The ceiling camera—Aisle 17, above the busted Taquitos freezer—had shifted.

Just slightly. But enough.

It used to point straight down. Now it tilted.

Just enough to see the register lanes. Just enough to watch him.

He paused, adjusting the badge on his polo:

“Evan – Shift Lead” in faded print, peeling at the edges.

It still worked, but it beeped slower now. Lagging, like it didn’t believe anymore.

Behind him, Tabitha cleared her throat—wet and deliberate. She’d been on “lunch” for 54 minutes. Her eyes were locked on her Samsung smartphone, but her smirk was aimed at him.

“You keep pacing like that, they’ll think you’re stealing again,” she muttered without looking up.

Evan said nothing. He turned the corner into the back hallway, fluorescent lights flickering like a warning.

The Mahchine™ hum was louder here. Not in the walls—under the floor.

Like gears grinding bone. Like breath through a thousand Club Card scanners.

He reached the door to the Associate Surveillance Review Room—unlocked, even though it shouldn’t be.

A single sheet of paper sat on the keyboard:

EVAN39 // CLUB TIER VIOLATION

Badge Review: Pending

Clause 9.2: [UNSTABLE]

KNOWN LOCATIONS: Aisle 17, Break Room, Tabitha's Proximity

Action Recommendation: Escalation / Observe

He blinked. It was gone.

The screen showed only his own login, blinking patiently:

“Scan badge to proceed…”

His hands shook. The badge wouldn’t scan.

From the hallway, a soft, rhythmic sound. Like chewing.

Tabitha again.

No. Louder. Wet. Circular.

He turned. The Taquitos freezer was open now. Empty. But not cold.

And from inside, the red blinking light of a ceiling camera. Watching from below.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5698033&forum_id=2̃#48771425)