Reckless Hate To Love Me ⚊ Enhypen Jay

ANOTHER DIMENSION

Sitting in the empty cafeteria, you've managed to find most of your senses again, though your head still aches as it's stuffed to bursting with all of the new information.

The boringness of the room matches the concrete corridors we had just left, a chill settling over me at the sheer size of it. Rows of perfectly straight canteen tables line the room, and the empty seats can't help but make you wonder how many people…that is, how many creatures are in the facility.

More artificial light pours down from above, with not a window in sight. Even in the vastness of the room, it feels suddenly very constricting.

At least it doesn't smell like smoke any more. Just disinfectant and cleanliness. Overly clean. Like everything natural about this place has been stripped and wiped away…. Suddenly, you want the burning scent back.

"Here you go", Mom says, sliding a mug of hot chocolate in front of you across the beige, plastic table.

You grip the cup and take a sip, knowing the sugar will help with the shock. It's obviously something your mom knows too, and you can't help but wonder if it was something she'd needed when she'd found out about all of this for the first time.

She shuffles onto the bench opposite you, leaning her elbows on the table and sipping at her own drink. Steam curls from the mug, dancing in front of her closed eyes and into her deep red hair. It's strange to see her so at ease.

Apparently you learning this secret has lifted an extreme weight from her mind.

"I remember what it was like to be told about all of this", she begins, placing down her mug but still staring into it, "How all of the nightmares from books and movies and our fears are real"

"And that they're working for our governments, let's not forget that part", you reply, sipping at the chocolate. The hot liquid burns against your throat, but it's enough to help shock some feeling back into your limbs.

"They don't work for the governments. They work for the Agency", she flicks her gaze up to yours, "And if they didn't work here, what do you think they'd be doing?"

You shrug helplessly, "I suppose I have no idea"

"Well, unfortunately, you're going to have to", she shifts further forward on the bench, her voice echoing from the concrete walls.

"There are some supernatural beings who don't want to comply with the treaties -"

"Treaties?", you interrupt her with the question so fast your drink almost spills over your lips.

Mom passes you a napkin, tutting at you in the exact same manner she used to when you werebyoung and spilt food down in your front.

"The treaties are pacts", she explains, "signed between the Agency and supernaturals. They're updated and signed at regular intervals, to keep them up to date with our fast changing world"

She grips her mug tighter, "Most supernaturals aren't from our world, but they manage to find their way here through cracks between dimensions. And once they're here, they can't get back. The treaties detail the terms by which each species can remain in this world, and be under the Agency's protection and guidance. We protect humanity from supernatural but we also protect supernaturals from humanity"