The horror... the horror...

There's a small refrigerator in the back room of the store I work at. I didn't even know it existed until my fellow employee pointed out to me.

The thing hasn't been cleaned out since the store opened. Three-year-old food still resides therein.

I opened it because I had to see this for myself. It's one of those masochistic things shared by all of humanity and keeps the folks at the Darwin Awards in business. If someone yelled in a mall, "There's a rabid elephant brutally massacring everything it lays its eyes on right outside the front door!" the entirety of shopgoers would immediately flock to the danger like lemmings to a cliff.

Well. All the guys would, anyway.

So I opened the fridge door only a fraction to get the briefest glimpse of the horror within. I abandoned the action quickly, however, as the SMELL fiercely assaulted my nostrils. Like a living thing conscious of its actions, it spread across the entire back room, making the place a deadly malodorous wasteland. Thankfully, it didn't reach the sales floor and had, in fact, dissipated as soon as the next day.

But now I'm afraid to go into the back room. I'm usually the only person watching the store during the day. What if whatever is developing in there matures into a mobile creature, like in that Cowboy Bebop episode, Toys in the Attic? What if demonic hellspawn takes refuge in the fridge and I'm the only one who can stop its evil quest to conquer humanity?

What if my boss tells me to clean it out?!