf, though what he was looking for, Kay didn't want to know. "Naw, I think you're growing on her." He squinted at his forkful of mystery loaf, shrugged, and popped it in his mouth. Stanley was a man living on the edge.

Though his noncommittal answer laid the groundwork for another subject Kay itched to talk about with her supervisor. "I couldn't help but notice, the dragon block is very restrictive. I mean, they barely have any room to pace in those cages."

Stanley glanced up at her, his concern magnified by his lenses. "Kay, we've talked about this."

She drummed her fingers on the table top, her meatloaf untouched. "No, you shot me down from talking about it. Actually talking about it mean you explaining the craptastic conditions."

Stanley pointed his fork at her. "You gonna eat that?"

Kay pushed the plate over to him. "Do you have any hobbies outside work?"

He raised his brows, thrown by the conversation switch. "I like gardening."

Kay squinted at him. How very non serial killer of him, unless he used human bodies as compost. "Why can't we improve the cell conditions?"

He shrugged. "Usual corporate b.s. The bottom line of our department is already stretched to its limits."

Kay made a face. She knew that line. "They won't budget for it?"

Stanley nodded around a mouthful of meatloaf. "The food budget is pretty ridiculous. All the different dietary requirements get expensive, so if they don't complain about the living conditions, all the money goes into feeding and maintenance."

"Complain? Half of them don't speak English."

Stanley snorted. "Trust me, they will communicate their displeasure."

Kay doubted they were all that content with the conditions. From what Stanley told her, many of them were captives in the Grid for over a hundred years. The length of their captivity probably sapped their desire for better conditions after the first couple of decades. She couldn't stop thinking about the unicorns, gnarly as they were, milling around in that ankle deep muck. They looked more feral than content. Kay nibbled her passable mashed potatoes and wondering what, if anything, she could possibly do about it.

"Are we allowed to look at the books?"

Stanley coughed on a piece of meatloaf. Kay sighed and slid her water to him. She waited until he regained his composure before she repeated the question. Stanley rubbed his stubbled chin.

"I don't see why not. But try not to be too disappointed," he said. When Kay appeared satisfied Stanley gently tapped the back of her hand. "I'm serious Kay. Don't get caught up in the corporate side. It will beat you down." There was true concern in Stanley's voice, a wary expression on his face. She wondered who he was when he first arrived at Fantasy Land Inc.

"I won't," she said. What else could she say?

After lunch and tending to the pixies, there was enough of a lull for Stanley to show her the personnel office, where their department files were kept. Her first clue was the massive metal filing cabinet that took up the back wall.

"All the files are in there?" She knew better than to expect a computer, not with the company's electronic policy below floor five.

"Ha, no," said Stanley. "That's the past five years. The rest is kept in cold storage until they manage to upload it into records. Course they are about a decade behind there."

 "Only five years?" The cabinet was stuffed to the gills with folders, labeled in slightly smudged permanent marker. Kay opened a seemingly innocent folder to a logistical nightmare. Half faded receipts, inconsistent tallies, and a smeared page of columns of numbers met her. Was that dried blood? If she was an accountant she might run screaming. There was no rhyme or reason to the file, beyond the label of May 2015. The receipts were nearly ineligible, though she could make out the logos of local grocery stores, who probably appreciated the odd order for--Kay squinted--one hundred pounds of raw hamburger meat. Yikes. Was that for a week? A month? She remembered how much they shoveled into the dragon cages in a single feeding and suspected it might be a week. Stanley wasn't kidding, the feeding budget had to be astronomical.

"Why doesn't the company have any wholesale contracts in place?" Kay looked up to find Stanley staring at her with that dazed look. "Who is in charge of our budget?"

"Shaffer writes the checks but, uh, well, I have to stock everything."

Kay winced inwardly. Before her arrival, the Care and Feeding department consisted of just Stanley. They left one guy in charge of budgeting, caring, feeding, and maintenance?

"Where is the folder for this month?" A tiny version of herself started yelling a string of profanities. She was on probation. She hadn't been here a week. Would Stanley even want her help--

A folder landed in her lap. "Here you go." Did he have to sound so enthusiastic about it? Her supervisor was watching her with rapt attention. While it made her slightly uncomfortable, she couldn't imagine what it had to be like for Stanley, running five floors of the Grid by himself for months on end until Shaffer deigned to throw another 'failure' down here. Shaffer insisted the combination of qualities were rare, and Stanley admitted to her that she had lasted longer than eighty percent of his former employees. Not a stellar record for the department.

Kay opened the folder to find another mess, but one she might be able to wiggle into decent shape...with time.

"Do you mind if I look this over?"

"I think I can handle the afternoon duty by myself," said Stanley.

Kay frowned at the pared down desk her supervisor usually worked from. "There's no phone?"

"No electronics. Unless you want the phone to nibble on your ear while you're making a call, just take down any notes on the old scratch pad and we send it to Shaffer at the end of the day."

Kay frowned at that. She had a feeling Shaffer wouldn't make this self imposed task any easier, but Stanley left her to it and Kay made use of the next few hours, carefully cataloging the receipts until she had a better picture of the feed costs for five floors of magical creatures.

"Crikey," said Kay. She scribbled five pages of notes and suggesting on yellow lined paper, including the phone numbers of a dozen moderately local suppliers she found in the dusty yellow book tucked under one leg of the desk. She was placing the phone book back under the desk to stop the wobbling when Stanley ducked his head back in the office.

"I didn't want to disturb you, but it's just past quitting time and I know you take the bus home."

Kay startled. Had she really been at this for five hours? She was going to have to run to catch the bus. "Can you send this up to Shaffer?"

Stanley gave her a crooked salute. "Can do."

It was the first day she left the office was an actual sense of accomplishment. She hummed to herself as she hustled to the elevator when a soft chirping reached her ears. Kay looked up to find another sparrow, watching her from the top of the open locker room door. How did the birds keep ending up in the underground floors? Kay debated trying to shoo the bird into the elevator with her, but she was already tight on time and she didn't have the funds for an uber. Maybe there was a crack in the outer wall the birds used to get and out. She sure hoped so, nobody deserved to be trapped down here.

Though if Shaffer took her notes seriously, there were possibilities... Kay maintained her cautious optimism until she arrived at work that Friday morning.

"Morning, Ms. Oritz," said Tiny. "How are you today?"

"I made it a week and didn't die," said Kay.

Tiny chuckled, unphased by her dark sense of humor. "Well, enjoy the victory. Ms. Atwood wants to see you in her office."

Kay's stomach flipped. "Did she say why?"

"Nope," said Tiny. He gave her a meaningful look. "See you at lunch, Oritz."

Was that a hint she wasn't about to be fired? She mentally ticked off a list of possible offenses as she went up into the main building of Fantasy Land Inc and hesitantly knocked on Shaffer Atwood's door.

"Come in."

Kay entered to find Shaffer in another charcoal pantsuit. The woman had to have a closet full of them. She was surprised to find the blonde perusing the lined yellow sheets she sent off with Stanley last night. Shaffer moved a lot faster than Kay gave her credit.

"Have a seat Ms. Oritz, this won't take long."

Kay kept her cringe inward, but she knew that wasn't a good sign. Shaffer took a seat across from her, neatly folding her hands over the slightly crumpled notes.

"While I commend you for tackling that scrap heap of paperwork, I regret to inform you that I cannot implement any of your suggestions."

Kay released her breath in a rush. "But you're paying five different grocery stores exorbitant fees for meat you could get from a single wholesale provider for half the price!" She gestured to the pile of notes pinned beneath Shaffer's french manicured hands. "I compiled a list of possible providers we could attempt to contract--"

"It's not possible," Shaffer interjected. The blonde woman let out an audible sigh. "Your enthusiasm to improve the budget is noteworthy Ms. Oritz, but the Care and Feeding department must maintain its anonymity." Her nails tapped the notes. "By spreading costs between several markets, we keep good closed mouthed business contacts who happily don't ask why we need hundreds of pounds of raw meat for a company that should only consume a fraction of that amount."

"But," said Kay, "you could write a clause into any contract to keep anonymity. This doesn't make sense. And the food we do order doesn't seem ideal for our charges. The mermaids are stuck with smelts. They are like this big." Kay held up her fingers a few scant inches apart. The smelts were tiny and wholly inadequate for any of the sea creatures. "They have to eat three times as many than if they had actual decent sized fish to eat."

"I'm afraid the answer is still no," said Shaffer. "However, I will put your suggestions forth at the next quarterly board meeting in three months."

Kay looked up at the woman. Three months? Shaffer noted her clear dismay.

"Change is slow," said Shaffer. "Still, you are settling in well, Ms. Oritz. Congratulations on making it through your first week."

The blonde went about shuffling papers, a clear dismissal. Kay was tempted to try and argue with her some more but she had a feeling Shaffer had a great deal of practice stonewalling people. She couldn't help the slump in her shoulders as she shuffled to the elevator.

The atmosphere in the Grid felt even more oppressive today. At least it was Friday, two blessed days of freedom waiting for her, though she wondered who took care of their charges on the weekend. Did Stanley ever have a day off?

The answer would be even more depressing so she kept the question to herself as they went through the floors, feeding their charges. Kay now had the hang of things enough to take care of some blocks on her own. It was close to lunch time when Stanley burst into the pixie enclosure, startling Kay so badly she dropped half a bucket of meal-worms on the floor and her boots.

"Jeeze, Stanley, could you knock?" Kay complained as she carefully tried to extricate herself from the pixies swarming at her feet without stepping on any tiny blue bodies. Her supervisor grasped the door frame panting, even more of a hot sweaty mess than usual.

"I need your help," he gasped out. "There's an incident in the dragon block."

Kay's shoulders hunched. Dealing with Dorothy would just be the cherry on top of her disappointment sundae.

"I need you to make a delivery," said Stanley.

Kay stared at him and accidentally stepped on an errant pixie. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry." The tiny blue creature shoved her foot away and flipped her off before if fluttered up in a haphazard circle with one crooked wing. Kay almost reached to help it when it snapped its teeth at her. Moving on then. "What delivery?"

Stanley managed to heave himself upright, still breathing hard. "We can't miss tea time."

"I beg your pardon?"

He ignored her, fishing through the massive key ring on his hip until he extracted one with series of loud jangling noises. "Go down to the fifth floor--"

"The fifth floor!"

 "There's a tea cart. Earl Grey, ten sugars--"

"Ten sugars? That's more sugar than liquid."

"Cell #1134," Stanley barreled on. He slapped the key in her hand and started to run out the door. "Don't chit chat with the prisoner!"

Kay clutched the key, staring at the block door as it swung shut. "What happened to not dealing with the high security prisoners?" She glanced down at the key, which looked unremarkable, just like the dozens of others on his key chain. It wasn't even labeled. How the hell could he tell the difference? One of the pixies crept forward to helpfully pluck out the meal-worms lodged in the laces of her boots.

Kay waited a moment for the pixie to finish. She couldn't imagine whoever she was delivering tea to wanted a side order of insects. Who the hell drank Earl Grey tea in a prison? Granted, she was awfully curious about the occupants on the lowest floor of the Grid.

By the time Kay stepped out into the dimly lit corridor, she wondered if her curious streak would get her killed. There was the tea cart, like Stanley told her, an oddly cheerful addition to the dank atmosphere. One wheel squeaked as she started to push it along the cement floor. Unlike the upper levels of the Grid, there was an eerie silence to this floor, as if the occupants held their breath in their cells as she passed by with the squeaky tea cart. There were a lot more cells too, built for single occupants rather than large groups of creatures. Her curiosity was sapped by the ominous quiet. What sort of monsters did they keep down here? Max security status conjured some pretty nasty possibilities in her imagination.

At last, Kay arrived at cell #1134, all the way at the end of the corridor, placed at a corner junction. No sound emanated from this cell either, but she had a delivery to make. There was a fine china cup on the tray, complete with a pink rose pattern. Kay flipped it over with slightly shaky hands and filled it from a matching tea pot. The sugar bowl was filled with cubes and a complimentary pair of tongs. Kay made a face as she counted out ten cubes, the tea bubbling between the slowly dissolving mound into a brown slurry. Her teeth hurt just looking at it.

She paused with the cup and saucer clutched in her hands as she went to unlock the door. Did she bring in the whole cart or just the cup? An inquisitive chirp nearly sent the whole mess to the floor. Tea syrup sloshed onto the hem of her pants as Kay looked up to find another sparrow watching her from the nearest torch bracket.

"You scared the crap out of me, little one," she said. She frowned. Was this the same sparrow she saw the other day? The poor thing had to be starving or at least thirsty as hell. Maybe she should have held onto a few meal-worms. She looked down at the tea. There had to be enough sugar in there to kill a small animal, but she did still have a water bottle in the side pocket of her overalls.

Kay placed the saucer back on the tea cart and poured a bit of water into the shallow dish. Hopefully the cell's occupant wouldn't miss the saucer. "Here you go," she coaxed, pushing the saucer to the edge of the tray. The bird did move, watching her with bright black eyes. "I'm gonna duck in here, okay, so you can drink up."

She managed not to spill anymore tea as she unlocked the cell door and pushed it inward. She wasn't sure what to expect when she opened the cell, certainly not another cell within the already tight space, in a very Hannibal Lecter sort of set up. There was a separating wall made of clear plastic-like substance, air holes cut up high and a two way lock box structure to pass objects and tea through the barrier. The design choice screamed danger, until she got a good look at the occupant.

Kay froze.

In the center of the cell, on a faded purple velvet settee, sat a woman cast in shades of gold. Golden ringlets spilled down her shoulders, framing her heart shaped face. She sat, cross legged in a voluminous white gown with gold trim. There was a golden sheen to her skin, luminous in the torchlight. She watched Kay with bored, gold eyes, every bit as hard as the actual gold metal tiara that sat at a jaunty angle on her head.

Kay was face to face with a real freaking fairy tale princess.

The woman gave a very unladylike snort and rolled her stunning gold eyes. She pointed at an old fashioned clock mounted on the wall. "Took you long enough, drudge."