Devil Inside

Why Don't You Just Tell Me I Stink?

“I guess I expected it to be more..” Elsa struggled to find the right words so as not to offend her father. Marcus had seized upon his daughters interest in his work as an opportunity to once again find some common ground with her and taken her in with him for the day. So far she had not been overly impressed.

“High tech?” He offered.

“I suppose so, like a top secret government lab, all white and stainless steel with lots of serious people in white coats and futuristic technology.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow, “You don't want much do you?” he said, his chair creaking as he stood. The office he had shown Elsa to was what she imagined a reclusive university lecturers would look like. Predominantly brown and grey with a tiny window that barely provided light, let alone ventilation, precarious looking shelves holding folder after folder and book after book, stacked untidily with pieces of crumpled paper sticking out all over the place. There were at least four used coffee mugs that she could see masquerading as penicillin experiments and countless further coffee mug stains on the desk, window ledge and collection of papers and folders that lay strewn across every available surface. A small dustbin was a volcano of discarded paper and other detritus erupting onto the floor and the computer keyboard looked like it had it’s own ecosystem. In short, it was a pretty disgusting tip and had Elsa had to worry about illness and disease, she probably wouldn’t have even walked through the door.

She clearly couldn’t hide her distaste and she was frankly shocked that Marcus could work in such conditions. He caught her look and chuckled, “Come with me,” he said, leading her out. Elsa followed him back out of his pokey office and down the corridor to the lift. Once inside, her father pushed the emergency call button and a female voice came through the small speaker.

“How can I help?”

“Facility floor please Carol,” Marcus replied and Elsa frowned a silent question at him. He just grinned the way he always had when he teased her.

“Certainly Dr Shaw.” The woman's voice said and the lift began to move.

Elsa raised an eyebrow, just as Marcus had done to her. She never used to be able to do it before her ‘change’; she’d always wanted to be able to just raise one eyebrow.

“You wanted 'more'?” Marcus asked, “Just wait. We have to keep what we do very carefully hidden Elsa, most of this building is of no use to us whatsoever. We really only use one floor, the rest is designed to mislead unexpected visitors. My office,” he used his fingers to make air quotes, “Is specifically designed to make people want to spend as little time in it as possible.”

The lifted hummed to a stop and the doors opened with a hiss. They stepped into a corridor which had much more of the look Elsa had been expecting. Glass double doors at the end slid open silently and a figure approached them. Elsa's nostrils curled and she took a step back. Marcus placed a hand on her arm, “It's all right, no one here is a threat to you.”

“He smells like raw meat, and wet dog,” she whispered.

“I am sorry my scent offends you,” The man said, “Vampires and werewolves do not mix well, your scent is difficult for me to cope with too, no offence.”

“You heard me, sorry, I didn't mean to be rude.” Elsa would have blushed if she still could.

“We both have a keen sense of hearing and smell,” the stranger explained, “No apology necessary, I am pleased to meet you Elsa.” He held out an inordinately large and hairy hand, which she shook as firmly as she could, trying not to wipe her hand on her jeans afterwards. He smiled, or at least bared his teeth in an attempt at a smile and turned to shake her father's hand.