Chapter Text
“Where do you want me to start?”
“Start at the beginning.”
“Well, it started as a completely normal day to be honest. I woke up to the sound of the sunrise as usual, and spent the morning doing homework and helping my younger brother Diego with his before he headed off to the high school. After that, I did some work in the garden; tending to the succulents and the few vegetables I could keep alive in the overwhelming desert heat. Afterwards I made my usual walk to the college for a few classes and everything was fine. Like I said– it was perfectly normal . I didn’t even have any issues with our biweekly blood-stone circle ceremony for archaeology. It’s a tradition for my class to appease the gods of fear for looking into the past in hopes that they don’t take us in exchange for our sin. The past few times my offerings have been rejected, spat back at me like dirt beneath my feet; but this time everything went fine! At least, that’s what it seemed like.
“On my way back home was when it started to get weird. I was walking home from the college and had just passed the tall obsidian walls of the dog park when I got the feeling that I was being watched. And it wasn’t the normal way of being watched. I didn’t hear any helicopters or being followed by an unmarked van like the Sheriff's Secret Police would normally do. It was the kind where the air around you is crackling with anticipation. Like the entire town woke up just to see what’s about to happen.”
“Is that when you saw the door?” Elias’ interruption rips me back to reality and I blink at him in confusion.
He’s on the edge of his seat, absolutely entranced in my story not even considering keeping his fancyman composure. His golden eyes never leave my face as he nods at me, silently begging to continue.
“Yes- no- well, kind of?” I stammer. “Or- actually it makes more sense to say that it wasn’t there the first time I looked. It was just an empty lot with tumbleweeds and a teddy bear cholla. I had to duck my face to avoid looking directly at three hooded figures passing me; probably to go back to their home in the dog park.
“When I looked up, there was an old oak door with a brass handle attached to absolutely nothing. It shouldn’t have been able to stand up on its own yet there it was, fighting against the nature of physics. The hooded figures hadn’t moved like I thought. The three of them stood there, hovering above the ground and staring me down. Now, the mysterious hooded figures do not have a face, but the vacant holes where it should be swallowed up my entire being. It’s all I could see- it was all I could feel. The black holes sucked me in and dragged me towards the door. My hand closed around the brass knob against my will. I didn’t hear the handle turn. I didn’t hear the door open. I just felt my heavy steps drag forward into the swirling abyss and let it consume me.
“It shouldn’t have opened up to anything, yet I found myself in a hallway. I could feel the panic creeping up and I turned to leave, but the door was gone. I was alone. I don’t know how long I stood there, staring at the empty wall. The blank, musty, yellowed wallpaper mocking me in my confusion. It made me sick to my stomach. The dirt molded into the carpet seeping into my sandals. The constant ringing in my ears made me feel sick. This-this wherever the fuck I was, gave me a pit in my stomach and I had to get out. I turned around and marched down the hallway, ignoring the doors lining the walls.
"I figured if I just kept walking, I'd be able to find the end eventually. If you could guess, I didn't find an end. It just stretched on endlessly. I felt like l I was walking circles but I didn't make any turns or even branched off to another hall although I had plenty of opportunities to do so. After what seemed like hours I-" I take a breath, trying to collect my thoughts, but if anything it made things worse. The ringing in my ears starts again, and the lights start flickering rapidly.
"Carmen, what did you do next? What happened in that hallway?" Elias' eyes glow electric yellow, I can't do anything except return his gaze.
"I gave up. I plopped down against the wall and cried. I was trying to accept this is where I would be for the rest of my life. I don't know how long I was like that, wallowing in self pity of my rapidly approaching death; but when the tears stopped coming I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. There, on the door was a small glyph of an eye scratched into the corner of the door across from where I was sitting.
"Something told me to go through that door. I don't know how, but I knew if I didn't go through that door I would die. Die faster at least, we're always on an endless march to our inevitable doom and I really didn't want to cut that march short. Slowly, I approached the door, holding my maxi skirt up in case I had to start running. I opened the door and peered into the room. I was looking into a swirling blue and purple abyss and before I could think otherwise I was already walking inside.
"The door snapped shut behind me and immediately massive walls burst out of the ground and tower over me. The-the walls- they were all pitch black obsidian exactly like the dog park. Exactly like where my mamá disappeared when I was just a kid." I choke back a sob, my voice raising an octave to try to keep the crying at bay. Emotions are swarming my brain and nearly overwhelming me, but I keep talking. I have to keep talking.
"I tried to scream,but nothing would come out. I just stood there staring at the fucking walls. I-I couldn’t move. Until I heard the door creak open once more and a distorted voice echoed towards me. ‘ I know you’re out here somewhere, there’s no point in hiding.’ Whatever it was laughed. At least, I think it was a laugh, but it hurt my head and the noise pierced into my skull. I took off running as fast as I could, turning down different pathways without any thought of where I was going. Left. Right. Right. Right. Left. Anywhere to get away from whatever was behind me.
I don’t know how long I ran, but I know it wasn’t fast enough. My stomach was growling, and my legs were growing tired; but that thing still followed me. It didn’t seem to get tired, but I was running out of steam fast. One turn and I almost missed it– another eye on the opposite wall! I started backtracking to follow it and turned down that corner instead. A little further along was another– and another! They were leading me somewhere and I hoped it was to safety. The beast kept getting closer, and a few times I even felt long spines brush against my back. Then I saw the door. It was also an old oak door with a brass handle, except there was a massive eye carved into the center. I didn’t know where it would lead, but it was an out, and I was so close. The adrenaline I felt in that moment was like nothing I’d ever experienced before and I burst through that door and well- I ended up in that dusty room and the door disappeared behind me."
Elias leans back in his chair as I wipe tears from my eyes, seemingly satisfied with what I've told him. "Is there anything else you'd like to share about your experience?"
This question doesn't force me into talking like the others did. Retelling everything pulled me out of my shock and I'm left even more shaken and…itchy? My entire left arm up to my neck is insanely itchy.
"Is there any way you can get me home?" I ask, but I think I already know the answer.
He sighs and shakes his head slightly, "Unfortunately, I don't believe there is. The entity that creates those doors -the Spiral- is a curious one and often doesn't willingly allow anyone through the same one twice."
I nod and slump down in my seat, absently itching at my arm. Of course it had to be The Distortion. I don't know as much about it, but I do know that I'm lucky to even be alive right now.
"Worry not. I'll personally see to it that the Institute helps get you settled in Central London and we will look into your situation to get you home."
That honestly makes me feel worlds better. The head of this place is actually going to do something to help? Maybe this place isn't a capitalist hellscape like America is.
"Thank you, sir." I fight back the urge to vomit at calling someone that, but I really need to suck up. He's doing me a massive favor. "That really means a lot."
Elias tilts his head and stares at the place I'm itching on my neck, "Fascinating."
Immediately feeling self conscious, I drop my hands and twist them nervously in my lap. "...What?"
"What's that on your neck there?" He asks.
Oh my unforgiving gods do I have a hickey? Is he really calling me out about a hickey right now? My hand immediately flies to the pocket of my skirt and pulls out my compact. It is in fact not a hickey, but a tattoo of a dark purple tentacle creeping up the side of my neck that I definitely did not have 5 minutes ago.
"I- what the fuck is that?!" I pull at the sides of my sweater to try to get a better look. As far as I can tell it just keeps going further down my shoulder towards my arm.
Elias stands up and gestures to my problem area, "May I?"
Unsure of what else to do I nod. He swiftly moves over to me and leans down to get a closer look. His eyes etch their way through every part of the sunrise tattoo he can see before he finally acknowledges me again.
"You've not always had this, have you?" he asks.
I shake my head, "The only tattoo I have is a cherry blossom on my ankle."
"Interesting," he muses. "Does it hurt?"
"It's just itchy." At the mention of it I start scratching at my arm again. "Like my whole arm is. It's weird and- and not the normal kind of weird."
"Can you take off your jumper?" Elias asks, his eyes scanning down my covered arm.
I turn red and then immediately remember I am in fact wearing a tank top under. He quirks his eyebrow at me and I try desperately to distract myself by pulling off my college sweater. I look down at my arm and I'm completely taken aback by what the fuck is happening there. A massive sleeve tattoo has erupted on my arm glyphs tentacles in purples, blacks, and whites cover nearly every inch; but what stands out most is the massive unblinking eye staring forward on my outer bicep.
I want to scream and rub at it frantically to make it go away, but all I can muster is a quiet, "Oh my gods."
"Well. That's new." Elias says simply. He looks surprised, and like he wants to say a million other things, but much like me he's rendered nearly speechless.
I turn my arm to try to get as many angles of this crazy thing as I can. It stops halfway up my neck as far as I can see, and stops at the end of my shoulder and my wrist. I try to ask the Avatar something, anything , because he would know far better than me, but I can't even get a coherent thought out.
"Carmen, I don't wish to alarm you, but it appears you've been marked rather obviously by The Beholding."
Yeah, no, that's extremely alarming. "What does that mean?!" I sputter. "Mr. Bouchard, am I going to be okay?!"
I'm trying not to freak out, but I'm definitely freaking out. I can't comprehend how this situation could get any worse. And then it does. The large eye on my bicep blinks. It actually blinks and the pupil moves to focus on Elias.
He looks over the eye in pure wonder and smiles. "Mx. Gonzáles, I think you're going to be just fine."
He rolls up his left sleeve and shows me an intricate gold and black tattoo on his forearm covered in eyes. It's in a similar style to mine, but more regal in a way? Instead of swirling patterns and tentacles it's more rigid -set in stone- and I'd say even Victorian gothic.
"The Beholding really gave that to you?"
"As my abilities developed, so too did the mark it gave me."
"What sort of abilities? Or- Or am I not supposed to ask those questions?" I glance nervously at the tattoo, half expecting it to choke me out from the confines of my skin.
"Don't worry Ms. Gonzáles. While I can't answer your question directly, you do not have to shy away from asking them. Pursuit of knowledge here is encouraged, not condemned." He answers, rolling his sleeve back down and returning to his seat.
I blink at him for several seconds. He doesn't start laughing. I don't think he's joking. "That's…definitely something I've never heard before. We were actively discouraged from it."
"You'll find it is much the contrary here. Do not be afraid to ask questions, just know that you may not receive answers that make sense."
I slip my sweater back on and rub the tattooed arm. "Thank you for everything; this is all so terrifying so- thank you for being understanding."
Elias smiles at me, "It's no trouble at all. I can understand this situation is extremely stressful for you and I'd like to help in any way I'm able." There's an excited glint in his eyes that betrays the heartfelt sympathy he's trying to portray.
Wait. Why are his eyes gray? Weren't they gold before? I distinctly remember them being gold. Oh fuck I'm staring at him aren't I.
I awkwardly cough and slump in my seat a little, hoping my face isn't as red as it feels. "Stressful is an understatement."
If he notices me unromantically losing myself in his eyes he doesn't comment on it. Instead he just asks, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
I shake my head. "Did you hear everything you need for your recorder?"
"Yes, thank you," and with that he turns off the tape recorder and stands up.
Please mysterious sexy capitalist guy don't leave me in here alone! I practically jump up from my chair, planning to follow him wherever he is going to go. He quirks an eyebrow at me, but doesn't say anything. Quick, think of something!
"So-so uh- where exactly do we go from here? I mean- I'm kind of stuck here now from what you said."
"Well, since your case is going to be investigated by the Institute-" he says as he leads me out the door of the office. "-and your living arrangements are nonexistent at the moment; the Institute will provide housing."
Does that mean I'm going to be sleeping in this place? Do they even have showers? Or a bed? Instead of asking for any clarification like I should I just nod and thank him. I mean, what else can I do?
Elias leads me through the archive, I can tell he doesn't come down here near as often as Jon. As he's navigating the maze of desks and clutter I can hear him mutter under his breath about mess and disorder. I think I even hear a “bloody” in there like a true brit.
As we walk up to the door to leave he turns to me one more time. "Is there anything else I personally can do for you?"
I shake my head, "No, I don't think so. Thank you again."
"Not a problem," he gives me a brief smile. "If you'd like, I could get someone to take you to one of the offices on the third floor to have housing arrangements arranged for you.”
“I’d really appreciate it.”
Elias instructs me to stay out while he walks back through the mess to find someone for me. While he's gone, I take a chance to really look around. Every desk has its own personality to it. There's a desk with a few mugs scattered on the edges with reminder sticky notes pasted around the edge and even on the screen of the old computer placed in the middle. I glance around the room to make sure no one's there and peek into the drawers. Nothing really of note besides a little drawer filled with fidget toys and a journal I decide is probably too private for me to see.
The desk next to it is organized with a planner and a calendar placed neatly next to a laptop covered in cute animal and aesthetic stickers. The drawers are full of office supplies, an extremely well stocked spice drawer and knitting supplies.
I wander over to another group of desks, immediately taking interest in one with a laptop with a massive sticker that says "FUCK" with several memes scattered on it. The rest of the desk is a scatter of papers with cute doodles in the margins and a hydro-flask covered in stickers that look to all be from different countries. Right as I'm about to open the top drawer I hear a throat being cleared behind me. I whirl around as fast as I can, my skirt knocking off several papers from the desk.
Elias is standing there with a man in a neon yellow button up shirt covered in hot dogs and actual dogs. Great! How long have they been standing there! I can feel my face burning. I start to fumble my way through a probably extremely lame reason as to why I'm snooping in random desks, but Elias just holds his hand up and interrupts me.
"Mx. Gonzáles, I'd like you to meet Timothy Stoker."