You walk into the room and immediately shiver. It's freezing cold. You decide to blame the fact that the door hasn't been open in God knows how long. You feel along the wall and switch on the lights. An involuntary shudder passes through your body as you take the first step into the room.
Where's that damn box? You think as you walk further into the space. As you search for the crate, you can't help but shake the feeling that something is watching you. But that's impossible. Nobody has been in this room for years.
At least, that's what they told you. This job was supposed to be simple. But how are you supposed to find a single wooden container among millions of other, near-identical ones? Suddenly, movement catches the corner of your eye. You turn around, only to find nothing. Must be... seeing things. You keep searching for the crate, ignoring the movement.
And there it is. A one foot by one foot by one foot, nondescript wooden box with a red stamp at the top. You note that it's surprisingly heavy as you pick it up. When you turn back to the door, you drop the box in surprise. It lands with a crack, splitting open and spilling hundreds of small brown jars. Standing in front of you is a three foot tall being with large, almond-shaped eyes and no visible mouth or nose. It jumps at the noise and scuttles off. Taking a moment to comprehend what just happened, you look down at the floor and your heart sinks. How are you going to explain this to them? You hear footsteps coming from the hallway and two security guards appear in the door. You try to explain what just happened. Of course, they don't believe you.
And thus, another job is lost to these things. Why do they always haunt you at work? They're all over. Around every corner in the city, outside your apartment window, and most importantly, at every job you barely manage to get, just in time to screw your life up once again.
Oh well. You sulk out of the building and go home. Maybe you'll hit the brakes the next time you see an alien in your headlights.