Chapter 1 | Germs Hate the Dark

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As it turned out, instead of the beautiful blue eyes I'd been expecting, I met a pair of the palest, blandest, and the most boring pair of brown eyes.

What? That's it? No shiny crystals? Just some brown eyes that looked as dead as the bland coffee my mom makes without sugar?

I will, never ever trust another's words and get my hopes up again.

"Miss? Is everything alright?" The man says, dragging me out of my thoughts. I eye his firmly pressed, blue jacket and regret my hasty decision of putting on the first piece of cloth that crossed my eye.

"Yes, I'm fine."

He walks forward and stretches a hand in my direction. I take it, hoping he wouldn't notice my sweaty palm.

"Timothy Green." Confident, comforting.

"Ambrosia Bellemore." Squeaky, ball of nerves.

"Your friend spoke highly of you." I hold back the small smirk that was forming on my lips. I nod slightly instead. He was Caecelia's 'man of the month.'

"You are here to be Mr Calum Achorn's assistant?" I thought I heard a pinch of disbelief in Timothy's voice.

"I believe so, yes." I say slowly. That brightens him up. My eyes narrow infinitesimally. Suddenly, I wasn't so excited about getting the job.

Clapping his hands together, he leads me deeper into the hellishly white building. I see a few people working furiously on their computers, the reds in their eyes apparent. I swallow nervously, I wouldn't want to be in their shoes, ever.

Timothy leads me into a larger cubicle, as opposed to the dingy shells the other humanoids seemed to be working in.

"This is my office." Timothy announces in a mighty voice, probably because his office had just a speck of colour in one of the corners, a yellow file. How assuring to find a speck of life in this hellishly white place.

"Unfortunately," Timothy begins.

Oh my God, he's going to tell me that he's already found a suitable candidate for the post. I'm screwed.

"Mr Calum is out for some important buisness, so he won't be here for your interview. "

Oh. Isn't that some great news?

"Mr Gerald Achorn will be taking your interview instead."

My smug impression falls instantly. I was very tempted to ask him whether he was the same taciturn man I'd seen on the first page of every magazine for being the richest man of America. I'd even heard rumors of him firing someone just because he was peeing during work hours.

I gulp audibly.

"Lead the way, Mr Green."

~•~

Fifteen minutes later, Timothy emerges out of the grey door, a grim smile on his face.

The kind of smile when you realise someone's going to die, I assess quickly.

"Mr Achorn will see you now, Miss Bellemore. Go straight in." He instructs politely. Taking a sharp breath, I get up from the chair and open the door slowly.

And the first thing I see is,

Stark darkness.

"Huh?" I mumble in confusion. Peeking out of the room in confusion, I spot Timothy.

"Mr Green, there seems to be a problem. The lights are off, are you sure this is the correct room?"

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