Shivering, the shattered man sat tucked away in the corner of the velvet couch, huddled into the fabric of the cushions, desperately trying to warm himself. He pulled his legs in close to his body and wrapped his arms tightly around them, hugging them close to rest his chin upon his knees. Lips trembled with the chattering of his teeth; tainted by a blue-hue that stood out vividly against his pasty pale skin. Bloodshot eyes stared blankly forward; their crystal blue look had dulled overtime, losing all signs of life. His face was worn and exhausted beneath the locks of soaked and darkened mahogany hair that stuck to his skin. Cotton draw-sting pants and shirt sagged over his malnourished frame, still dripping.

Aside from the natural way his muscles twitched as he quivered, Cypher did not move. He grew more fatigued as his body ran through what little energy it had and he began to feel dazed. His fingers had numbed and it felt as if thousands of needles were attempting to puncture his skin at once. At first glance, it would have been impossible to tell; he was too drained to even wince. Remaining silent, he stared forward while screaming vociferously within his head, desperate pleas echoing off the insides of his skull. Why me...? Why bloody...fucking me!?

The melancholy sight tore at the doctor’s thin heartstrings. Guilt pierced through his chest, like an arrow piercing his heart. Remorsefully Dr. Heung sighed, leaning against a filing cabinet on the opposite side of the room. One hand rested upon the dusty casing, dangling over the edge. The other was placed on his hip to pull back on his jacket slightly. "He did it again, didn't he?"

The doctor's voice sounded muffled in his water-clogged ears. Cypher gave no response; he did not even look towards the man in acknowledgement that he heard his hollow words. Vividly he relived the prior moments again...And again...Like he did every night. As the numbness crawled up his arm, he could feel the restraints once again. They pinned his arms securely to his emaciated abdomen as the straightjacket latched his wrists tightly behind his back. The leather straps within the hydrotherapy tub itself held him down as it wrapped over his chest and pinned his ankles together, adding to the cumbrous pressure that overwhelmed his fragile body. He could remember having a heated conversation with Dr. Hayes as he was lowered into the tub, like so many nights before. While he could not recall the individual words exchanged between himself and the cruel doctor, he knew he had struck a few nerves. Seeing the sadistic grin fade to frown with displeasure felt like a victory to Cypher; at least, until the water came.

The faucet ran, filling the bathtub rapidly with freezing water. The canvas material of his jacket bloated, weighing him down more as he urgently strained against his bindings. Gazing up with fearful eyes, he pleaded with Dr. Hayes to let him go, just this once. Only once; one night without suffering through the traumatizing pain. Yet the young man's frightened begging only seemed to satisfy the doctor more. Gradually the icy water covered his whole body, stinging his skin as his temperature plummeted. The hefty weight of the jacket pulled him closer to the metal bottom despite his struggles to remain afloat. The water rose to his neck. Eventually, it covered his face. The tub had been filled enough to fully submerge Cypher, though still allowed his nostrils to parts of his lips to be above surface to prevent him from drowning - but only if he continued to fight long enough keep himself from dipping beneath. Gasping for air, he watched with disoriented vision from beneath the ripples as the doctor nodded to the nurses standing around. Together, they lifted a heavy wooden cover that laid across the tub. Generally, it was used it keep the inside clean when not in use, but for Dr. Hayes he enjoyed using it to turn the metal basin into a watery coffin. He would leave the weakened and terrified Cypher in complete darkness to struggle for his life.

Five minutes...thirty minutes...An hour...Two hours...A day...

Why the bloody hell else would I be like this!? Cypher’s thoughts bellowed, jaw still clenched in despondent anger. The only sound that seeped from his tightened lips was a raspy cough as phlegm exited his tortured lungs. His heart still raced within his heaving chest; panic and adrenaline rushed through his chilled veins. Despite the lack of feeling in his arms, he pulled his legs in closer, rocking nervously where he sat with eyes fixed on the fireplace the couch sat in front of. The burning coals reflected in his eyes as he watched the flames dance, gaze dashing back and forth between the fire and the fine rug that laid across the granite floor. He calculated how quickly a single spark could set the carpet aflame and tried to imagine how the fire could spread throughout the whole wicked building. Burning it to the ground... sending Dr. Hayes to the fiery hell he should be damned to!

‘No...No no no...Can't do it...’ Tormented thoughts took pity on his fellow inmates. Trapped within their dismal cells and bound to their beds there would be no chance for them to survive if the building burned. Though perhaps a death brought on by smoke and fire would have been more merciful than being left in the mad doctor's hands.

Lost to these thoughts, he was oblivious to the sound of the oak door to Dr. Heung's office swinging open on oily hinges. Poomf! The soft yet sudden thud of clothing on the table startled him out of his trance. He reacted. Springing back, Cypher pushed himself against couch cushions, his arms lifting to shield his face from the unseen threat. A leg rose and was held out, poised in preparation to kick away whoever would try to grab him.

"Shh! It's alright. It's alright," Dr. Heung held his open palm out towards the frightened man, trying to calm him as though he were a petrified animal. "They're just clothes. See?" He patted the pile of folded garments. "Clothes for you." Cypher eased slightly as he watched the doctor step out of his peripheral vision. His wide, bewildered eyes did not follow the doctor’s movements; they kept still, facing forward, frozen in place. Heung paced patiently behind the couch, stopping a few feet away with his back turned to his distraught patient. "You need to get out of those wet clothes, Cypher, or you'll suffer from hypothermia. I won't look; I'll give you some privacy."

Taking his glasses off, he pulled out a tiny cloth from his jacket's front pocket. Using his fingers he gently kneaded the lenses clean. Glancing over his shoulder to observe Cypher’s progress, he was surprised to see that he had already dressed and returned to his fetal position on the couch. The moist, discarded clothes sat in a pile on the floor. Sighing heavily, he grabbed a thin sheet off his office chair and moved around behind Cypher, draping it over him and helping to wrap it around his shuddering frame. Grasping his shoulder, the doctor gave it an encouraging squeeze before pulling a nearby chair up beside him. He leaned forward, fretfully rubbing his hands together as he looked upon his patient with compassion, "Come on, Cypher. I need you to talk to me or I can't help you."

Dreary eyes shifted in the doctor's direction, but he only glanced him from the corner of his narrowed vision. A harrowing growl rumbled in the depths of Cypher's throat. He was disgusted by the sympathetic way the physician spoke to him. His voice soft and fatherly; yet his actions spoke otherwise. Dr. Heung had always been tender to Cypher to an extent. Always calm and patient with him, trying to make him comfortable in his living hell. Yet despite his righteous motives, the therapist never did more than speak to him, picking and choosing when to let his voice be heard. He rarely spoke up against the tortures forced upon the Englishman even when witnessing them first hand. Gulping down another gurgling cluster of phlegm, he finally spoke, his voice hoarse and low, "Then make him stop, doc."

Dr. Heung's chest heaved with a deep inhale. His breath was hot as he exhaled, "You know I've been trying, Cypher..."

"Could have fooled me, doc," a sarcastic smirk flashed across his face before slowly fading again.

The doctor slumped forward with a groan and ran a hand through his hair. When he sat up again he saw a young nurse walk in carrying a tray with food arranged on it. She squeezed her way between the chair and couch to set it on the small table beside them, nodding towards the doctor before turning way. A warm bowl of creamy tomato soup was placed in the middle of the tray; its milky-red liquid gave off the delectable aroma of sun-dried tomatoes and spices. Two slices of toast were cut and set around the bowl with a glass of clear water placed beside the plate. A low rumble echoed within the pit of Cypher's stomach in response to it. The alluring scent caressed his nose and he tightened his grip around his legs, struggling against his will to pounce the tray.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" Dr. Heung questioned while pushing the table a tad closer to the couch. "Dr. Hayes has been starving you again, hasn't he? When was the last time you had a meal, Cypher?"

"A day. T-two days..." his body seemed to shrink beneath the sheet, fingers clenching tightly onto the material of his pants' legs forcing him to remain in place. "Maybe three."

"Then eat."

He shook his head violently, " No, no no..."

"Why not?" Dr. Heung could feel his shoulders growing heavy from the reluctant hesitation.

"No, no...It is drugged. It is always drugged..."

Once again, the door to Heung’s office opened. The old creak of the door nearly caused the paranoid man to leap out of his seat. He partly expected to see the deranged doctor entering the room to finish his punishment for his unruly behavior from earlier, but relaxed slightly at the sight of a stranger. Dr. Heung eyed his company a moment before rising to his feet and grabbing a piece of toast from the plate. He broke the corner from the bread and dipped it into the soup, watching as Cypher's gaze returned to him. He popped the bread into his mouth, savoring the delicious, buttery taste, "Mm. See? It's not drugged. Now try to eat." The doctor let him be as he approached the scruffy stranger. He warmly gasped the ready hand offered to him. "Jacob, thank God your clearance went through."

Jacob uneasily shifted his weight, "Yeah...I had no problem getting in here." He looked around the room for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. He had investigated abandoned asylums before, capturing EVPs of haunting screams and lost souls' last words in the empty rooms of death, but he had never been inside an active mental institution before. His face had paled at the horrifying sight of grim faces looking out at him from the other side of glass, pleading with him to take them away or kill them to put them out of their misery. It was no surprise to the veteran ghost hunter that spirits of the past could become so violent. Disgusted by the fact that such ill-treatment still existed, he clenched his hands into fists, eventually catching sight of Cypher in the distance. He watched as the scrawny kid reached towards the bowl of soup with trembling hands before pulling them back as though he’d been burned. Anxiously running his hands through his thin hair, he continued to rock back and forth on the balls of his feet, "Is that the bastard?"

"Yes, that's Cypher," turning, the doctor approached his desk where he began sorting some papers.

"Why in the hell is he doing that?"

"He is trying to resist the urge to eat," he began stacking the paperwork before stapling it together. "Give him a few minutes and then his instinctive needs will override his will."

Jacob took a half step closer. His green army jacket sagged partially past his finger tips as he leaned forward, taking a more careful look at the man in the sheet. Just as the doctor said, he had given in and began to feast on the food presented to him, nearly swallowing the whole bowl regardless of how hot it was, "The fuck?"

"He suspected it was drugged and he's right," Dr. Heung placed the paper into an envelope before handing it to Jacob, "Nothing powerful, of course. Just an analgesic for pain, a tricyclic antidepressant, and a sedative. I'm not sure how long it will take for you two to get to wherever you are going, but he shouldn't be any trouble for most, if not all, of the drive."

"Is he dangerous...?"

"No, he's just prone to being paranoid and overly anxious. Panic attacks are very common with him."

With his arms crossed, Jacob turned towards his old friend, his finger jabbed in Cypher’s direction, "I don't trust this sonvabitch in my truck. I want him restrained."

Heung sighed, "I don't believe that's necessary, Jacob..."

"I don't give a fuck," he swung his arms down as he paced in a small circle before the desk. "Listen to me, David, I'm putting myself way out there to do this for you. There's a damn good chance the Agency is gonna take one look at the bastard and send him back. The least you can fucking do for me is make sure shit doesn't go down on the drive back to my facility."

The arguing between the two men came to a pause as a large thud echoed through the room, followed by the shattering of glass. Both looked over to see the silhouette of Cypher collapsed on floor in the dim firelight, the soup bowl in pieces beside him. A shot of dread ran through Dr. Heung as he rounded his desk and dashed to the man's aid. Bending down, he gently placed two fingers on his patient's neck, feeling for a pulse. He relaxed to see that the sedative had only taken proper effect in helping put the troubled boy to sleep. Glancing up, he met Jacob's gaze, "Alright, I'll make the arrangements for you."






It was always the first sense to come to him as he began to regain consciousness. His body was tense and stiff, still drained and lethargic from the narcotic in his bloodstream. Muscles ached as his arms were stretched behind his back; not surprisingly in the slightest, but this was a different feeling than he had grown use to. Rough rope brushed against his wrists and nothing more. His arms were not pinned to his sides nor were his legs pulled together. No straps around his knees or ankles, nor was he pushed down on his bed. A soft, suede material caressed his exposed skin and cheek as he tried shaking away the numbness throughout his limbs. His body slowly rocked along with the steady movement around him. He was moving?

Sound followed next, confirming his suspicions. The low roar of a motor echoed, growling as the vehicle rolled forward. He could hear the faint sound of rock music playing over the engine, the volume low so only the driver could hear it. The lyrics were inaudible and incomprehensible as it followed the subtle melody. Then, taste. A slimy glaze coated his teeth as a foul flavor brushed against his tongue. He must have vomited sometime after falling unconscious; yet another thing that did not surprise him. The doctor had lied to him. That was all he seemed to do recently. Lie. Slowly, his sense of smell returned. The air around was not stale and dusty like the air in his cell, but fresh and clean with a hint of pine and other natural scents lingering in it. It was all tainted by the intoxicating smell of a burning cigarette. ’How peculiar’, he wondered to himself as he tried to comprehend the situation he was in. He was familiar with cigar smoke; Dr. Hayes often would light one and enjoy it while watching Cypher struggle, turning the man's torture into a spectacle, but he had never smelled cigarettes within Westbury's walls. Or trees...

Finally, his vision returned. Darkness greeted him, dotted with yellow and white spots as his distorted sense began to adjust itself. With time, he was able to see more clearly and found himself staring up at the ceiling of a vehicle. The dashboard lights cast a bright green glow throughout the dim cabin. Leaning forward, he pulled himself up and swung his legs over the seat to face forward and focus out the window. Trees were flashing by. Stars twinkled in the night sky. The stars...Sparkling so brightly against the navy canvas. Cypher could not help but be awestruck by the sight. He could not recall when he had seen them last. Had he ever seen the stars?

"Mornin', sleeping beauty," a man’s raspy voice broke the silence. A hint of a Boston accent. Cypher's gaze shifted from the gorgeous sky to the back of the stranger's head - or what he could see of it from around the driver’s seat. His red scruffy hair blew gently in the wind from the open window. A cigarette dangled from the fingers of his left hand as his right steered the SUV. Then, briefly shifting their positions, Jacob reached up to adjust the rear-view mirror until he stared into the blank look upon his passenger's face. "I'm sure you've got a lot on your mind. Wakin' up in the back of a weird car in the middle of nowhere."

Shrugging, Cypher shifted in his seat. It was true that he did not know where he was, who he was with or why he was bond in the stranger's vehicle, but honestly, he did not care. All that was on his mind was that he was not in his cell. Not in the asylum, but most importantly, he was outside.
"May I use the water closet, please, good sir?"

"Eh...Yeah sure..." Jacob's brow rose in confusion as he readjusted the mirror again,"Really now? You wake up in the back of some guy's truck, and the first question you ask is to take a piss?" Inhaling deeply, the red end of his cigarette glowed brightly. The man released a small puff of smoke from between his lips with a sigh, "For all you know, I could be a serial killer planning to murder you in the most gruesome way possible."

"I doubt that greatly, sir."

"Oh yeah? And why's that, smartass?"

"Well for starters, sir, if your intention was to murder me you would have done so by now. If you are simply killing for the sake of killing, why does it matter if I am alive a few hours or not? And if your intention was to torture me beforehand, then you would have not drugged me. My pleas would have excited you." Wiggling his wrists, he could feel the looseness of the rope that kept them together. "Besides, sir, my bindings are very poorly done and I am sitting in the back seat. I see no weaponry of any kind or a large enough bag for my body, or even a shovel for that matter. No gloves or any sort of cleaning supplies, meaning you would be carelessly leaving your mark everywhere at the crime scene." Smirking, he leaned forward over the seat, "And what type of serial killer would bother to grant their victim access to a water closet?"

The scruffy man groaned, "David didn't tell me I was transporting Sherlock fuckin' Holmes..."

The name caused Cypher's head to perk slightly, "Is that my name, sir?"

"Wha...What?"

"Sherlock Holmes."

"No...No it's not," Finishing his cigarette, Jacob flicked it out the window. He coughed for a moment while shot a quick glance back at the young man sitting behind him, "Don't tell me you don't know your own goddamn name."

Cypher sighed in disappointment as he sat back in the seat, "I only know what I am called: Cypher." The name left a bitter taste in his mouth. It’s what he’d been called since waking up in the asylum years ago. Both Dr. Heung and Dr. Hayes called him by it, so it had to be his name. But it didn’t feel right, like a false identity. "Pleasure to meet you, mister...?"

"Jacob," the man called back as he ran his hand over his rusty-colored beard, trying to read the road signs in the darkness as they drove by. "Jacob Walters and as of tomorrow, once your paperwork goes through...If it goes through...I will be your professional babysitter."

Confused, Cypher went to speak but his sentence was cut short as the SUV turned sharply to the right. His weak body swayed with the turn causing him to tip over back onto his side. The vehicle had come to a stop, only adding onto his uncertainty. Looking up, he saw that the world outside had grown much brighter than before as the neon lights lit up the gas station parking lot they had stopped in. Jacob had stepped out from the driver's seat and rounded to the back, opening the door and glaring down at Cypher with his bushy brow raised above his eye.

"In other words, you'll be working for me," Jacob reached over and grabbed Cypher by the neck of his shirt. Pulling the younger man up, he helped him sit straight as he dug into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife. He kept quiet as he began to cut through the ropes that had bond the young man’s hands. They instantly snapped apart and swung forward when released.

Pleased to have been freed, Cypher began to rub the soreness out of his thin wrists. Dark blue and purple indentations encircled them, blotching his pale skin from bruises, "Thank you, Mr. Walters."

"Yeah yeah," He frowned as he glanced down at the pitiable man. His thin frame was poorly hidden beneath the pale-green patient outfit that hung loosely off of him. Sighing, Jacob removed his jacket and placed it over Cypher's shoulders. "I don't have much for you, kid, but this will at least prevent you from standing out a bit."

Inside, the gas station was silent other than the faint hum of the refrigerators located near the back. A lone clerk stood slumped over the counter, looking over at the men in a tired daze before yawning and going back to reading his magazine sprawled out across the counter. Jacob motioned for Cypher to head towards the rear of the building, reminding him that he only had five minutes before Jacob would pull him out. With a nod, he thanked his company before hurrying to the lavatories, his bare feet patting on the dirty tile as he walked.

Hastily, Cypher entered the small, dim room and locked the door. The small space felt...homey, though he was pleased to see the pale yellow, grungy walls of the restroom over the eggshell-white patted walls he was use to. He turned sharply towards the toilet where he quickly relieved himself. Swiveling on his heels, he turned toward the sink. A bony hand hovered above the faucet, wary of turning it. His jaw clenched as the water began pouring from the rusted tap, splashing against the stained porcelain basin. The sound of rushing water filled his ears causing his head to spin as an ill feeling grasped tightly around his pounding heart. Thrusting his hands beneath the warm water, he rubbed them vigorously before stopping the flow as quickly as he could, deadening the noise once and for all. His wide eyes gazed up from the sink and onto the mirror hanging before him.



Inching closer to the reflective glass, Cypher rose his hand to the side of his face. Dull blue eyes intently watched his slender fingers run down his sunken cheek. Dark, greasy bangs hung over his forehead above bushy eye brows, standing out against his pasty, pale skin. Unkempt facial hair burst through his pores across his chin and lower jaw. He was a disaster with dark circles surrounding his eyes. Slowly shrugging the jacket from his shoulders he let it drop to the floor before slipping out of the hospital shirt to expose his torso fully. Gaunt emaciation greeted him in the form of protruding ribs. He allowed his hand to glide down his chest and sides as he examined his thinness, frowning at himself as he wrapped his skeletal hands around his exposed hip bones. He had been completely unaware of how sickly he looked; he had always questioned what he looked like but now after seeing it for himself, he wish he did not know it. Sighing heavily, he slipped back into his shirt and jacket before opening the door. He was startled to see Jacob leaning against the wall beside it.

No words were exchanged between them as they returned to the SUV. Mechanically, Cypher stepped towards the back with his hands placed behind him, waiting to be bond again. Jacob followed, raising an eyebrow at the sight. He shook his head while opening the trunk and pointing forward, "Get up front."

Cypher lowered his hands to his side again, cocking his head in question. Unsure of the man's motives, he opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. Jacob entered not long after, dropping a cardboard box into Cypher's lap, "What is this, sir?"

"Fuck if I know," Jacob groaned as the engine roared to life, "Some shit David gave me and asked me to give you."



Pulling the flaps back, Cypher looked inside. The box had very little in it: only a silver pocket watch, a scuffed yellow yo-yo, and a ratty teddy. Reaching inside, his finger tips caressed the soft teddy bear coated with a dusty scent. He pulled the child's toy out and gazed at it, his eyes softening from the familiarity the stuffed bear brought, but also saddened by the unsettling longing that resurfaced. His finger tips brushed over the soft fur. Following the bear’s muzzle before pulling his hand away as he reached the nose. A faint comforting smile rose on his chapped lips, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "Milo..."

Jacob glanced over, "Huh?"

"Milo. That's the bear's name," he replied, squeezing the bear tightly with one hand before resting it back inside of the box. "Dr. Heung gave it to me...I think." Lifting his hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose as a pulsating headache drilled at his skull. "He use to keep me company when I was little. I called him Milo...for some reason or another. Such a silly name, do you not think, sir?" A faint, awkward chuckle rolled from deep within his chest. A feeling of loneliness crippled him again, causing him to draw his arms around himself in attempts to simulate an embrace as he settled in the seat. Leaning against the door for support, he stared blankly out into the passing world and whispered to himself, "I wonder if people name their children Milo...?"

To the east, the sky exploded in color. Bright pinks, yellows, pale blues, oranges, and purples emerged from the black slate of the night sky. The light instantly caught Cypher's attention, causing his depression to disperse momentarily. Sitting a bit straighter in his seat he stretched his neck out to get a better look of the sky on the other side of Jacob. The driver took note of his passenger's desperate attempt to see the sunrise and gently pulled the SUV over to the side of the road. "Let's make this quick, alright, kid?"

With his jaw hung stupidly open, Cypher burst from the passenger side and sprinted around the front of the vehicle. The cool breeze soothed him as it swept across his skin. His lungs happily accepted the fresh air. Standing in awe beside Jacob, he gazed up towards the sky with watery eyes, astonished by the way the colors changed as the light grew brighter, before the sun finally rose above the tree line. Warm, golden rays fell upon him. Tearing the jacket from around him he held his bare arms out, soaking in the sun as it crept higher into the sky. His skin tingling from its warmth. A wide smile stretched from ear to ear as he stood with his eyes closed, completely caught in the moment.



Jacob stood silently beside him for a moment before thrusting a cold bottle into his open hand. The icy chill ran through his fingers and up his arm, breaking Cypher’s blissful trance. Confused, he lowered his arms and looked down at the brown bottle he now grasped, "What is this, sir?"

A second passed as Jacob chugged a drink down, "Beer. What the fuck else is it gonna be? Lemonade?"

Raising the bottle to his lips, Cypher's nose wrinkled at the smell. His lips curled with a sour expression at the bitter taste of a sip, "I think...I think it is a tad too early for this, Mr. Walters."

"Nonsense," Jacob bluntly stated before taking a second drink. "Times like this call for celebrating." Clink, the glass bottles chimed as the brawly man toasted Cypher. The two weakly smiled at one another as they drank side by side. The look of satisfaction that lingered within Jacob's green-hazel eyes was one that Cypher had never forgotten. It was the look of a man with experience - the type one could trust - and a look that would not fade with time.



The soft hum of the fish tank gargled in the background as Cypher nervously rubbed his hands together as he peered up at his superior's door from beneath the rim of his hat. Trying his best to tune out the water trickling from the electronic pump, he began to pace across the tile floor of the lobby. Hands were in his pockets as he strolled from one side of the room to the other, listening to the playful coos of Migisi as she trudged across the secretary’s desk. She picked up shiny paperclips and stacked them in a pile as the working woman encouraged the jackdaw’s thieving ways by placing more sparkling objects before her. The carefree antics of the bird did not bring a smile to his face as it normally did, however; too many other troubling thoughts swirled within his mind.

Desperate to find something to preoccupy his racing thoughts, he took refuge by obsessing himself in the AoM propaganda poster and map hanging on the wall. It displayed a finely dressed man with his finger to his lips, shushing the reader with the words “Silent Protector” written on the top and the AoM logo. The global map displaying all the locations of the AoM’s operations. Their five main branches labeled by golden stars: London, Washington D.C., Tokyo, Sydney, and Cairo. Hundreds of smaller red circles dotted the map, indicating locations of all the smaller offices including the Manchester branch that he was assigned to. The only thing missing was the main headquarters. No one within the Agency other than very few selected agents knew of its location but the offices were full of rumors. Some speculated the headquarters was located in the middle of Antarctica or on a space station orbiting earth. Others claimed it was located at the center of the Bermuda Triangle and all the disappearances in the triangle were all caused by the AoM protecting their secret. Some claimed they were located on a man-made island floating above what was believed to be R’lyeh in the South Pacific, waiting the return of Cthulhu.

The door opened behind him, startling him out of his trance. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as a semi-familiar man and woman - both dressed in a similar fashion to him - trotted by. They were field operatives he had seen around the office, occasionally passed by one of them between debriefings or on his way to place his reports into the AoM’s archives. Even attempted to pretend to care about the woman’s life during last year’s Christmas party until she began to bore him with her constant chattering of her cats. He could not recall either one of their names, though that was common among the field agents. Most were suspected to not live pass their first few years on the force, so it was easier to not risk growing attached to a co-worker. A goal easy to obtain as must of the agents were naturally cold, distant people.

“That’s him, isn’t it?” the woman whispered to her partner as they passed by. “The one from the asylum?”

The man nodded to her as he reached over grabbing the top part of her arm and pulling her slightly closer to him with his eyes locked on Cypher’s, “Yeah. I think so.”

“Think he’s dangerous?”

“I don’t know. Probably best to keep away...”

Cypher uneasily glanced down at the floor to break the stare and waited for them to be farther down the hall before looking up once again, trying his best to not let their meaningless gossip run too deep. He had grown accustom to harsh remarks made towards him. Clients often showed much displeasure towards how the way AoM handled their work and more times than none, he was forced to play the middleman. Taking verbal beatings seemed to have become a staple to the job.

Jacob stood with his arm crossed as he stared from the opposite side of his desk. He frowned and stroked his scruffy bearded as he glared disappointingly at Cypher through the open door. The men’s gazes locked as Jacob motioned for him to enter, gently closing it behind him. Gulping, he approached as his superior turned to the shelves and grabbed two manila envelopes. “Do you know what this is?” he asked as he tossed the smaller of the two onto the desk. “This is the file of an average agent and this one...” A second thicker folder flopped onto the desk. Paper corners stuck out around the edges of the flaps as it nearly doubled the first one’s size, “Is your report. A noticeable difference don’t you think?”

He stepped up to the desk leaning partly on it as he gazed down at the two folders. Pupils jumped between them before returning to Jacob’s hazel-hollow stare, “Yes, I would say so, Mr. Walters, but what is the meaning of this?”

Pointing to the chair setting in front of the desk, Jacob motioned for Cypher to sit, his index finger curving downward as if he were commanding a dog. The young man groaned while obeying, allowing his thin frame to collapse onto the padded material seat before resting his elbows on his knees. His eyes were still fixed on his higher-up who began to fumble through the paper work spread across the desk. “It seems as if you have caused quite a commotion that’s caught the board’s attention. Do you remember the incident at Kleitman University?”

Slender fingers wrapped around his pointed chin as Cypher thought. Gently tapping his thumb on his shaved face while he searched his memories. Most of his time spent on the mission had been forgotten, a reasonable result of being sedated for a majority of the weekend. He faintly could remember hearing blurred conversations that hovered over his unconscious body and the angered look of Madem Ashwood’s face as he released the demonic being on her. He smirked; feeling a sense of satisfied victory at the memory, “Why yes, sir, I do.”

Jacob frowned as he mocked him, “Why good, because the board’s not happy about it. Nor are they happy about your panic attack during the dobhar-chu case. You caused a tens of thousands of dollars worth of collateral damage within just those two missions and that is not including your past cases. Calling you ‘reckless’ and a ‘liability’.”

“A liability, sir...?” Cypher straightened in his seat as concern rushed though him. While he personally did not care for most of the board’s decision, he still feared them. Not because of the loss of his job, but because they were the only thing keeping him from returning to Westbury Sanatorium. The ones who kept Dr. Hayes at bay. He did not fully understand how they worked or what they thought, but it had been made clear to him the moment he joined AoM that it would not be wise to upset them.

“That’s not all...Rumor has it that a certain agent has been practicing unauthorized exorcisms and magic usage. Possibly forbidden magic at that! Any idea who that could be, eh Cypher?”

The younger man sighed heavily as a nervous sweat trickled alongside his face. Hands clenched together as his right leg began an anxious jitter, “No, sir...”

“There is no need to lie to us, boy,” A woman’s voice interrupted them, catching both of their attentions. They both turned to face her. Jacob’s eyes widened as he seemed to jump into a military stance. Arms pulled tightly to his sides as he stood tall and majestic facing forward. Cypher, on the other hand, rose a brow as he studied her; she was a new face to him. Curvy body and busty chest fit snugly into a tight, thigh-high red dress with the AoM arm band wrapped around her left arm. Fairly tall with long blond hair curling around her elegant face. One bronze-colored eye hidden behind an eye-patch and ruby lips smirking as she entered the room. Her high heels clicked on the hard tile floor of Jacob’s office. Bewildered by her appearance, Cypher rose to his feet and offered her his chair. Her smirk shifted to a faded smile in amusement at his politeness. “Kindness will not make me go easy on you.”

“Beg your pardon, ma’am.”

Jacob scoffed beneath his breath, “Do you not know who that is?!” There was a silent pause between the two men as he waited for Cypher’s answer. He frowned when he didn’t receive one, glaring at his employee, “That is Claudette LeCoure, the Head Administer of the European Agency.”

She continued to smile as she stepped closer to Cypher. Her young eyes looked him over with a lustful sparkle as she stood before him. “Excuse me for gawking, boy, but it is not everyday that I get the pleasure to meet an agent who has lived past five years. Let alone one of your stature and build.”

Cypher gulped, growing uncomfortable with the way she stared at him. “The pleasure is all mine, madame.”

“Walters, you may relax,” LeCoure called over Cypher’s shoulder as she brushed away a stray part of her bangs from out of her working eye.

“Yes, ma’am,” he respectfully replied while allowing his muscles to ease. Returning to his previous stance with his arms loosely at his side.

LeCoure’s gaze returned to Cypher, eying him blankly. She spoke in an unusually soft voice, “So you are the agent that has been causing a stir in the main offices. Surprisingly really, you’re like a twig but you have the whole European Agency flustered.”

“Really now?” The corner of Cypher’s lip rose at the ‘praise’ she seemed to be rushing over him. “Is that why you are here, ma’am?”

“One reason,” she replied as she tilted her head to the side, gazing up at his charming face, “The AoM needs more men like you, Mr. Cypher. Ones who are not afraid to take charge of their situation, who rather risk punishment from authority over running from their mission with their tales between their legs. However, even those men need to know their places...” Quickly, she reached up and grabbed the knot of his tie, pulling his face closer to her’s. “Remember who you work for, boy. When I say jump, you should already be in the air...” Pushing him slightly as she released her grasp, he stumbled back, surprised by how quickly her passive voice turned aggressive along with her behavior.

“You need men like me? Well, ma’am, I do not have to stay here, ” Cypher quickly threatened. His hands ran along the silk tie, adjusting it back into place. “My contract does not specify any restrictions on me leaving of my own free will.”

The woman cackled; room filling with her witch-like laugh, “And do what, Mr. Cypher? Crawl back to the asylum you spawned from? Or maybe attempt to live a normal life? Find a wife to settle and become a family man?” A wicked grin curled about her ruby lips as she watched him wince from the emotional stab. She had struck a nerve somewhere within him, and continued to belittle him out of pleasure. “Men like you do not know the meaning of a normal life. Even if you were to leave, just tell me...Tell me how long would it be before that mad doctor of yours shows up at your door, hm?” Taking a step forward, she stood before him with her hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed as her malicious smile widened. “Face it, boy, all that waits for you outside of the Agency is a slow, lonely death...And you know it. Are you ready to die, Mr. Cypher? Because if so, there are so many ways I can arrange it.”

Cypher remained quiet as he clenched his hands into fists at his side. Sighing softly in defeat, he returned her cold stare. While he didn’t particularly value his life, he was not quite ready to give it away. “No, ma’am.”

Her expression softened, returning to the way she looked when she first stepped through the door. It was as though she had changed identities completely before patting his cheek. “Good, boy. You are dismissed.”