I’d been unemployed for five months.
Don’t judge me for taking what I could get.
Sure, the late hours and unsettling house visits are off-putting, but a job’s a job.
It all starts like this: Job hunting usually means a daily routine of LinkedIn, Indeed, Monster, CareerBuilder, and, of course, the most promising of all — Craigslist.
Just kidding. I’m not into those ‘make five thousand dollars a day’ modeling gigs.
It’s happened to all of us while job hunting. You start on LinkedIn, click a cat video, skim an article, then wind up on Reddit questioning humanity. Before you know it, you’ve wandered through a maze and look up confused and lost.
There I was, on a landing page with a stone backdrop straight out of a bad 90s website, flashing: ‘NOW HIRING.’
I scrolled.
The screen blinked and a job board loaded: “Current Openings at Demon Tech, LLC.”
“Sure, this is real,” I said and kept scrolling.
The open position titles were:
- Soul Trapper Level 2
- HRIS Technician
- Soul Storage and Transfer Engineer
- Second Executive Assistant to CEO
- Junior Quality Assurance of Souls
- Mobile Application Intern (Android & iOS Programming Required)
- Custodial Engineer Supervisor
“Well, I’m not an expert in Soul Trapping, HR software, or scheduling charter flights,” I joked to myself because I am a weirdo. “Why not this one?”
I applied for a Custodial Engineer Supervisor.
The interview was straightforward: four hours of questioning, a blood signature, and an ominous handshake with a goat-headed VP.
Why not, right?
After a world-changing interview, I learned one thing: Demons may be evil, but at least they’re honest about it. Like most companies, their prime directive is profit. It’s just that torture and soul management are their best-performing services.
Plus, the benefits are great. Where else could I get full medical and dental, a 10% 401k match, and a fixed 25% annual bonus for managing a team of janitors?
On my third day, I passed a heavy iron door muffled by screams. “Just an internal performance review,” my supervisor joked, grinning at my unease. I forced a laugh, but my stomach twisted. I needed this job, right? The benefits, the stability—were they worth ignoring the cries behind that door? I swallowed hard, adjusted my tie, and moved on, trying not to think about what was happening in the depths of Demon Tech, LLC.
Oh, and they give six months’ maternity leave. They call it ‘ensuring future assets,’ but I try not to focus on the vocabulary.
Sure, I could sell my soul to work in finance, but at least with these guys I know where I stand.