Chapter Text
If you asked around in the HR department who had the worst job of the lot, they would point you to a table in the corner of the room. To the eye of a third party it looked… rather lovely, actually. There was enough light falling down from the window to make the entire corner seem cleaner, the folders on the wall-shelf behind it were coded in rich, full colours, and there was even a few flowers, some dried, some very much alive, set almost randomly all over the place.
The owner of said table was a lively person, who made sure her workplace looked the part, even going so far as to present a glass bowl of sweets to whomever may find themselves in enough of a bind to need to come for her help there. All in all it was a picture of a perfect workplace environment.
But those who worked there knew the roses weren’t meant to be dried out. That the colourful binders sometimes bled. And that, most of the time, the sweets all ended up chomped by a single person.
But that was all in that corner. Now she was in the break-room, where walls were solid, doors were grey with glass plates, and where the only cold meat was in a chicken sandwich. It was like a relief station for her. Everything was normal and that was good.
She found herself saying that mantra more and more often lately.
This is normal.
This is normal.
This is normal.
Until it eventually wouldn’t be.
But she was in the break room and that was fine.
Her colleagues were chatting animatedly about a party that was about to happen the next evening. She smiled with them and made plans, willingly taking the short straw to be the designated sober person. They joked around, some flirting, some just taking a moment to get some steam out of the system. Everybody was running on the Thursday rush of knowing that tomorrow’s work would be calm and relaxed, and evening free to get absolutely shit-faced.
She smiled into her juice. What a wonderful afternoon.
This is normal, she sighed with contend. This is normal.
And then it wasn’t.
A chirping sound came from the office, specifically from the buzzer taped to her desk. The one that was meant to inform her of new workload arriving. Everybody froze, then, eyeing her warily. Of course everybody knew which department she was backing. Anybody who worked there for more than a month knew very well why she was the only one handling this specific department and no other. And those who didn’t, well, they would learn soon.
She tried to ignore it. The chirping would eventually end, after all. She could always pretend she didn’t hear anything and then strategically push it off her desk and maybe only find it on Monday and-
The chirping came again, somehow louder. She clutched the glass firmly. Nope. She still couldn’t hear it. Maybe she finally went deaf from all the music-
It came again and the glass broke.
“WHAT?!” she yelled, slamming her hand down on the table, ignoring the shards cutting into her skin. “WHAT IS IT THIS TIME?!”
The chirping came again and she stood up, her chair sliding good two metres backwards before falling over. Nobody said anything nor moved as she stomped to the door, slamming them shut behind her. A long string of curses still made it through, muffled by the walls as they were. The silence stayed a few moments after the furious sounds died out in the distance before they slowly continued their conversation where it ended. It wasn’t anything abnormal after all.
She continued to swear until she reached that stupid, cursed desk in the corner. A new pile of paperwork lay on over her workspace, her laptop’s desperate whirring to stay alive audible from across the room. A figure was leaning over the wooden frame, pressing the button rhythmically with a grin that sent her fuming.
“WHAT?!” she barked again as she stomped behind her desk. The man standing there paused with his hand very intentionally lingering on the button for a moment longer until she slapped his hand off of it. The man just chuckled and pretended to dust off his suit sleeves. Her eye twitched. He noticed.
She only barely cut herself off from snapping at him again, feeling, no, knowing somehow that he would consider it his win if she did. Normally her colleagues wouldn’t be able to talk to the man like that, but her case was different. After all, it was him who chose her for this position specifically because she didn’t fit the norm.
“What is it this time?” she asked, faking a smile badly, her tone dangerous. “Fire in the Artefact storage? Somebody steal the fire extinguishers? Did the archive get flooded again? Another kidnapping?!”
The man smiled wider, clearly enjoying her annoyance.
“No need to get drastic here, I am merely informing you there has been a few changes in workforce.”
“What? Why?” she asked, genuinely baffled, before frowning. “Who died this time?”
He chuckled at that once more, and it felt close to being real this time. “I wouldn’t use such strong words. No, Gertrude went… missing in action, if you will.”
She scoffed. “I doubt that. Her last travel expenses were logged a month ago and she didn’t sign any…” then her eyes widened as she realised what he meant. “Ooh no. No, no, no, no, no. I am NOT filling out another missing persons file! Do you know how long those things are?!”
He peaked at the pile of paperwork one her desk and she followed his gaze and everything stilled for a long moment. What came out of her throat next was low and cold. “Elias. How many people did… go missing?”
“Oh, this is just Gertrude’s files. See, they need to be properly taken care of, since she is not officially dead we are still under contractual obligation to take care of her assets as per her instruction in her… absence.”
She just kept staring at the pile. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I am certain you’ll figure it out,” he said cheerfully, patting her back gently, clearly aware she wouldn’t hesitate to cut off his fingers over anything more. She strongly considered doing it anyways.
“If I give my resignation letter in right now-“
“You are still obligated to finish your existing work before leaving.” He didn’t actually need to say it. They’ve had this conversation far too many times for either of them to actually have to say it anymore.
“Elias?” she said, in the same vaguely cold tone.
“Yes?” he almost purred, not even bothering to hide the enjoyment of her suffering as he turned to leave.
“I hate you.”
He just laughed.
“I am NOT losing my party invitation over this, you hear me?!”
“That is fair, I suppose.” He did actually pause at that. “But do be so kind and file the missing persons alert tomorrow. The police will want to have a written problem to ignore.”
She growled as the door clicked behind him.
One day, she thought. One day he would get that stupid smile punched off his face and she would be there, cheering. Until then she really needed to reconsider her role as a designated sober person.