The Angel of Small Death || Five Hargreeves

xvi. it was you leaving that scarred

Five completely and utterly loved his new occupation. Liv was nothing but incorrect when she said he would get bored too easily. The mechanics of having a problem and needing to figure out the steps to get to that desired outcome was a task his brain was overjoyed to handle.

The only problem was his coworkers. His suck-up, good for nothing, coworkers who were unable to shut up and get a job done. He missed Liv. She didn't know how to shut up necessarily, but she knew how to complete tasks.

But what his new coworkers did know how to do, was to leave important documents out in the open for him to steal at any moment.

A red file was easily slipped under his shirt, held in place by his belt. He looked outside of the room, guaranteeing that the coast was clear before walking down the hall and slipping into the bathroom. It was his first day and he was on track to dismantling the company from the inside out. Boy was he a genius.

He sat down on a toilet, locking the stall door behind him, before taking out the file. Five heard the door open as he was opening the file. Fuck his life. And fuck his cockiness. In place of the confidential information he was searching for, was a big printed smiley face. 

"So how's your first day going?" The Handler asked, the sound of her red heels hitting the floor echoing in the quiet bathroom.

"Couldn't be better!" He called.

He slowly closed the file as his boss started to urinate, "Glad to hear it." She coughed a few times in succession, almost as if she was trying to get a fur ball out of her stomach. "I burnt my rugae. Ever burn your rugae? Rugae. The ridges on the hard palate that help pass food through the esophagus. Anyway, I'm on a liquid diet for two days, hence the marathon of urination. One faulty clog and nothing works as it should."

The urination stopped as the sound of the toilet paper roll was heard, "You know, we value integrity at the office above all else. Trust is essential and the thirst is built over time. But in the event of a breach the commission will act swiftly and without mercy. An efficiency I'm sure you can appreciate Number Five. I'm feeling peckish, have you had your lunch?"

"Not yet."

The Handler clapped, "Great. How would you like to have lunch with me in my office? You can eat solid foods, and I can live vicariously through you."

"Sounds great."

***

6:00 pm

Wednesday

Liv stepped off of the bus she had so sadly inhabited for the last seven hours. The sun was setting and it was bitterly cold. She never would have guessed that her baby brother would have moved to Maine of all places. New England. New doesn't necessarily mean better.

It was a short walk from Augustus to the next town over. To where her brother was buried. He died in 1996, she was a mere twenty-three years late. That wasn't a lot in the grand scheme of things, twenty-three. Twenty-gosh-darn-three. Her entire family was dead because she was late. Her dad, her mum, and all of her siblings. There was no one she could call her family any more.

The graveyard was eerily quiet. She assumed all graveyards were. The darkness and the dead bodies was a mix made from a horror film. She walked down every row, scanning each grave to see one name. John. She must have glanced at a thousand graves before coming across the one she so desperately needed to see.

John Francis Elsey

May 2, 1912 - March 9, 1996