She’d never been to this part of London before. Granted, she didn’t go to much of London often, considering she didn’t have much business there; fresh out of university with a degree in Creative Writing, of all the damn things, she’d gone on a whim for something she’d spotted in the paper. A place that was all about the paranormal was looking for a new Archivist, and she was all about getting new inspiration for her stories.

What she hadn’t expected was to get a meeting with the Head of the Magnus Institute so soon after walking in.

She’d set foot on the grounds of the place, looking up at the magnificent building, and had walked inside. Looking around revealed an old structure filled with people working and bustling about. But she wasn’t interested in these floors. She wanted the Archive.

Going up to a receptionist at the front desk, she was barely given a glance. “Here to make a statement, are you?” the receptionist asked. The woman who clutched her purse filled with writing equipment to her chest shook her head, beginning to stutter.

“I’m, erm… I’m here for the Archivist position, actually.” The receptionist looked up over her glasses and smirked as if she was insane. She knew what she’d seen in the paper. Though, when she’d gone to talk to someone about it, she couldn’t find the paper anywhere. All she had was the address engraved in her mind. That must have been supernatural within itself, she guessed with a soft laugh, the receptionist continuing to stare at her. She swallowed. “Seriously,” she added for good measure.

“Sit over there. I’m sure we’ll have a better position open for you.” She frowned, sighing and doing as she was told. Sitting down on a creaky, uncomfortable chair in the room that served as the front of the Institute, she reached into her bag and cracked open a book. She was keen on going to libraries and carrying a few whenever she went somewhere.

Engrossed in her reading, she barely noticed when a well-dressed woman walked up to her, wearing a smile. “Miss?” She looked up from her book and quickly snapped it shut after slipping a bookmark inside, standing up.

“Yes?” she asked nervously. The woman grinned.

“The Head of the Magnus Institute would like to meet with you. For an interview.” She added the last part as if it was an afterthought. The woman frowned before nodding, following this new person into the Institute. Through the building, she saw many people doing many things, and she had to wonder what kind of place this really was. It only occurred to her after a moment that this woman said the Head of the Institute wanted to see her.

“May I ask why I’m meeting the Head and not some… superior of the Archivist?” she inquired softly. The woman chuckled goodnaturedly.

“The Archivist answers to the Head, of course.” She nodded, not understanding. Wouldn’t the previous Archivist be the one to interview? She chose not to bug this woman with more questions. They arrived at an office, the door closed, the woman smiling at her. “I’m Rosie, by the way. Mr. Bouchard will call you in soon. Please, have a seat.” She nodded and sat down, smoothing down her skirt. She wasn’t one for wearing skirts often, but going to London and a place like this seemed worth it. She looked around the place for a moment. Nondescript, except for the dark green wallpaper and the desk designated Rosie’s. There was a plaque by the door to the office Rosie disappeared into, one that read Head of the Magnus Institute: Elias Bouchard.

She frowned again. A name like that. Elegant. She shrugged and smiled, about to pluck her book from her bag when Rosie popped her head out from the office. “You can come in, Miss.” She stood quickly and smoothed down her blouse once more before nodding genially at Rosie, then swallowing hard as she entered the office of Elias Bouchard.

The room had no windows. Strange. And there was a painting behind the desk, one of a man whose name she couldn’t quite read, but he looked to be long dead considering the period-type clothes he wore. She brought her attention to the man standing behind his desk, who was smiling at her.

“Hello,” the man said, “I hear you’re looking to enter into our Archivist position?” There’s a smirk playing on his lips, reflected in his shining green eyes. She stepped inside and nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered, “I’m… Mallory Honmore.” Mallory winced at her name. What a clumsy name. Regaining her composure, she looked to the man who was waiting for her. “I saw your advert in the paper.”

“Of course,” Mr. Bouchard said, motioning for the seat in front of his desk. “Please.” Mallory nodded and pointedly waited for Elias to slip into his seat before taking her own. She became suddenly aware of how big the room was. A clock on the wall ticked along quietly. “So… you saw an advert in the paper?” he repeated, as if she hadn’t said it. Mallory nodded.

“Yes. The strangest thing is, when I went to show my friend about it, it was nowhere to be found.” Mallory chuckled, saying wistfully, “Perhaps that was something unnatural. Maybe it’s my strange introduction to this place.” Elias’ brow furrowed for a mere moment before his easy smile returned seamlessly.

“Perhaps,” Elias agreed, “well, Miss Honmore, the fact of the matter is we are in need of an Archivist. This seems to be fated, don’t you agree?” Mallory paused. Why wasn’t he asking for a resumé? Not that Mallory’s would be long. Elias leaned back in his chair slightly, still smiling that eased smile. “I’m not one to tamper with fate, and to be honest, none of our Archival Assistants seem ready for the job.” Mallory nodded, yet grew confused. There were other Assistants, but they went for someone from the outside? Still, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, she had to remind herself. And while you’re at it, she added spitefully in her mind, stop staring at him. She realized she was staring moments after he’d locked eyes with her. Blushing slightly, Mallory glanced away.

“May I ask why the previous Archivist left the position?” Mallory wondered aloud in a gentle tone. Elias nodded and let out a soft breath.

“She disappeared,” Elias murmured, “quite mysteriously, and we really do need an Archivist. I think you’ll be perfect for the job.” The way he glossed over the disappearance of the previous Archivist made Mallory’s heart skip a beat uncomfortably. Elias observed her for a moment as she stared through him. “Is something wrong?” Mallory was quick to shake her head, her brown hair swaying as she did.

“No,” she replied, “I apologize.” She mustered up a smile, Elias nodding and leaning forward to prop his elbows on his desk.

“I think,” Elias began slowly, “you’ll do wonderfully here.” He smiled, and Mallory almost instinctively pressed her thighs together. She was already a bit undone around this man. She knew if she hoped to keep this job, she’d better keep away from him or else a sexual harassment suit might break out. “Shall we go meet your new… coworkers?” He seemed hesitant to refer to them as such but, nevertheless, Mallory nodded. Standing, Mallory let Elias round to the door and hold it open for her, Mallory blushing and thanking him quietly. From there, they went to a staircase behind a closed door marked “Archive”, and descended into the depths of the Institute.

```

Mallory entered the Archival basement of The Magnus Institute to see four people reading, working, and hurriedly doing as they should. Mainly, three of them were running around quickly—it was the fourth of the group that was barking orders. When Mallory stepped foot onto the basement floor, everything seemed to go silent all at once. Heads snapped toward her, of various ages, looks, and two distinguishable genders. She blinked at them before hesitantly raising her hand and waving.

“Are you here to help?” the man who’d been ordering everyone around asked quietly, breaking the silence. “We’re clearly overwhelmed, thanks to Miss Robinson’s careless organization.” Mallory frowned.

“Miss Robinson was the previous Archivist?” she inquired, picking that up from the subtext. Mallory was rather poor with subtext. The four raised brows and exchanged looks, making Mallory’s face flush. “I- I mean, I’m not here to help, I’m here to—”

“Miss Honmore. Allow me.” Footsteps came down and Mallory turned her head to see her new boss walking down, into the Archive and addressing the room. “Everyone, please meet your new Archivist, Mallory Honmore.” The man who’d addressed Mallory allowed his jaw to drop for a mere moment before he closed his mouth, straightening up and standing from his chair. “Yes, Jon?” Elias asked with a low bite to his tone, barely discernible unless one was standing next to him, which Mallory somewhat was.

“I thought… I thought you said I’d be the new Archivist after Gertrude went missing,” Jon said. Mallory swallowed nervously. Had she stolen this opportunity from an assistant who had been working for a long while in the Institute? Elias chuckled softly.

“Were you looking forward to it?” he asked, but not maliciously, not like he wanted to hurt Jon or taunt him. “I… don’t think you’re ready,” Elias said at last, the rest of the group staring at Jon and Elias in this standoff of sorts. “I need someone more… willing.” He smiled at Mallory, who gave a sheepish attempt at a smile back. Jon let out a sigh, Mallory nervously smiling at everyone.

“As Mr. Bouchard said, I’m… Mallory,” she said slowly, realizing she was just repeating information ad nauseum. She swallowed. “I’m glad to be working with you all.”

“Jon’s already started recording statements,” a man with a gentle voice said, waving a hand as he held a stack of papers. “He’s rather good at it. Not that I’ve been… listening.” At this, he received a glare from Jon.

“Martin,” Jon said sternly. Mallory sighed and looked to her new boss then, shaking her head.

“I don’t want to cause trouble…” Elias pouted gently before looking back at the four assistants.

“And you won’t,” he said, more to them than to Mallory. “Now introduce yourselves and get her started. We have work to do.” Elias turned on his heel and gave a final, fleeting smile to Mallory before going up the stairs and out of the Archive. Mallory took a deep breath and walked into the Archive, looking around at its disarray.

“Wow,” she breathed, before going to the nearest person, a young woman. “Woman to woman,” Mallory began, “was that as bad as I thought it was?” The woman chuckled softly.

“Jon’s prickly around everyone,” she murmured, “I’m Sasha. Nice to meet you.” Mallory nodded, looking to the three others. The one whose name she had yet to learn raised his hand.

“I’m Tim Stoker,” he said with a nod, “but call me… anytime.” Mallory let out a laugh at that, covering her mouth with her hand politely. The boy named Martin offered a smile.

“Martin Blackwood. Glad to make your acquaintance.” Martin looked to Jon as the man steamed quietly, saying a soft, “Jon, don’t be impolite.”

“Pleasure,” Jon muttered, “I’m taking my break early.” He placed down his things, one of them notably being a tape recorder, and left the room. Mallory swallowed hard again.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Well,” she said with as much cheerfulness as she could muster, “shall we get to work?”

```

After much instruction from the three more cooperative Archival Assistants, Mallory had finally sat down and recorded a statement that, for some reason, wouldn’t go onto any sort of technological apparatus. Sasha explained that was simply how it was with some statements, as Jon had been finding. At Jon’s name, Mallory had winced. She felt horrible for what she’d done, but she needed the job. No matter how it paid, she had to be self-sufficient.

It was after recording the statement about some sort of human-like anglerfish that Mallory decided lunch was in order. The recording took a long time with her slight stumbles and her accidental theatrical air, which she tried to keep at a minimum. Standing, she poked her head outside of the small room used for recordings and saw Tim, Martin, and Sasha working silently. Jon still hadn’t returned, presumably having left early to blow off steam. Martin had explained it was usually the Archivist’s prerogative to send anyone home unless Elias dictated so, but Mallory knew to let it go for a while. Biting her nail, she smiled.

“I’m going to get some lunch.” She walked out and gingerly closed the door to the recording room, turning to everyone. “Do any of you want anything?” There was a chorus of “no”s and shaking heads, to which Mallory nodded. She’d hoped at least one of them had wanted to get lunch so they could discuss things properly, but it wasn’t so. Left to herself, Mallory left the Archive quietly, her purse in hand.

“I’ll go to the coffee shop I passed on the way here. It seems… nice,” she said to herself with little conviction. She was unenthusiastic after her encounter with Jon. She knew she could still like the man, if he ever came around to her. Mallory exited the Institute and into the sunny day in London, walking along the sidewalk to her destination.

Reaching into her bag, Mallory pulled out her book and tucked it under her arm as she walked. She planned on reading as soon as she arrived at the shop. It would be a pleasant break, time to clear her head from her new job’s strange ways and the new people’s strange behavior. She finally came upon it, walking inside and going up to order a coffee—she wasn’t really one for tea, the horrible Brit she was. “Sugar and cream, please,” she asked of the girl taking orders. Mallory didn’t care much for bitter things. She waited, reading her book until she felt the strange sensation in the back of her head that she was being watched. Looking around, she searched for anyone watching her. It was then she spotted none other than Elias Bouchard sitting at a table, drinking something and reading a paper.

Mallory blushed. To be caught on break by her new boss seemed… strange. Breaks were a place where one could recuperate from their long day’s work. She kept her eyes pointedly away, getting her order. She was about to turn and walk out when she heard a voice call out to her.

“Miss Honmore,” Elias said, the cafe being so small that she could hear him, “why don’t you come sit?” Mallory swallowed and nodded, putting her book away and going to slip into the seat across from her boss. She set her coffee down and folded her hands on her lap anxiously. Elias looked up from his paper and set it down with a smile. “Hello.”

“H-Hello, Mr. Bouchard,” Mallory said softly. Elias rose a brow, a silent dictation, a gentle correction. “Elias,” Mallory spoke, the name sounding strange but welcome on her tongue. Squirming a bit in her seat, Mallory said, “Call me Mallory.” Elias nodded and picked up his cup of what Mallory guessed was tea and had a sip ever so gracefully. He set the cup down, Mallory looking away nervously.

“How is the work going?” Mallory’s eyes instinctively snapped to Elias as he spoke. Mallory bit her lip.

“It’s fine,” she said, “Martin and Sasha and Tim have all been very helpful.” She didn’t quite know what to say in Jon’s defense, considering he went home early without permission. She instead stayed quiet, Elias nodding.

“Of course,” he said, “they should be helpful. I apologize for Jon’s behavior, I will have a word with him.” Mallory held up her hands and shook her head.

“Don’t,” she said, “in his defense, I took his job. He has every right to be angry with me.” Elias cocked his head slightly at her. She quickly backtracked: “I- I mean, I’m grateful. Really. The statement I read is- is fascinating, but I can’t help but feel guilty that I… stole this opportunity from him.” She sighed and reached up to wind some of her hair around her finger from anxiety. “Please, Mr. Bou- Elias,” she was quick to correct, “he’s not… his feelings aren’t unfounded.” After such a long-winded explanation, Mallory took a deep breath and picked up her coffee. Elias, looking at her with an ever-present smile curling the edges of his lips, nodded.

“Alright,” he said quietly, having another sip, “I won’t.” Mallory lowered her cup and smiled at him gratefully. She didn’t want to get in even more hot water with her coworkers. They were silent for a moment, Mallory feeling the quiet of their lack of conversation make her shudder.

“So… what are you drinking?” she asked, trying to start something if she wasn’t supposed to leave. Elias chuckled and smiled.

“Coffee. Black,” he supplied. “And you?”

“Coffee… cream and sugar,” Mallory said with a nod. “I, uh… never quite got into tea.” Mallory shrugged, reaching into her purse for a moment. She pulled out a pencil and a pad of paper, scribbling onto it for a minute or two. She was excited to use some things she’d read today in the statement in her stories but hadn’t remembered to write it down until now. Besides, Elias made her feel slightly uncomfortable, so she needed something to ground herself.

“What are you writing?” Elias asked curiously. Mallory looked up with a deer-in-the-headlights look, as if she’d been caught writing down someone’s credit card information. She grimaced.

“Just some things for my stories,” she replied, “I’m a writer.” Elias nodded, beckoning her to go on. “Um… paranormal romance,” she admitted with a shrug. “Not really horror… in the traditional sense.”

“You found the statement frightening?” Elias inquired. Mallory blushed deeply. If she were to say she found it frightening… that would be a lie. Elias chuckled softly. “Or are you the type of woman to find those things alluring, Mallory?” Mallory shuddered as Elias spoke her name, nodding despite herself.

“Yes,” she murmured, “as a paranormal romance lover… I can’t help it.” She shrugged and smiled a bit. “But this is serious work. I… shouldn’t be trying to take what I’ve heard and translate it into a narrative, should I?”

“On the contrary,” Elias said, making Mallory blink at him in shock, “maybe you should.” He laughed quietly. “Now we have two writers in the Archive. Though… from what I’ve heard, Martin’s poetry is atrocious.” Mallory chuckled softly, though she felt guilty for doing so. Putting down another writer was never her forte. “Well,” Elias said, “I’ve enjoyed our chat, but I’m afraid it’s time for me to return to the Institute.” Mallory nodded in understanding but found she was inwardly sad that he was going so soon. Elias slipped money onto the table to pay for his coffee, smiling at Mallory. “To this talk, and many more.”

“Y-yes,” Mallory was helpless but to stutter, “I look forward to it.” Elias gave one final nod, his smile burning into her pleasantly, as he left the coffee shop. Mallory watched him go before noticing the paper he’d left behind. Reaching over to it, she pulled it to her and looked at the date. She frowned as it read the same date she’d found the advertisement for the Institute, two days ago.

```

Mallory returned to her post with the same trepidation as before, nodding quietly to her colleagues before heading into the back room. She leaned against the door closing her off from the outside world before going inside to look around more closely. Many of the files were in disarray, thrown here and there. She picked up a file marked with a series of numbers and letters that amounted to late 1962 when it was placed in the 2000’s past box. She frowned, supposing Gertrude Robinson didn’t take good care of her Archive. Mallory would change that and take care of the Archives as a child.

She ended up doing a few more recordings and post-recording thoughts before coming upon a particular file of interest. Her eyes widened as she scanned the pages, smiling softly. Vampires. Mallory adored vampires in their fictional forms and had secretly hoped she’d find evidence they were real someday. Caught up in her excitement, she took the file and exited the back room, talking hurriedly. “Have any of you seen this… file…” Her voice trailed off as she saw everyone gone… but Jon, who had apparently returned. She swallowed as he turned toward her, his eyes judgemental as he ran a hand through his prematurely-greying hair.

“Yes?” he asked slowly. Mallory swallowed.

“Um… the vampire statement. You know, with—”

“Trevor Herbert,” Jon said with a nod, “I know that one.” Mallory blinked at him before smiling anxiously.

“Well? Don’t you think it’s fascinating? That vampires could be real?” She wanted Jon to share in her excitement, but she could tell quickly Jon wasn’t the type to entertain fantasies. He stared at her wordlessly, but his face said it all: How could she believe in such foolishness, even while working at an Institute for the abnormal? She sighed. “Sorry to bother you,” she muttered, returning to the back room before Jon could open his mouth to berate her.

Sitting in front of the cassette recorder with her tapes, marked and ready for storage, strewn about, Mallory picked up the loaded cassette and spoke, “Supplemental: I think Jon hates me. I know this isn’t quite the place to talk about it, but… oh, if only people would like me. Well, at least my boss, Elias, doesn’t seem too cruel.” She stopped the cassette and packed it away appropriately. She rather liked the organizational system Jon had already started and wasn’t keen to switch.

Working quietly and quickly, she got through a few more tapes before someone poked their head in her door—Tim. “Hey, Mallory. It’s time to go home for the night.” Mallory nodded and stood, putting her supplies away and sighing to herself. “Is… everything all right?” Tim inquired. Mallory slipped the tape into its proper resting place and shrugged.

“Dunno,” she whispered, “I don’t think I’m welcome here. I mean, the Archive seems to have taken to me—the job, I mean. It suits me, I think. But…” Her voice tapered off and she bit her lip, turning to Tim and crossing her arms. “I don’t feel like I belong here.” Tim chuckled softly and nodded.

“We’re all misfits around here,” he assured, “don’t worry. You’ll feel at home soon.” He smiled at her in such a way that Mallory couldn’t help but be reassured. She nodded. “Goodnight, Mallory.”

“Goodnight, Tim. Give my best wishes to the others.” Tim frowned, Mallory looking around. “I’m going to be a few minutes late to leave. This place needs to be appreciated for just a moment longer.” Tim shrugged and smiled.

“You’re the first person to talk about the place like it’s alive,” he commented. Mallory grinned.

“I’ve always thought writing is alive, in its own way,” she murmured, “this place is no different.”

```

Mallory had taken a few moments to herself in the Archive that ended up turning into twenty minutes, but she hadn’t realized this until she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She hurriedly went to gather her things, feeling like she’d been caught in some unspeakable act. “I’m going now!” she called, “was, uh, wrapping up a statement!” She didn’t know why she felt like she had to justify her actions—she was the Archivist, after all—but she felt embarrassed equally so.

“You like this place, don’t you?” a familiar voice said. She blinked and hoisted her bag over her shoulder, wrapping her coat around her body. Mallory walked out into the Archival Assistants’ area and saw Elias by the doorway out, smiling at her. Mallory bit her lip and nodded.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, “I really like it here.” She stood awkwardly between the two desks of Martin and Jon, shifting from one foot to the other. Elias sighed, a gentle sound, and Mallory felt a shiver go up her spine.

“Tim voiced some concerns,” he said, looking at her gently, “that you feel… unwelcome.” Mallory shrugged.

“I’d hoped that’d be said in confidence,” she admitted, “but… yes. I do feel that way. Though I feel like the job is taking to me.” She smiled a bit. “I really do have to thank you, Elias.”

“There’s no need,” Elias said with a nod, “I just… I hope you’ll come to see me as your friend, here.” Mallory’s smile grew and she nodded enthusiastically. Elias smiled back. “Good. Good. Now, shall I escort you out?” Mallory felt a blush creep up her cheeks, nodding a bit once more. He opened the door to the Archives in one swift movement and motioned for her. She said a soft, “Thank you,” as they ascended the steps and into the Institute, where they made their way out of the building.

Mallory couldn’t deny the way that the air seemed charged with electricity when Elias stood, walking beside her. He was smiling in that confident way only men of power had, and Mallory felt like his little kitten by his side. She blushed at her thoughts, noticing Elias glancing at her from the corner of her eye. When they got outside, Mallory let the cool night air wash over her, taking a deep breath to refresh her thoughts and mind. She smiled at her boss once more. “Goodnight, Elias,” Mallory spoke softly.

“Goodnight, Mallory,” he replied, nodding and turning to go down the street. Mallory watched him go for a moment with parted lips before smiling to herself and starting on her walk home. She went along her way smoothly, but after a few minutes, she looked over her shoulder to see no person anywhere near her. She shrugged it off but, even as she got to her apartment... she still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched.