Click. Beep.
"Hello! Good afternoon. You've reached the office of Dr. Rosario. How may I assist you today?"
"Uh, hi, I was wondering if you could help me."
"Of course! What services are you in need of?"
"Um, information, I guess? I want to know about a magical creature."
"Very well. I'll put you down for advice session. May I ask if this is personal or professional?"
"Um, personal, I guess."
"Can I have a name?"
"Yeah, uh, Rose Brown."
"Very good. Thank you. One moment."
"Of course."
"Your appointment will be at 10 am on Thursday the 19th. Please arrive 15 minutes early. The office is located at 2099 Batrou Street. A $200 cash deposit is required. Please do not bring any enchantments into the building."
"Oh! Uh, sorry, one second, let me write that down."
"Of course."
"Can you repeat the address?"
"2099 Batrou Street. It's near Briar subway station."
"Got it. Thanks."
"Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"No, thank you very much."
"Have a pleasant day, Rose!"
"You too!"
Click. Beep.
I was kind of expecting a magician to work somewhere impressive. I was picturing a castle or a tower or a fortress. Something with flair and style. Not a tiny converted store front lodged between a noodle restaurant and a weed store. The front windows were frosted and graffitied, and the only indication of occupancy was a small neatly typed sign on the door reading "The Office of Dr. Rosario. Third Circle Wizard. Consigned of the Oath". A second sign beneath that, written in red pen, read "No solicitors!".
The building had a small waiting area in the front. It was dingy. Tight walls, hospital chairs, and a bored looking girl behind a small desk. She didn't glance up at me as I entered. A door led out of the room. Four of the chairs were occupied. An exhausted mother sat quietly and patiently next to a child who smiled with pointed teeth and cunning eyes. A small dark man curled up and rocked gently in the back. A businesswoman sat prim and proper, tapping things into a tablet. None of them looked at me.
I sauntered up the reception desk half an hour before my appointment. I had class today. A test, too. But this felt more important. In some ways, this felt like the most important thing I would ever do. The receptionist, determinedly tapping her phone did not even deign to look at me. I squinted past her at the grimy posters and old newspaper articles tacked onto the pale green walls. They would've fit into any doctors office. In fact, I think they were stolen from a doctor's office. None of them seemed particularly mystical. One described the proper way to apply a vaccine.
"Ahem", I said.
She said nothing.
"Uh, excuse me", I said.
Finally, she glanced up at me. "Weed's next door, kid".
"No, uh, I have an appointment."
"Do you?"
"Yes. 10 am. Rose Brown."
"Yeah?"
"Uh, yes?"
"Good for you". She went back to focusing on her phone.
"Um."
Her face tightened. "Oh my god, what?"
"Don't you have to check me in or something?"
"What for?"
"Doesn't the doctor need to know that I'm here?"
"Why would he care?"
"Uh, so I should just take a seat?"
"Do whatever you want. I don't care either."
"Oh. Okay."
I took a seat, feeling quite chastened. I was dressed simply today. The February air was relatively warm compared to the January damp, and I was celebrating with a thing jean jacket over an old band shirt with the sleeves cut off. I guess I did look out of place. I hadn't been sure how to dress to see a wizard. I slung my shoulder bag between my legs, tucking it tight. $200 in cash, 20 dollar bills in a ziplock bag was carefully zipped inside it. A lot more money than I usually carried. I was gonna be eating less over the next couple weeks to make up for it.
I pulled up my phone and started trying to waste time. Social media was good. Always a reliable standby to watch the normal people. I suppose I was always watching the normal people from outside these days, forever wondering what it would be like to go to parties and make friends, to go on dates with goals other than sussing out the secret lives of partners, to exist for purposes other than the eternal quest for the arcane. It could be nice to be normal again, I guessed. I could probably do it. I could walk out right now. I could forget anything ever happened.
I fingered the piece of paper in my jacket pocket, my most detailed sketch of the face than haunted my dreams. I walked that other world in my dreams now, forever stalking the monster. I was tracking it, dancing from shadow to shadow, column to column and watching. It was a lonely thing in my dreams. Sometimes it was strong and would hunt. And it staggered sometimes, wounded. Other things spoke to each others, argued, shoved, hugged, loved. Mine did not. I followed it down dark streets. It never stopped walking.
The door to the depths of the building opened and a man stumbled out. A ratty brown coat over a wiry frame did little to hide his drunken state, mumbled words and angry noises filling the room. I struggled to understand. It sounded like he was primarily speaking not english, but with a healthy dose of english slurs mixed in. He crashed into the middle row of chairs, almost flopping next to the child. The child slowly rotated its head towards him.
"Boo", said the child.
"Fucking monsters.", said the man. He then locked eyes with me. "Everywhere these days."
He stumbled out of the room, leaving the stench of alcohol and blood and the floating remains of his final parting words, "I hope you all rot in hell".
He'd been gone for just a moment, when a hidden PA system crackled to life in a coldly robotic voice.
"Ms. Xander Puce, please proceed to the office."
The businesswoman, neat as anything, stood smoothly, almost robotically. Bag dangling from manicured fingers, she marched to the doors, pushed them open, and was gone.
The waiting room felt quieter. The mother tried to pat her child's head. It snapped at her, a flash of teeth and maybe a hint of blood. She didn't even wince, just pulled her hand back, burying it in her purse. None of us moved. Time ticked on.
It was 10:21 when a tall man in a dark suit strode in. He went straight to the receptionist, dropped an envelope on her desk, and then left again without a word. Nobody reacted at all.
Ms. Xander Puce walked back out at 10:39, a faint smile upon her lips. Her bag was missing now. She nodded once at the receptionist and departed. I glanced at my phone. I must be next, right? Right?
The minutes ticked on. I almost wished I could text Mallow. Of course she didn't have a phone, didn't believe in technology. I missed the calm of her apartment. Maybe she was right. Maybe this was stupid. Why was I so driven? I remembered the monster's face. The look in their eyes. Something in them felt strangely familiar to me. Almost kinship. My whole life, I felt like something was missing. Like I didn't understand the shape of life. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the missing piece? Maybe this would satisfy me. One adventure and then a normal life, right?
My rumination was broken by the PA system requesting a "Mr. Tokender". No first name was given. No one in the room moved. I saw the movement in the eyes of both the mother and the rocking man towards the system. Neither of them stood. Minutes agonizingly ticked by with no change. Again, the PA system blared, "Mr. Tokender, please enter the office."
At 11:12, I was starting to wish that I had packed a lunch.
"Mr. Jason Ng, please proceed to the office."
The boy rose from next to his mother. The mother rose too, when the receptionist snapped sharply, "Only the boy."
An expression flickered across his mother's face, far too fast for me to read it. An expression of forced calm took control and she sat back down, teeth gritted. The child skipped to the door and was gone.
A couple entered the room from outside, laughing and giggling like young lovers. They stumbled in, tangled in each other's arms, each unwilling to cease showering the other in kisses, in affection. Without a word to the room, but plenty of whispered nothings to each other, they claimed a corner chair and began to sloppily make out. I made a valiant effort to ignore the faint moans. I'd put my headphones on, but I was scared of missing my cue.
Jason emerged from the room at a dead run. His face and demeanour had changed. Where once was rage was now calm. He sprinted straight into his mother's arms, crying his eyes out. I caught a glimpse of the hall behind him, flickering with firelight. The two of them left.
It was 2:31 pm by the time they called for me. My phone had been out of battery for the past hour. I was starving and a little grumpy.
The door, cheap and unimaginative, gave way to a narrow corridor lined with portraits. Clearly, they were designed to look painted. But the frames were fake, wood painted to look metal around printed paper. The figures in them, ghostly and indistinct, seemed to be a historical selection of wizards. Some of them were dressed exactly how you would expect a stereotypical wizard to dress. Others were dressed like what I can only describe as the most pompous of the old British lords. One, I'm pretty sure, was a piece of Lord of the Rings fanart. Still had the artist's watermark in the top corner. Sloppy.
A couple doors led to the sides, I guessed for a washroom and breakroom, but the doors at the end of the hall were larger and clearly where I was supposed to go. They were larger, but still not very impressive. They swung open easily, revealing the office.
If the hall outside had been pretending to be greater than it was, the office was a full on delusion. The desk was from Ikea, adorned with a selection of magical supplies that looked stolen from a dollar store Halloween section. Cheap mismatched bookcases occupied the walls, surrounded with fake torches and covered in leatherbound and embossed books that looked fancy but clearly weren't. I spotted at least three different dictionary collections and four bibles before turning my attention to the man behind the desk.
Ill-fitting suit, unkept hair, scraggly beard that needed a shave, Dr. Rosario was the perfect picture of someone you shouldn't trust. He gave the vibes of an unethical lawyer, the kind of guy who had mob connections and looked like the human embodiment of a wild dog. He stood as I entered, laughing in a sort of friendly way, smiling unevenly over chipped teeth. His nose had been broken at least once. Probably twice.
"Ah, you must be Rose! Welcome to my sanctum! Please."
He gestured to the chair before the desk. I advanced and accepted his outstretched hand, feeling his rough fingers in my hand, his iron grip, his mind stabbing at my own with ideas that were too painful to even comprehend.
A scowl flew across his face, before his persona asserted itself. Whatever he'd just tried to do, it hadn't worked. We sat.
"Pretty little thing, aren't you?" He leered at my chest, not even taking steps to hide it. "Deposit, please."
I wanted to blurt out something rude about the wait time. I wanted to lunge across the table and punch him. I wanted to run. Every instinct in my body was screaming, tensing as though he had a gun pointed at my head. It was a two minute sprint to the subway from here. He couldn't touch me if I was underground, right? But...
But I needed this more. I could handle a creep. I dug through the bag and pulled out a baggie with cash in it. His lips curled upwards, disgustingly.
"Hand it over, please."
"Not till after."
He snorted. "Gods, you addicts are all the same. You think you can dictate terms?" He clicked his fingers once and the bag was in his hands. I glanced down. My purse was gone too, now in his hands, his greasy hands now rummaging through it and tossing things back at me. My phone, painkillers, spare money, lost cards, pens, tampons, the lost contents of a life scattered across the desk. I started frantically scooping things as he found my knife.
The blade clicked as it shot out. "Neat little toy", he said, slipping it into his own pocket.
"That's mine!"
"Call it a half down." He was sniffing each bill from the deposit. Now empty, he flung the bag onto the floor behind me with one hand. Sheepishly, I started to refill it.
"Now, I probably can't get you whatever it was you took exactly. But, I can definitely promise you bliss."
"What?"
"Now, it'll be expensive. But the side effects, well, it'll be worth it for the remaining week of your life, you know? And since you won't be needing any money after the pleasure burns-"
"I'm not here for drugs!"
"You look like it."
"Fuck off."
He grinned menacingly. "Now, now. Play nice."
I glared.
"What?"
"What?"
"You're not going to apologize?"
"Excuse me?"
"Oh, very well. I think that calls this appointment to an end, then."
I hesitated for a moment. God. This was so demeaning. Was it even worth it anymore? What a fucking asshole. "I'm sorry."
"I accept your apology!" His nose twitched. "Now, what do you want? Old Dybbuk won't share his best secrets? Demon on the loose? Cursed? Come on, out with it."
"I'm looking for a monster", I mumbled.
"Aren't we all? Try the subways during the witching hours. Next!"
I pulled the sketch out of my pocket, unfolded it, and slapped it onto the table. "I'm looking for this monster."
He held still for a moment, studying the picture. A scream died in his jaws, eyes wide, ears back, the room getting colder. Snarling, spittle splattering over my careful pencil-work, he spat, "You saw- I- How did you-"
I smiled a little, having taken the power back, and waited for him to finish.
Rosario's fingers snapped once and the office was plunged into darkness. Another click and the fake torches burst into flickering light, purples and reds blending together. The shadows cast his face into a mask of terror, a semblance of squirming lines in the vague shape of a human. "How dare you bring that image here?"
"I just want to talk to it."
"Why would- oh. You saw it hunt, didn't you?"
"Uh, yeah."
"When?", his voice suddenly intense and focused.
I hesitated for a moment. But what harm could telling him do? "A few months ago, on the subway."
"Atreya?"
How did he know that name? Was it relevant? Something compelled me to answer honestly. "Yeah."
"Where did the orb go?"
"What?"
"The orb! Atreya was carrying an orb! Did you see where it went?"
"N-no". Something was wrong. I felt like everything was moving slower, like I was watching the room from above. The flames were flickering too fast to follow, sending shadows against the walls, dancing in patterns, faces forming and screaming.
"And did you see the beast since?"
"No". I was not speaking. That was not my voice.
"Did you touch the orb?"
"No". This felt wrong. I concentrated on my body. I could almost reach out to it, almost touch it. I focused, saw the darkness that was myself, the way that it was fighting too. It wanted me back. I wanted to go back to it.
"Hands out." He pulled out a pair of handcuffs from somewhere.
My body automatically raised one hand. "No."
"Hands. Out." I could feel the magic put into his words, the force of the order wrapping around the flesh of my body, taming the twists of my mind. But I was stronger.
I slapped back, sending his cuffs flying. There was a click, and the room was normal again, back to being lit by the dim fluorescent bulbs overhead. The handcuffs were gone entirely.
"I should go", I said, and stood to leave.
"Heh". He chuckled and raised a hand to his face, thumb and index pressed together in a ring. One eye peered at me through it, bulging. He began to laugh, cackling with all the force he could muster, his chair propelled backwards by the force of it.
Against my better judgement, I asked, "What?"
"You're dead! You have a month, maybe, and you want to spend your final days tracking the abomination! I should've known."
"What?"
"What's your name, Rose?"
"Rose."
"Don't lie to me. Tell me your name and I'll summon it for you."
"No." I started walking out.
"You aren't creative! Probably starts with an R! Ruby?"
I put one hand on the door.
"Roxanne?"
The door opened.
"Maybe another flower? Are you a Daisy?"
I stepped out, mentally counting my possessions, checking my mind over for intactness.
"You're gonna die, Daisy! You're gonna die!"
His mocking laughter was the last sound emanating from the room. I stumbled outside.
I didn't feel safe until I was back at Mallow's apartment, knocking on the door. Waiting. It was locked. It was never locked. With each second, I realized the truth. She was out. There was no one home. No one for me.
I stumbled home in the darkness, feet unsteady. They wouldn't move right. It was as though there something else in my body, something sending alternate motions to my limbs. It was night, now. When had it become night?
My key fumbled in the lock, shadows on the wall growing higher and higher. There was a voice in my ear, wet and hungry. The door opened, and I was inside, the calm smell of home, the sizzle of something cooking on the stove. Everything stopped and for a moment, I felt okay.
"Hey, Vi!", said Maggie, who was cooking.
"Hey, Maggie."
"Long day? You look awful."
"Yeah."
"I let a friend of yours in."
"What?"
"Oh, they said they knew you. Should I not have? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
I was already out of the kitchen, staggering into the living area. There they were sitting on the couch, curled into a ball. For the first time in months, I met eyes with the monster.
"Hi", they said.
"Hi", I said.
"I need your help."