One might think that being the night-time janitor in a public school would be one of the most monotonous jobs in existence. Well, I certainly did - and for quite a while too. I had been polishing floors, organizing closets, sweeping classrooms, and unclogging toilets - make note of that last one - for Hawthorne High for over a decade now, and nothing out of the ordinary had ever happened.

Not. Even. Once.

Well, I guess some people would count the time I found bats nesting in the air ducts of the chemistry classroom as something out of the ordinary - I certainly did at the time. I took pictures - selfies even - with the bats, before relocating them with extreme prejudice. Don't worry, the bats are fine; I just sort of tossed them up into the night sky, and prayed to whatever dead gods there are that they wouldn't come back. They actually did come back - twice. I ended up having to seal the holes in the roof of the hallway that they had apparently been accessing the duct system through. A little above my paygrade, but, hey, I had a score to settle with those bats.

But let me address the actual subject matter: the thing that happened that was so out of the ordinary.

It was the 12th of March, and the Winter temperatures had finally started to climb out of their icy depths, and I had been on duty for 4 hours - it was 2 in the morning. Next on the list of things to do was bathrooms. I always started with the staff bathrooms, then the girls' bathroom, then finished with the boys' bathroom. Why that particular order, you ask? I'd found over my tenure there that this was the order to clean in terms of most to least messy - and I preferred to get the biggest messes out of the way first. I'm not making some grand statement about leadership or gender here - ask any janitor and they'll tell you the same thing: girls are more messy than boys, and staff treat their bathrooms as some kind of personal shit-palace ; no regard for the cleaners at all.

Anyways, I had finally made it to the boys bathroom and was having particular trouble with a particular toilet.

"Damn, this is clogged bad!" I said, "Whoever shat here last needs their bathroom privileges revoked."

An impossible wish of course. I'm just a janitor, not a forensic shit investigator.

I put my whole bodily force into that plunger, and that's when it happened. I fell back onto my ass and looked up in sheer terror as a scaly sapphire dragon slithered out of the toilet and flew into the space above me. It wasn't draconic in size; it was about the size of a boa constrictor and had little claws, whiskers, and no wings - east Asian style.

I will admit. I screamed. Loud. In response it roared back at me - which made me scream again. Which made it roar again. I'm not going to freely admit how long this cycle went on, but it did go on for quite a while - probably much longer than it needed to, or would have, had it been someone other than me. But give me a break, okay? It's not every day you see a fucking dragon come out of a toilet. Not in the real world anyways.

And then - as if my mind wasn't broken enough already - it began to talk.

"You have disturbed my den, mortal," the Dragon rumbled.

"I'm sorry," I said, bewildered, "First of all, you're a dragon, second of all, you're talking, and third of all, you CAME OUT OF A TOILET!!!"

"Well excuse me mortal," the Dragon mocked me, "First of all you disturbed my slumber, second of all you screamed incessantly at me, giving me quite the headache, and third of all, I have no idea what you're going to do now, so I will probably have to eat you."

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!!!" I cried desperately, sliding away from the Dragon and bumping into the stall door, "You don't have to eat me! I won't tell anyone what happened!!!"

"Hmmm..." the Dragon looked pensive as he gracefully slithered around in the air. "How do I know I can trust you, human?"

"Oh," I said, stumbling, "I am very very trustworthy, ask anyone!"

"I am not convinced," the Dragon snorted.

"Well," I attempted, "First of all I work here at night, and I have never stolen anything, even though no one would ever know."

"Did you know, little human," the Dragon began, "That dragons' eyes can pierce through lies?"

"Okay, okay, okay," I cried, "I did once steal a really cool fidget toy off the principal's desk, but that's it! I swear!"

Suddenly the dragon began to let out a great and raucous laugh. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and laughed - and then he began to cry.

"Dragons can't see through lies, foolish human," the Dragon said, "This was a test, and you failed."

So at this point there were two big thoughts battling for supremacy in my head. The first being that I was definitely about to be murdered and eaten by a creature that shouldn't even exist, and the second thought was how in the world I managed to confess to such an idiotic and pointless crime. The second thought - surprisingly - won out.

"It was only a fidget toy! I can replace it!" I said, "They're super cheap!"

"Foolish human," the Dragon growled, "The point is not that you stole, the point is that you lied. Thus, I cannot trust you with the secret of my location."

"The location..." I tried, "Being a toilet."

"Oh, so that's what this strange water-seat is called," the Dragon mused.

"Um."

Does this dragon know what the toilet is used for? I thought to myself. It's a gamble, but I might still be able to get out of this alive.

"How long have you been living in that - uh, water-seat?" I asked the Dragon.

"I do not live in the water-seat, silly human," the Dragon scoffed, "I live in the very water of this whole facility. I flow freely within and without of it. The water-seat is merely a portal."

"If I am able to tell you something you don't know, will you let me go free?" I asked the Dragon.

"Hmm..." the Dragon swished his tail. "Very well mortal - an impossible task, but go ahead and entertain me."

"The toilet," I started, "The uh, water-seat, as you call it..."

"Yes?" The Dragon, expectant.

"The people here defecate in it."

The Dragon blinked. There was a pause between us for a while, then at last he began to speak again.

"This is disturbing, and I must admit I was unaware, so I must honor my promise to let you go."

"Oh thank god," I started to get up.

"Hold on there, little human," the Dragon interrupted my fleeing.

"Uh, yes?"

"Come back here tomorrow night and fill up one of the smaller portals..."

"You mean the sinks?"

"Sinks? Yes, yes, the sinks. Fill up one of the sinks with water and we will speak again tomorrow."

"Why in the world would I promise to do that?"

"Just trust me," the Dragon winked, "It will be worth your while."

And so I left the bathroom, shaken - and stirred - with absolutely no intention of returning the next day. I had full intention to walk off the job and never, ever come back. But... sometimes you find a dragon in a toilet, and sometimes, despite every organ in your body screaming that the most stupid thing ever to do is to go back to see it again... your curiosity can't resist itself.