Music pounding in his ears, Cuff pushed open the heavy wooden door, the loud creaking going unnoticed thanks to the music in his ears.
"Wow," he whispers to himself, looking around as chills run along his skin. The great wooden door gave way to a large circular shaped room, a massive vaulted ceiling with old, imposing, art looks down on him. The one odd thing about the impressive room was that there was nobody else there, Cuff thought to himself. He turned in circles, wondering where to go for there were doors leading off every which way in the circular room. Until, from the corner of his eye, he catches sight of a small sign at the back of the room - although a circular room hardly has a "back" and "front", right? - which reads "Groundsman job interview, this way" and an arrow pointing to the left.
He slowly takes his earbuds out of his ears and walks towards the five doors on the left wall - but really, is it okay to call the left wall its own wall? I mean it's all one continous wall - with the pounding music gone he's exposed to the sounds of the place, or rather lack of. There's an all encompassing silence, despite the fact that Cuff is a mere ten meters away from a main road, where traffic is roaring by. In the almost ominous silence Cuff continues walking, dispelling it in an instant, as his formal black shoes clack against the marble floor, leather satchel bounces against his grey jeans and the straps slides against his wine coloured blazer; such delicate noises creating such a racket as he promptly arrives at the most top-left door which simply reads "This Door" and shrugs, grabbing at the handle and swinging the door open with far more force than intended, and then freezing.
Inside, a man sits behind a desk, relaxed, a smile blooming on his face. His black suit, black shirt and black tie contrast greatly with his milk bottle face. He simply sits there smiling, nodding occasionally, a quill in his right hand scratches noisily at some paper on his desk
Cuff finally comes to his wits, "Ah I'm so sorry, I thought there would be another door, and maybe a long hall and more doors, so very sorry I must be in the wrong place, sorry," he blabbers, looking down and stumbling backwards.
"Wait." The man raises his left hand, right hand still scribbling and scratching at the paper, still smiling, he motions toward the dark wooden seat opposite the dark wooden desk. "You're in the right place," he says without a trace of change on his face, the bizarre smile still there.
The clock on the wall ticks, creeping towards noon. Light filters through the old windows, catching on the heavy air and giving the room a divine feel, the art ordaining the walls further exaggerating the magical quality in the air. Curiously, most of the paintings are a depiction of magic in some form, some are simple and benign whilst others have a dark, demonic, atmosphere to them.
The floors in the room are wooden; the creaky kind. It's an odd design choice in contrast to the marble, but apt. The room itself feels like a piece of time, stilled and sealed away from the rest of the world.
"So, Cuff," the man clad in black leans forward, "how did you find the place?"
"Well, it's beautiful," Cuff replied, sitting very straight and still. "I like the style a lot, the paintings suit the title of the school perfectly." Cuff smirked, "I actually recognise that one," he points toward a particular painting, where an elderly man with gray hair is seemingly conjuring a flame, or masterpiece paintings from the flame with a wand. A child is leaning against one of his legs, while an owl is perched on the edge of a beautiful globe piece of furniture.
"The Conjurer, by Nathaniel Hone. It's my favourite painting actually." Cuff smiles.
"Very good," the suited man claps. "Truth be told my brother painted that, he'll be pleased you like it, but that's not what I meant," he frowns, leaning back. "I was wondering quite literally, how you found this place. See the name of the institute should be taken quite literally, so you see.." he trailed off, then clapped his hands again. "Well it doesn't particularly matter, you're here and that's that."
Cuff opened his mouth and paused, frowning, "The Institute for Magical Persons?" Cuff raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, yes. Well let's get on with it. My name is Nathaniel, it's a pleasure. Now I've looked through your cv and, well, yes," he grimaced. "The most important thing is that you mentioned you're a quick learner. So I'm quite pleased, have you any questions?" He asked, eyes wandering towards the roof.
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"Uhm," Cuff paused, taken aback. Was he implying I had the job? "I was wondering what my exact duties would be as a groundsman?" He asked, wondering if that made him seem like he hadn't prepared sufficiently.
"Well that hardly matters, does it?" Nathaniel smiled back at him.
"Well, yes, I imagine it does," Cuff replied, taken aback.
"No, no, it really doesn't," he smiled again, "now with all the questions out of the way, the salary will be €30,000, non-negotiable, there are room for pay-rises and whatnot, but that's not really important either is it," he smiled again.
Cuff raised a hand, "Uhm."
"Ah perfect, here you go," Nathaniel exclaimed, as he placed the quill in Cuff's hand, "sign here please," he smiled, as he shook his hand and pulled a piece of paper from seemingly nowhere. "No need to read it really, it's just your contract," Nathaniel smiled, stepping back to give Cuff room to sign.
Cuff was lost, he looked at his right hand, holding the quill. He paused and slowly began to feel a drag on his hand. He pulled against it, but it slowly strengthened. The quill was being pulled toward the page, bit by bit. Cuff couldn't stop it, he start trying to open his fingers but found they were glued to the quill. He yanked as hard as he could, but the quill slowly hit the page and began copying out his signature; so flawlessly done it was as if he himself had done it.
As soon as he finished the final stroke the quill dropped from his hand onto the floor, he finally managed to free his hand from the ghastly thing. The contract exploded into green flames on the desk and Cuff leapt back in fright.
"What the fu-" He shouted, jumping back again as Nathaniel leapt between him and the table.
"Nothing to worry about," he smiled at him.
The fire, glowing every shade from deep green to a light emerald green, grew stronger and the light from it more intense, until all of a sudden it popped and suddenly went out.
Cuff peeked forward, an odd symbol had burned into the table, not at all in the shape of the paper.
A deep dong rung out. The clock hit noon and a screeching owl leapt off from a beam high above, the window opening for it as it flew out of the room.
Nathaniel turned around smiling, only to find Cuff plastered against the wall, clearly frightened.
"Ah Cuff, Cuff, relax there's nothing to worry about. You'll get used to this place quickly. Now allow me to formally welcome you to The Institute for Magical Persons, Groundsman," he waved his hand, and candles scattered around the room lit up. "Seeing as your name is Cuff, I think I'll call you Link. Cuff Link," he burst out laughing.
Cuff merely stared, wide eyed around at the candles that had puffed into existence. One thing he hadn't seen before were the hulking books scattered all around the room that were now visible. The walls weren't actually walls, it was a library. This private study was plastered in books. His heart was beating so fast he thought it'd explode, it was like he'd just fallen into a dream. Actually maybe that was it, a groundsman job in a magical school where he earned 30k a year? It's clearly a dream. Only a dream could do this, which sadly meant he was still without a job. But at least he wasn't going insane.
He felt much better.
"Come Link, I'll show you your quarters and then I must really be on my way. Things to do, demons to enslave, you know what they say," Nathaniel winked and leapt forward, straight through the door.
Cuff rolled his eyes, and went to follow, leaping straight into the door. "Motherfu-" he shouted, crouched over holding his head, wasn't this a dream??
The door opened and Nathaniel poked his head through, "What's wrong with you, why would you go leaping into doors like that. Is there something wrong with your brain? Now come on, I'm in a rush."
Cuff got up and followed, opening and closing the door this time, and proceeded to follow Nathaniel through a twist of so many doors and passageways he couldn't remember it at all, until eventually he came to two large, wooden, double doors. Above them read 'Groundsman Quarters' in large stone letters.
"Well, here's the key, best of luck with everything. You don't need to do anything until tomorrow, so I would just familiarise yourself with your lodgings and somebody will come get you tomorrow, probably. Any important questions? On a tight schedule here," he smiled.
"Well, I was wondering if you had a map or something? I've no idea how I got here, and it's only noon so I might want to go for some fresh air or get used to the grounds." Cuff asked, nervously linking and unlinking his fingers.
Nathaniel smiled, "Nothing important, perfect. Well. Bye!" He waved and hopped backwards, and then broke apart, like tiny dust particles and dispersed.
Cuff had started raising his hand, but dropped it. Sighing he turned around and put the key in the door, grunting he shifted the key in the lock and with a grinding sound and a clunk the lock opened. He took a deep breath and began pushing the doors open, "it's just a dream," he kept repeating under his breath.
"It's just a..."