Dark Silence

22 days (2)

A black Volvo carefully parked between luxury expensive cars right near a skyscraper. One might have thought that Darnell had come to the building of some significant corporation that was running a multimillion-dollar business, but it was just the residence of the inscribers. Darnell waited for Madeleine to get out of the car and join him, and headed for the skyscraper, glittering in the rays of the autumn sun with polished glass windows. At the very top of the roof, the building was crowned with the symbol of the inscribers - a summoning circle with a five-pointed inverted star inside. Compared to this establishment, the five-story building of the Agency where Darnell worked seemed like a real hellhole, despite the fact that the inscribers, in fact, did not do anything special. At the slightest hint of a problem, they rushed headlong to the ADA Agency, demanding support, but at the end of the assignment, they appropriated all the laurels. And in case of failure, it was always handed to the Agency.

An automatic glass door opened noiselessly for Darnell and Madeleine, letting them in. The spacious lobby, covered with gray carpet, was fairly empty. As Darnell made his way to the information desk, out of the corner of his eye, he saw only two, apparently, employees, chatting leisurely at the coffee machine. Like all inscribers, they wore white shirts with ties, tucked into classic trousers. And, of course, there was a constant haughty expression on their faces, as if they were the rulers of the universe and knew the foundations of the world itself. And as if they actually were not afraid to tear themselves away from books, so as not to immediately make some mistake and turn an elementary task into hell, into which Darnell had to get into from time to time. 

He snorted quietly at those two idlers to demonstrate his disdain and walked over to the information desk. Through the arched glass, Darnell could only see a ponytail of dark hair.

“Excuse me,” he tried to get the receptionist’s attention. The combed top of the head nodded, not looking up from some of her occupation, which was below the level of the window. “Can you tell me who I can turn to about memory vessels?”

The top of the head rose and a middle-aged woman stared at Darnell suspiciously.

“Who are you?” she asked rather rudely.

Darnell could hardly contain himself not to tell her something snarky in return. He rummaged in his shoulder bag and pulled out his Agency ID. He opened it, showing to the window, he answered:

“I am from the ADA Agency, I would like to clarify some details on one case.”

The woman looked discontentedly at the card, then at Darnell, and again at the card, as if comparing him to a photo glued into it. The man felt like he was trying to enter not a public institution, which he had already visited a hundred times, but a secret military base.

The receptionist had finally seen enough of the ID and pointed to Darnell at the far hallway.

“The tenth floor, Hilbert Winerson.”

“And what office?” Darnell dared to clarify.

“Look at the stand!” The woman snapped at him. “Whom is the information board hanging for?!”

She slammed the inner small door behind the glass in front of Darnell, with the word “break” on it. The man rolled his eyes, but he had to obey and go to the stand and start studying everyone who worked on the tenth floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Madeleine, who was messing around and made everything possible to make it clear that she was bored and sad in this house of bureaucracy.

“Oh, come on, this could not happen at this place” Darnell heard the voice of one of the employees, who were chilling near the coffee machine, and the man involuntarily started to listen to their conversation.

“I’m telling you it did. Three dead!”

Darnell tensed inwardly, not remembering the loss of life among the inscribers for at least the last ten years. Did some emergency happen that did not reach the Agency? The voice continued in semitones, which forced Darnell to listen more attentively. He stopped reading the stand to concentrate on that conversation.

“Some dude from the Agency came to the exam, he was so drunk that he could hardly stand on his feet…” Darnell heard and pursed his lips in irritation, realizing in horror that it was about him.

“I drank almost nothing, just to keep spirits up,” he muttered through clenched teeth, glaring at the information board, and not seeing what was written on it.

“ ... when he was told to summon a lower spirit of either the first or the second level, he could not even put two sentences together, and instead of a common harmless spirit, he summoned a creature unknown to people!”

"...a spirit just one level higher to show what I’m capable of," Darnell repeated after the narrator.

“It immediately left the summoning circle, because it was drawn not for it!”

“...I released it myself when the committee began to mock at me that I refused to carry out their stupid, senseless tasks point by point…”

“It rushed at the members of the committee and tore two of them to shreds, as well as the fool who summoned it!”

“…bit the most hulking hog, and right after that I dispersed it and left the place by myself,” Darnell almost hissed, remembering that day.

“Then we had to catch it all around the whole building till the very evening, but the best inscribers put each and every effort to finally drive him into a corner and destroy it!” finished the narrator.

Darnell suddenly felt a push in the thigh area, and involuntarily looked down.

"Oh… did I... speak out loud?" He blinked at Madeleine, returning from memories to the present. The girl nodded, confirming his guess. “Sorry. I didn’t expect my failed exam to become a legend overgrown with rumors up and down,” he grumbled to himself, focusing back on the information stand. “A spirit that killed me, what stupid nonsense. Come up with something wittier…”

He finally found the required number of the office he was interested in. Darnell called for Madeleine and went to the hallway that was previously shown to him. When he was passing by the doorway, he habitually looked around the protective barrier that stretched along its perimeter. Demons were strictly forbidden to go beyond the hall, and for this purpose all passages were blocked by runic spells. Darnell suddenly noticed that on the floor, a pair of runes were almost wiped and too pale, and the barrier could become passable for the demons at any moment.

“What a mess,” Darnell muttered through clenched teeth and looked around for at least someone “local” to point at this oversight.

To his great annoyance, two young people were still standing near the coffee machine, continuing their leisure conversation. Darnell walked towards them and, calling for all his patience and internal balance, said, pointing behind his back.

“Your protective runes have been erased in the passage. The barrier will soon collapse. Isn't it important for you to restrict the entry of demons?”

The two employees looked at each other in surprise. The taller one nodded.

“And who are you that you care about our affairs?”

Darnell gritted his teeth. Sometimes it seemed to him that the staff was being recruited here by being checked according to some special scale of haughtiness and arrogance. And especially impudence. The recruits probably even indicated “Boors wanted” in vacancies.

“I'm from the ADA Agency, I just decided that...”

“Show me your ID,” the second guy who was shorter interrupted him.

Darnell felt that he started boiling because of such impudence but still held out his ID to them. He already regretted that he came up to them, but if a demon had got into their building and entered some warehouse with forbidden paraphernalia, he would have been the first to call to take care of this, and the trouble will be really big. The inscribers threw away the empty coffee cups and, to Darnell's surprise, snatched the ID from his hand. While the short guy opened it and began to examine, the tall one took a marker from his pocket and went to restore the runes. Darnell waited impatiently for his ID to be admired enough.

“He really is “adope,” the one who was holding the ID told his partner. “Some Darnell O'Dell.”

“No way”, answered the partner and returned to the guy, looking over his shoulder and snatching the ID. “Well, it was he with whom Gordon recently knocked out a demon.”

“Oh, this one,” his partner replied thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’ve really heard that story,” he nodded, trying to look once again into the ID in the hands of the tall friend.

“Can I take my ID?” Darnell's eye twitched. These rats had no right to discuss him. Besides, this tadpole Gordon had nothing to do with dispersing a minion. The tall guy slammed the ID book and held it out to Darnell.

“I also heard that he is half-demon." The guy grinned mockingly at Darnell and turned to his comrade. “I bet you a 20 that he won't cross the restored barrier. It's surprising that he understands at least something in this at all.”

That was the last straw. Darnell snatched the ID from his hand and clenched it in his fist. He thought it would be nice to first wipe those crooked scribbles, which they proudly call a barrier, with their faces, and then force them to draw them over and over again and repeat the procedure until all their arrogance is gone and they learn to do their task, not rant.

Suddenly, someone touched his hand gently. Darnell winced at the sensation of a small hand carefully unclenching his fist and pulling out his ID. He looked down at Madeleine, who was handing him a crumpled book. He sighed and smiled, taking it back.

“Come,” he said to the girl, turning away, “before I hit them up for a 20, that their shirts are ironed by their mommies.”

He broke into a mocking smile as he heard indignant muttering behind him. Approaching the barrier, Darnell took a demonstrative wide step and stepped over it, heading down the hallway. After passing several turns, he reached an elevator. Fortunately, no one was heading to the tenth floor beside him and Madeleine, and they went inside together. As the door closed quietly, Darnell turned to the girl.

“Thank you for stopping me.”

Madeleine waved her hand at him, letting him understand that it was not worth the gratitude. The elevator took them to the required floor and made a melodic sound before opening the door. Employees scurried here and there along the hallway. Darnell walked past some ladies carrying piles of papers and folders with very serious faces, and men who looked at him and Madeleine with suspicion. Darnell looked out for the office number he needed, watching with one eye for the whirlwind of working bustle not to drag his little companion away from him.