 The words had been spray painted on the entrance to the tower block. In the past age, here be monsters was shorthand for this place is unmapped, so don't ask us. But what did it mean in 2021? I'd been working as a security guard for six weeks. I saw the advert for the job in a local newspaper. It was minimum wage, involved working evenings and weekends. No experience was necessary, but you needed to bring your own dog. I could see how a dog would come in useful. But there was a hitch. I didn't have one. However, I knew a man who did. Maul lived on the same scummy estate I did. Like most of my acquaintances, he was big time into booze and pills, anything he could get his hands on. He used to call his little bags of drugs package holidays because they took him far away from here. I didn't do drugs. I still had a sliver of hope that there was a better life for me than this. Maul's dog was called a riptide. I had no idea why. It was a crossbreed of crossbreeds, and I'm not sure it was the brightest. But after I'd asked Maul if I could borrow the dog in his eyes seriously glazed, he'd nodded. Riptide padded over to me happily when I called and we set off to my job interview. I got the job, or perhaps I should say we got the job. It was to guard the perimeter fence of a derelict tower block that was due for demolition. When I was arriving for my shifts, riptide at my side chewing on his lead, I would see the engineers leaving. They seemed to be laying a system of wires and explosive devices around the base of the building. It was pretty cool stuff. My role was to walk with riptide in a big circle for hours on end. It was actually okay. Better than sitting in my flat waiting for something good to come on the TV and riptide seemed to be enjoying the fresh air and exercise. His fur, which had fallen out in lumps around his ears, had even started to grow back. So it was a disappointment when I was told the job was coming to an end. The tower block was scheduled to be demolished later that same day. I was, though, offered an extra bit of work. Someone needed to inspect the tower block to check that there was no one in there before the controlled explosion brought it down. It was a few extra pounds in my pockets, so I said sure. Which was how I found myself struggling with the rusted padlock on the main entrance to the tower block and wondering at the graffiti. Finally, the key turned and I was inside. I had to leave riptide behind. He was tied up to an overturned shopping trolley that had been laying by the door. For some reason, he'd become totally skittish when I tried to take him into the tower block. He was a daft mutt, but I'd grown quite fond of him and saw no reason to stress him out. My bosses had made it clear that this was a ticking the box exercise. I was to get in, have a quick look around, and if anyone asked, say I'd been in every room. I looked back and told riptide, I won't be long, boy. He looked at me, his tongue flapping out of one side of his mouth, and I carried on my way. The first thing I noticed as I walked along the ground floor hallway was the smell. It was almost, well, the best word I can think of is solid. The smell, whatever was carried in it, made my eyes sting and made me feel sick. I could taste it. It was sickly sweet. Something had gone off, smells like the whole bloody tower block, I thought, and plowed on. There was no electricity, no anything in fact, connecting the place with the outside world, but I could just about make out where I was going. Doors lined the hallway, each adorned with plastic numbers. Some of the doors were open, and I glanced inside. A few items of furniture remained, but there was no sign of anything personal. No photos, no books. Once I figured these had been people's homes. Now they were filthy empty spaces. I walked on. I decided I would get to the end of this corridor, then call it a day. My eyes were adjusting to the gloom, and I began to make out dark smears on the wall. I looked closer. It was actually some type of mold, and now I'd noticed it. I could see it was everywhere on the walls and the ceiling. Dotted around in the mold were small bulbous growths. They looked like some kind of fungus. If Maul had been here, he would have most likely collected a few and made a soup of them to see if they had any hallucinatory qualities. I gagged and continued down the hallway. I passed another open door and came to an abrupt halt. Swore. There was a body in there. Some poor bastard had died alone and had been forgotten about and left to rot. Then I saw the corpse was wearing a watch. It looked really good quality. It was a knock off, a fake, must have been. But still I knew I could get 50 quid for it easily, maybe even a hundred. And no one would ever find out what I'd done. I'm not proud of this, but that was a lot of money to me. I stepped into the room. A cloud of flies rose off the body. I flinched, but kept going. As I got closer, I could see that the man's face was bloated and was covered in patches with the same dark mold that was on the walls and ceilings, and that there was a cluster of fungus on his left cheek. My hands were shaking as I reached down and unclipped the watch, and then, I don't know, the fungal things growing on his face were repulsive, but also fascinating. I reached out and prodded one gently with the tip of my finger. Something broke open, and there was a release. I heard it, almost like the man had sighed, and I could see a small cloud of something that had been inside the fungus drifting towards me. Spores, I thought, and clamped my mouth shut and put my hand over my nose, hoping that I had not already breathed some in. That was it. It was time to get out of there. I pocketed the watch and hurried out of the flat. In moments, I was starting to sweat and get dizzy. I had had my drink spiked once, and it felt very much like this. The hallway started to feel very uneven, and then I saw it. Him, a man had stepped out of one of the apartments and was facing me, blocking my way. His skin, where it was exposed, was covered in a dark mold, and fungus grew on his face and his neck, his hands, his belly, where it overhung his jeans. The sweat on my face felt ice cold. Adrenaline tore through me. Should I fight or run? But I was too frightened to do anything, but stand there and say, what the hell are you? We are what is left behind. The man replied. His lips were swollen with a gross, and I wondered if his tongue was as well because his words were slurred. Please don't hurt me. I begged. We don't want to hurt you. The man said, we just want. What is ours? He seemed to be looking beyond me, so I turned. The man I'd taken the watch from was standing behind me. His hand was held out. Each finger dark and covered in the fungus growing from his fertile flesh. The watch. The man that blocked my way out of this nightmare said, give him the watch. I managed to get the watch out and dropped it into the outstretched palm. Then I looked back towards the entrance to the tower block. The man had gone, and behind me I could hear shuffling footsteps moving away. I ran. The feel of the air outside, the taste of it as I burst out of the doorway, was incredible. I stood there, gasping. Riptide was looking up at me, his tongue still hanging out of the side of his mouth, his tail now wagging. I burst out laughing, then bent double and vomited. I didn't say anything to the bosses. My head was spinning, and I just wanted paying and then to never see this place again. I didn't hang around for the demolition, though I heard it as I walked back to my estate. I don't know what the things were that I saw, whether they were real or given shape by a heightened state, but that is not what's scaring me. When the tower block was demolished, were countless spores released? Are they drifting through the air soon to settle on people's cars? Their homes, their clothes, their skin, if they do, nothing will ever be the same again.