by C. L. Stone
Zigs: Yeah, baby gurl. Don’t u worry. I’ll b bak soon.
I swallow hard. Why does he keep refusing my calls then? I want to talk to him about the shifter thing. I glance at the clock. It’s almost time. Someone from the prison will be here soon to pick me up and take me there. I’m praying Mologan will show me how to make a Void tomorrow. Otherwise, I’ll have lost my new job, and I can’t afford for that to happen. Mologan groans from the other side of his door, the squeak of his chair echoing through the wood. He comes out of his office a second later. The printer wakes up and begins printing off the new update for the case I worked on a moment ago; Mologan likes to have hard copies of all his cases. It's easier than having to worry about making backups and the hassle of technology. He clears his throat. "So are you excited for your first day at the prison?"
I stand and go to the printer. "Yeah. I've never had a job like this before. Working in the supernatural world will be new." My heart flutters as I put the paper into its case file and place it back in the filing cabinet. Mologan hooks his thumbs around his suspenders and leans against the wall. "Just be careful and alert. Don't trust anyone. The people in there are all sneaky bastards."
I nod. "I know. You've made that clear. I’ll keep my head on my shoulders. "
A Void opens on the far side of the room and a woman steps out. Her wide shoulders and tight bun hairstyle make her blunt features stand out more. She looks at us both. "I'm from Triangle Prison. I'm here to pick up the new recruit, Sincerity Johnson."
I grab my bag from under the desk. "That's me." Her nostrils flare. "Are you a Fae?"
I stop in my tracks as I begin to go toward her. "Yes, is that a problem?"
Her upper lip curves upward. "No. We just haven't ever had a Fae on the force before. Your kinds are either taking up space in one of our cells or off dancing in a flower field while helping the sick."
"Oh." I go toward her again and she holds a hand out to me. Like everyone else, she's a good foot, possibly two, taller than me. "What bear tribe are you in?" Mologan breaks me out of my nerve wracking stupor. She peers at him through narrowed brown eyes. "Hunr. You?"
He stands straighter. "Slar."
She scoffs. "Of course. We shouldn't waste any more time." She takes my hand and puts her other on the wall to make a new Void. How can she make it appear so easy to do? It can't be as easy as touching the wall. Without warning she pulls me into the dense blackness. My heart hammers out of my chest before light hits my eyes again and I move my free hand to shield them from the massive torch lights. A bitter cold strikes my skin and I peer around. We came out of a tall stone. She clears her throat. "Take a good look, you'll need to remember how it looks if you want to get here tomorrow in one piece."
The building stands before us in the shape of a massive pyramid, from far away it must look like a triangle. Fog billows all around us. "Crap, it's gonna rain, hopefully it doesn't flood the lower levels again. Follow me." She lets go of my hand and thunders forward on heavy feet. I quicken my steps into a run to keep up with her massive strides. It must be nice to be so tall and girthey; I bet she could get anyone she wanted to move out of her way. The building looms over us and she moves a ring on her right hand over some kind of scanner, and a side door to the entrance opens. Heat washes over my chilled skin as we leave the outside behind. At least I won't need a jacket in here. The long hall of yellow lit tile and walls doesn't inspire a lot of excitement, but what was I expecting from a prison? Even if it's a supernatural one. At the end, in front of a set of double doors, she flashes her ring again. Will I get one of those? They buzz and open into a large office area, this must be their intake place. A man stands behind a tall desk, that precedes the small cubicle areas behind him, no people fill them. He smiles at us. "Marge! Is this the new girl?" Marge, so that's her name. I guess she does look like a Marge. She nods. "Yup, this is her, but we got a problem. She's part Fae, what was the boss thinkin' sending a Fae to a place like this, when she isn’t one of the ones getting tossed in a cell?”
“I don’t appreciate you criticising my choices while I can hear you, Marge.” A man steps out of an office door several cubicles down, I didn’t even notice it until now. He has the same voice as the man I spoke to last night on the phone. Marge’s face flushes with a red hue. “Sorry, Boss…sir.”
He steps further into the room and closer to us. Grey streaks litter his brushed back, blond, hair. Oval, wire-rimmed glasses almost hide his green eyes and a grey mustache fluffs up under his nose. It’s like he stepped out of a comic book. He holds his hand out to me. “I’m Samuel Stiles, the warden of this prison. It’s good to meet you in person, Miss Johnson.” His handshake almost crushes the bones of my hand. I nod. “Thank you for considering me for the job, sir.”
Sam grins. “I have a very specific job in mind for you. You won’t be working on just any level of the prison. You’ll be working on the most important one.”
Marge gasps. “You don’t mean… but Thomas works that level. Shouldn’t it be someone with more prison guard experience?”
My heartbeat picks up. What does he want me to be in charge of? His gaze turns on her. “It’s not up to either of us who runs that level, now is it, Marge? It would do you well to remember that.”
But isn’t he the warden? Wouldn’t he make all the important decisions? Marge’s cheeks flush again and she rocks on the back of her heels. “I’m sorry I forgot, sir.”
He nods. “Kingston, process her. Give her a pass-ring, and uniform. Then have her come see me when she’s done.”
The man behind the tall desk nods and motions for me to come closer to him. “We’ll take your prints first.” I go to his desk, where he has a scanner ready to take my prints. Will this make my closed juvie records open to them? I haven’t been arrested for anything since I was fourteen, but that doesn’t mean it won’t come back to bite me in the ass. The scanner heats up under my touch. Kingston taps a camera. “Time to say cheese, while we put your prints into the system.” I give a closed mouth smile as the computer it’s attached to clicks. He nods. “Good enough. Now, to set up your pass-ring.” A drawer clunks open and he pulls out a white package with a sterilized needle, next comes a bottle of something green and slimy.
My hands go into the air. “Woah, I don’t do needles.”
He dumps a quarter-sized amount of the green goop into his palm before rubbing his hands together; it spreads over his skin, forming an opaque lime-colored film. "We need your blood to add to the magical wards around this place and into your pass-ring, or you won't be able to enter this place to do your job. We just need two drops, nothing too invasive. " Marge laughs from her spot at one of the small cubicles. "You seriously afraid of two little pricks on the hand?" My hands form fists, before I hold a finger out to him. "Fine, make it quick, please. " He sighs, grabs my hand and unfolds my fingers. “It’s better if I can poke the bottom of your palm. It will hurt less, and hopefully I’ll only have to do it once to get two drops of blood.” With my eyes shut tight, I turn my head to face the other direction as he opens the needle’s package. A second ticks by slower than it should. I flinch when the hot stab runs down through my nerves and up my elbow. My teeth dig into my lip. Needles can go to hell.Something cool chills the skin of my hand, and I creep an eye open. The needle no longer plagues me with its existence. Kingston presses a small ring against the pricked wound. It glows. Is that magic? Warm curiosity fills my chest. I want to ask so many questions, but then he would figure out I’m new to this world. What if they fired me over it? I can’t have that happen.Lifting the ring back up, the clear stone in the centre glows brighter, before changing to a bright-pink hue. “Huh.” He places the ring on my right ring finger; it’s too big, but before I can say something, the metal shrinks down, to snugly fit my finger.“What?” I fidget with it, watching the stone shimmer in the yellow tinted light of the office.He shrugs, before sticking a piece of glass on a metal plate—a red drop of blood mars the glass’s surface. “I’ve neve
r seen a ring turn pink before, but you’re the first Fae I’ve ever met that works here. So, that must be why it’s pink.” I stare at him. If everyone here is supernatural, what is he? He can’t be much older than me, he’s lean and unremarkable. I doubt he’s another bear shifter. Not that I’m suddenly an expert.His brown eyes glance my way. “What?” I turn my gaze onto my shoes. “Nothing.” “I’ll add your blood into the ward magic tonight. The ring will be working for you by tomorrow. You can go talk to the Warden about your job now. He’s in that office back there.” He points over his shoulder toward the room Sam came out of earlier, and picks up my drop of blood. “What about my uniform?” He sets my blood down. “Almost forgot, you’d be an extra small, right? You’ll probably have to have the pants hemmed to meet the dress code. I don’t think we have any petites.”I readjust the weight of my backpack. “That’s fine, I’ve gotten really good at hemming my clothes over the years.” He nods and reaches into a different drawer of his desk, does he have everything in there? After a moment he pulls out two uniforms folded into plastic bags. Black slacks and a blue button down shirt with what looks to be the prison’s name embroidered into the front.I take it.“You’ll need this, too.” He hands me a name tag with Johnson put on it with a label maker. “If you make it ninety days they will have a real one made for you, but you have to prove yourself first.” I nod. How hard can this job be? “Where’s the restroom, so I can change?” Marge stands. “I’ll show you. You’ll need a working pass-ring to get inside.” I follow her to the bathroom, which stands two doors down from Sam’s office. She flashes her ring over the scanner and the door opens on its own. I step inside, several stalls make up the toilets. “Thank you.” I glance over my shoulder, but she’s gone and the door inches closed.Going into one of the stalls, I put my bag on the ground, and make quick work of my clothes. The slacks will need to be hemmed quite a bit, they fall a several inches past my toes. For now, I’ll pin them up. Luckily my sewing kit never leaves my bag. I tuck my shirt into my pants; I wish they’d given me a belt, aren’t uniforms like this supposed to come with one?I brush my hair back and stick it in a puff ponytail. The name badge goes just over my left breast. A sense of pride fills me. I’ve never had such an important feeling job before. Stepping out of the stall, I grab my bag and go to the wall-mirror and sinks. My appearance is as good as it’s going to get. My green eyes almost glow; could it be all the magic around this place? Leaving the restroom, I make my way over to Sam’s office and knock on the door. He peers up from his desk and motions for me to come in. He stands and closes the door. “I’m glad to see that we had a uniform that fits you. I don’t know what material the Norms make that stuff out of, but we can’t spell them to automatically fit, and the last warden bought over a few thousand of them to save money.” Sam shakes his head and laughs. “Anyway, to why I’ve hired you.” He leans back in his swivel chair. “I know that you’re new to the supernatural world, and that you’ve only recently come to understand what you are.” My jaw drops open. “How, sir? There weren’t any questions like that on the application.” He nods. “You’re right, there weren’t any questions like that.” I frown. “Then how did you know?” He goes silent for a moment, as if just now realizing he didn’t think this through. His fuzzy mustache hides the thin line his lips make. “Things beyond my control, told me about you and that you will be contacting my prison. I’ve learned over the years to trust what these things say. After all, they’ve been around longer than either of us.” “Am I allowed to ask who or what these things are?” He glances off to the side, his green eyes not making contact with my own for a prolonged amount of time. “I suppose you’ll find out about that soon enough. But I don’t think it is my place to tell you. However, it’s because of those things that you have a job here now. And if they have their way, it will be for a very long time. I know most of this doesn’t make sense to you now, but it will, so don’t worry.” A knock echoes throughout the room, I jump. Sam grins at the door. “Enter.” I glance over my shoulder as the old oak door opens just a crack, and an old man sticks his head with fluffy, pure-white hair into the room. A short beard and mustache of matching color lines his rounded jaw. Heavy bags rest under his bi-colored eyes, which stare at me with curiosity. I fidget in my seat. Sam motions for the man to come into the room, even though there’s not much space for any of us. The man shuffles inside his steps small and careful. A cane hangs from his left forearm. He clears his throat. “You call for me, Boss?” “That I did, Thomas. There’s someone I’d like you to meet. This is Sincerity Johnson, she will be your new replacement for the graveyard shift. At least until you’re ready to retire.” I smile sheepishly at him. “Please call me Hope. All of my friends do.” Sam rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Ms. Johnson. I wasn’t aware you had a preferred name.” I shrug. “It’s not too big of a deal. I just prefer Hope over Sincerity.”The old man clears his throat. “I don’t understand, Boss. Why are you having her take over the night shift? I have both shifts, that’s how it’s always been.” Sam nods. “I understand your concern, Thomas. But you don’t need to worry. I’m not getting rid of you, I promise. This is only for the graveyard shift, so that you may get more rest during the day. We both know you are not as young as you used to be. Ms. Johnson, here, has been hired to help you out more. That is all. I’m sure, they’ve told you all about her coming. They’re the ones that told me to hire her, after all.” Thomas runs a shaking hand over his hair before giving a heavy sigh. “I remember them telling me about her, that doesn’t mean I’m happy about the situation. I’ve been working and living here for the past forty years. You can’t expect me to be okay with being kicked out of my own home!” Sam stands and shakes his head. “That’s not what is happening here at all, Thomas. I’m not kicking you out of here. This will be your home until the day you choose not to live here anymore. Regardless of your work status. That is their wish, so that is how it will be don’t worry, please.” I frown again. “I don’t want to cause any trouble here. And I certainly don’t want to take anyone’s job. I know how hard it is to get a job in this city with the economy right now. Please don’t make me be a person who takes someone else’s job from them.” I stand, my hands trembling as I reach for my bag. I can’t believe I’m doing this. What am I thinking? I need this job. Am my really going to risk it for some old man? But I’ve already said the words, I can’t turn back now. Sam goes around his desk and holds up a hand. “Please, Ms. Johnson, don’t do this. We need you here at the prison. It is meant to be.” I pause with putting my bag over my shoulder. “What are you talking about? How is this meant to be? This is just a job. Nothing else.” The old man, Thomas, clears his throat. “I should’ve thought before I spoke. I know I made it sound like you are taking my job, and you are, but the Boss is right. They chose you for this job, which means I have no say in it, and my time here with them is coming to a close.” He laughs and rubs his hand over his hair again. “It’s strange, but now that I’ve been able to digest the information, a sense of relief has washed over me. Maybe now, I can take all those vacations I’ve always dreamt about.” I frown. “So does that mean you want the job, or not?” He makes it sound as if I’m taking his job right out from under him. Thomas nods. “I do and I don’t. I want my job, because it’s all I’ve ever known for the last forty years, and technically I still have the day shift. It’s not like I can go very far for vacation right now, but maybe one day I can. I should see this as a gift. You, too, need a job, or you wouldn;thave come here looking for one. It would be wrong of me to take the job away from you as well, and as long as I’m still getting paid, I can’t really complain, now can I?” He laughs again. I don’t understand. Why did he throw such a fit if he’s okay with it now? I glance between the two men. “Are you sure about this?” Thomas nods and Sam smiles. “I’m sorry we scared you, Miss Johnson, but I assure you that you aren’t taking anyone’s job. Thomas will be paid just the same as you even if he isn’t working here anymore. That was the deal he
made when he took this job forty years ago. Please don’t leave, you are needed here.” Thomas moves to open the door again, the sudden tightness of the space between us becoming apparent. “Why don’t I show you what your new job will be?” I put my bag on my shoulder and nod. “Okay.” *
After a long walk to the elevator and even longer ride up to the top floor with the two men, we step out into a small hallway with a door across from us and another one at the end of the corridor. I don’t know what I thought should be here, but I didn’t expect something so small. Thomas goes the door across from us and unlocks the handle with a simple key. Pushing it open, he glances over his shoulder at us and motions for us to follow him inside. Yellow lights flicker on from overhead as we cross over the threshold, illuminating the space. It isn’t much bigger than a studio apartment. It has everything in apartment should have: a kitchen, a shower, and next to it a boxed area which I assume holds the toilet. At least they gave the toilet a room so he isn’t pissing directly by where he eats. Across from all of this stands a simple twin-sized bed. On either end of the bed stand two bookcases. I wouldn’t mind calling this place home; I can see why he doesn’t want to give it up. “This is my office and living space.” Thomas grins as he peers around at his belongings. I wish I could take such pride in my own belongings; everything I own rests in the bag on my shoulder. Maybe one day I’ll have things that don’t fit in a bag I can take pride in. Thomas clears his throat. “You can keep your stuff here while you work.”A frown pulls at the corners of my lips. “But won’t I be bothering you while you’re sleeping? I am on the graveyard shift after all.” He frowns in return. “I can just put up a no disturbance ward around my bed. I won’t even sense that you’re there unless you come and physically bother me.” My cheeks flush with heat. I bet he thinks I’m an idiot. I really need to study up more about this world, so that people aren’t constantly caught off guard by what I say. “Oh.” Sam pats me on the shoulder, reminding me that he is there. “Don’t worry, Miss Johnson. You’ll get used to all of this soon enough. I will leave you and Thomas alone, so that he can teach you the ropes. Please come and get me when you’re done with your shift. I’ll help you out with getting home.” Sam leaves through the open door and I watch him go. I got lucky with him knowing the truth about me. Otherwise, I don’t know how I would’ve gotten out of this prison and back to New York, so that I can find a place to sleep for a few hours before I need to go to Mologan’s. Will I even have time to sleep? Thomas stares at me for a long second. “You’re new to the supernatural world, aren’t you?” I stare at the carpeted floor. “Is it that obvious?” He nods. “You don’t meet many people who haven’t heard of no disturbance wards that come through here. Also, the boss telling you to meet him after your shift gives way to the fact that you don’t know how to make a Void. So, what are you, and why do you have them so interested in you?” The silence grows heavy between us. “I’ve been told that I am a Fae, but I barely know what that is. I took this job because a newspaper nearly fell on my head the other night. And my boss, well, my other boss helped me apply for the job here. Frankly put, I was desperate for a second job. I’m not a very good customer service type of girl.” A guffaw erupts from him. “Well, you definitely will not have to deal with customer service here at least it won’t feel that way. Take off your bag and put it over there.” He points to a desk near the door. A computer rests on top of it along with several dozen journals. I put my bag where he says. “So, what exactly will I be doing here?” “You will be in charge of taking care of the prison’s oldest and most important prisoners.” I nod. “So like the senior citizens?” He snorts. “Not exactly. I mean, they’re old. Probably as old as the world. I don’t really know, but they don’t look it, and they don’t act like it. But it is our job to make sure their needs are met, at least to some degree. They are, after all, still prisoners here.” I give a swivel of my head, a combination of a nod and a shake. “That made zero sense but but I will take your word for it.” He moves past me to the door. “It’s easier if I show you.” I follow him the other door at the end of the hallway. He lifts his hand to scan his pass-ring and the door opens. My breath hitches in my throat, how can a place this big exist behind such a small door? A vast circular room stands before me. Its ceiling is made of glass, showing the overcast sky the night while its floors reflects the grey of the clouds on its white granite. I can’t believe something like this exists within the prison walls. But that’s not all, glass runs along the circumference of the room, every few hundred feet separated into pieces and different rooms. I stop in my tracks, men exist behind the glass walls some of them staring me and some of them not. “Hope, this is your new job. You are now the night guard of the seven deadly sins.”
