(WP) Stranger Than Fiction
Fiction and myths aren’t just stories. Everyone says that because they’ve been told to, because some things are just too fantastic to be believed. But they’re indeed real, and I can prove it.
I park outside of the imposing, grand building, the coffee I gulped down on the way churning in my stomach. This is only my third day on the job, and I’m still in shock. And I can’t even tell anyone; I signed a nondisclosure agreement. I get out of the car and lock it, keeping my head bowed as I walk into the building.
“Jenkins!” A slight woman meets me at the doors, her arms full of thick manila files. “The Boss has been asking for you! She’s in a right mood; she’s been trying to subdue a Titan who escaped its confines. Nearly blew up the whole building.”
“Thank you, Eliza,” I reply, smiling at her gratefully, and her cheeks pink demurely.
“What do I have to do to get some good coffee around here?!” The Boss, Director Salazar, is standing in the center of her office, not a hair out of place. The only sign of the event Eliza told me about is the color, high in her cheeks.
“Excuse me, Director, but Eliza said you needed my help. What’s going on?” I cut in, and she frowns, turning to face me.
“Where the hell have you been, Jenkins? We’ve been in crisis mode all morning, and you’re fifteen minutes late.” Director Salazar snaps through gritted teeth.
“Traffic was a nightmare, I’m sorry,” I apologize, resisting the urge to snap back at her.
“Never mind that,” She replies, tucking a stray strand of dark hair back into her severe bun. “A Titan escaped its cage and we had to subdue it.” She chuckles bitterly, her gray eyes shining like chips of polar ice. “Y’know, our job is to make sure the public knows that stories don’t come to life, that they’re not real. It’s not really looking good for us.”
I blink, taken aback by her words. I’d expect this kind of talk from any other government employee, but never The Director. She is frowning, and her hands are trembling; I don’t dare try to comfort her.
She takes a deep breath and looks up at me. “We have a serious situation, Jenkins.”
“How serious are we talking, ma’am, with all due respect.”
She frowns, her already grim mouth thinning even more.
“First, I need your word, on your job, that what I tell you will not leave this building.”
“Of course.” I know better than to even attempt to bring my work home with me; I don’t want my family wrapped in these bright, unbelievable threads.
“The princesses have gotten out of their cages. Snow White and Rose Red, Shahrazad, Rapunzel, Cinderella, they’re spreading magic the longer that they are free. We must return them, or the world will be out of balance, and our organization will be compromised. Will you help me?”