“Jenna, have you visited the centaurs yet?” The voice of my coworker, Alexander, called out to me, snapping me back to reality. It was hard to focus, I haven’t slept well lately and I just couldn’t work in this state.
I took a final sip of my coffee, before responding in a sleepy, monotone voice. “Yeah, yeah, I’m.. getting there or whatever.”
The centaurs were probably the hardest to deal with in all of the Paranormal Protection and Preservation Agency, PPPA for short, since well… they were capable of human speech.
They were wild animals.
Literally.
I sluggishly moped over to the containment area for the centaurs, holding up the keycard on my lanyard. The keycards were there so that nothing could get in, or out, without one. Mostly for the safety of the creatures… but moreso, the workers.
Just as I was about to swipe my card, the doorbell sounded throughout the facility.
“Thank the gods…” I rushed over to the front entrance, making sure to get there before any of my coworkers could. I swiped my keycard there, too, as no one could even leave without one.
I swung open the door, half expecting to see some kid wanting to pet a unicorn or someone preaching to me about how we took care of ‘demons’.
Anything would be better than the centaurs.
So of course, I was a little disappointed to find that it was a ding-dong-ditch. I was nearly about to step out the door, hopefully to find whatever meddling civilian was the culprit, when I stumbled over something and tripped into the bushes.
Again.
That was the fourth time this week.
I crawled out of the Jenna-shaped hole in the leaves, brushing off my work uniform. But what I saw on the doorstep…
“Oh. Some random kid left fan mail again.”
I walked up the steps, picking up the rather heavy cardboard box. I opened the front door, which was difficult to do with only one hand, and went to the staff only room.
Setting the box down on one of the tables, I started up the coffee pot to brew a pot of coffee. The old coffee machine we had broke, due to the insane amount of orders it got.
For context, it was a prototype from the workers down in Mechanics of a coffee machine that understood verbal commands. If I wanted some complicated coffee order that was sure to put any barista to rest, the coffee machine would be able to process the request within thirty seconds.
The only problem… it couldn’t handle the several requests from the hundreds of entities in the PPPA.
There’s another thing: we’ve stopped gathering coffee orders all because of those annoying centaurs, there has to be a million of them. They aren’t even endangered, or frequently hunted like some of the other creatures here.
They live here, with anything that they could ever need, along with their motto, No Rent, No Rules.
And yet my boss, Derek, still assigns me to handle them every Monday.
Ding!
Oh, I completely forgot about the coffee I was making.
I took the pot, poured the scalding hot coffee into a styrofoam cup, and set it on the counter.
“This is gonna take forever to cool down… eh, whatever. I’ve got all the time in the world if it means a no centaur Monday.”
Though, I easily got bored after a few minutes. I had left the few fidgets I owned on my office desk, and I wasn’t about to leave the staff room to risk losing whatever fan mail was in this box.
Oh, wait…
“Come on Jenna, you’re not that dumb, are you?”
I could just open the box while I waited for my coffee to cool. So, that’s what I did.
The only thing that was a little odd, however, were the several holes on the sides and bottom of the cardboard box.
“Maybe it just got busted up in shipping..?” I asked myself.
I checked for a shipping label, to which there was none. That was… strange.
“Could have been a hand delivery… signs point to that from the ding-dong-ditch from earlier.” I muttered to myself, analyzing the box. “Whoever it was didn’t want me to know who they were.”
Huh.
I reached for the scissors in the knife block on the counter, planning to cut the tape covering the flaps of the box. But then I hesitated, though after cutting the flaps already. What if the package was from some sketchy old dude trying to blame the PPPA for something we didn’t do?
So… I just left the box sitting there.
I turned back to my coffee, which was now completely cooled down. I took a sip, the styrofoam flavor overtaking much of the coffee’s, and leaned backwards on the counter.
“Perhaps I should hand the box over to upper management…” I muttered again. “Eh, but that can wait. I have… fifteen minutes left with the centaurs on my shift. What a perfect time to take my fifteen minute break for the day!”
I finished up the coffee I had, threw the cup away, and picked up the box. I navigated my way through the facility, taking the steps since the elevator was broken again.
We usually spent more on manufacturing different security methods than fixing one of the many elevators every three weeks.
My legs almost gave out on me as I trekked up the stairs, the steps themselves being way too large for a 5’2” college student.
Well, a college dropout, anyway.
I quit after they called me ‘too knowledgeable’ on the subject, which was supernatural beast-keeping of course, and practically paid back the money I owed along with slapping a degree in my face to leave. The PPPA hired me immediately after hearing this, even being just a nineteen year old, because of my so-called exceptional experience on the subject.
Once I made it to the third floor, I weaved through the hallways to Derek’s office. Swiping my keycard for the umpteenth time today, I entered, backing in for convenience.
“Hey, Mr. Rodriguez, I have some sketchy packa—” I cut myself off when I see the empty desk.
“Uuuuuuuggghhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”
He really expected me to go on some wild goose chase?! Nope. Not happening. I’m just going to take this to my desk and call him later…
After several more steps later, and arriving back on the first floor, I entered my office. The pale cerulean walls welcomed me, as they always did, along with the decor—my unsuccessful attempt at sprucing up how bare everything looked.
I sat down at my chair, sliding the box under my desk next to the world’s smallest trash can. You threw one paper away and not even the whole thing would fit.
“Should probably reply to some of these emails.” I say, pulling up the app on one of my monitors. That was something I liked about this job—only digital interactions. The other monitor had a ten hour YouTube video of rain sounds. I found them quite calming when it came to dealing with people.
There were a few types of emails I was assigned for my job. I was forwarded or sent emails regarding potential supernatural sightings, creatures in someone’s possession, an unaccounted endangerment risk, etc.
But the majority was questions. ‘Can I pet them?’ ‘Can I adopt one?’ ‘Are they really like what the stories say?’ They were quite repetitive.
I heard Alexander was working on an AI system to automatically reply to any of the questions like that, but so far he’s been unsuccessful. If he succeeds, I really owe him one.
After getting through fifty or so nonsense questions, a particular email sparked my interest. Their email was hidden, not making any availability for some sort of identification.
The email read as follows:
To whomever this may concern,
While I am aware this facility of yours specializes merely in species of a fictitious nature, I would like to put in a rather odd request.
I am no longer able to protect or take care of my daughter, Elise. No adoption center will take my precious child without a fee, and we are currently without money. I have no other options. I wish it hadn’t needed to come to this, yet unfortunately, it has. I would like to put in the request that my daughter be taken in by your facility, as I know the employees put in the utmost care towards the creatures you take care of.
Regards, Someone Forgotten.
Well… that wasn’t quite what I was expecting. Or what I was trained to do. “Eh.” I shrugged, forwarding it to Derek. He can deal with it.
I couldn’t help but wonder, though… what was going to happen to this supposed ‘Elise’ if Derek rejected whoever sent it?
Though, I was unable to think any longer, as a small rustling sound came from under my desk.
“The box…” I thought to myself.
Cautiously, I lifted a hand, timidly opening one of the box flaps…
And I locked eyes with someone I would soon end up caring deeply about.
(1535 Words)
