At Dusk

One of those days

Angela parked her car as the first lightning bolt cut the air a few miles away. Shortly thereafter, a loud crack followed. The atmosphere was pregnant and in desperate need of release. There was going to be a storm. It had been building up for weeks; a delayed answer to one of the driest months ever recorded.

Any other day, she would have rejoiced at the prospect of wind and rain. The sheer chaos of thunderstorms never failed to spark something inside her. There was a raw quality to the dynamics of a storm, a wild echo of some primordial force.

But today was different. 

She walked into the sophisticated black building with an air of confidence, silencing every cell in her body that protested otherwise. 

The aquarium stood as tall and menacing as ever. Stepping inside it always felt like stepping into a different zone, an upside-down reality in which feng-shui had been applied in reverse.

The lobby was empty, with Sarah typing something quietly and almost hidden behind the tall wooden desk. As soon as she greeted the receptionist, a bald man materialized out of nowhere.

"Welcome Angela", said him with a familiar, baritone voice.

Something plunged inside her stomach.  

"Good morning, Hector. How is everything?" She replied. Her voice, an octave too low. 

"In good order", he said with a smile that did not reach his eyes. He was considerably thinner than the last time they spoke, which had not been that long ago. 

"Did you come to see Amadeus? He is in the morning meeting still, but I'm sure he'll be with you shortly."

"No problem. I'll wait here."

"Nonsense. I'll escort you to one of the rooms," he said, not waiting for an answer before confirming with Sarah that office room 277 was vacant. 

She nodded and let herself be escorted away. 

They walked in silence. He almost looked like a bull walking on two legs, she thought, even after having lost some weight. He had always been a safe haven for Amadeus, a bodyguard slash confidant slash partner-in-crime that could do anything and come to work the next day as if nothing had happened. At least, that was what she had always been led to believe. 

Had he ever killed anybody? It was a strange thought to be having and it said more about her fear of him than about who he was. He and her brother had always been so secretive about his employment history and what exactly it was that he did in the company. Of course, she knew his official job title, Head of Security. But there wasn't even a security team, not in their branch anyway, where mostly bureaucratic work was carried out by 23 employees scattered in a larger-than-life building. He stood there, an island of muscle in the middle of the constant flow of paperwork that fed one of the busiest contractors in the country. 

Had it been on Amadeus's command? The thought ricocheted back into her mind right when her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and had to take another deep breath as they entered a spacious meeting room with two glass walls. 

The fine leather chairs, the carpeted floor, the black marble surfaces, it all felt familiar. Not because she had been in that particular room before but because all of the rooms in that building obeyed more or less the same style. Every object was perfectly kept in its place, and yet their arrangement gave the impression of abandonment, like a house that was always overly tidy for the lack of inhabitants. You would expect the clean, smart rooms to give you a sense of comfort, but they actually oozed a melancholic feeling of emptiness.