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“Savannah, Brick, good to see you.” Their boss says.
“Sir.” They nod. “What do you need us for?”
“You know Cavendish and Dakota?” Their boss asks. They snigger.
“The failures? Of course we do.” Brick says. “What have they done now?”
“As you may know, I assigned them to the Jinx in an effort to give them some chance at success. And they did what they usually do, and failed.” Their boss explains.
“Of course they did.” Savannah says, smirking. “As per usual. I assume you need us to track down the escaped monster?”
“Not exactly. The monster was recaptured. But as Cavendish and Dakota have been disposed of, I need someone else to take over the care of this monster.” Their boss retrieves a file and slides it over the desk towards them.
“When you say disposed of, do you mean-“
“They were killed, yes. In front of the monster, which should hopefully decrease the amount of incidents.” He says casually. Savannah and Brick exchange a look. They never liked the men, but this seems harsh even for them… “The monster is extremely manipulative, but I don’t think I need to tell you that. You two are far too competent to be taken in by it. Just stay on your guard, keep it alive, and you’ll be transferred off of it pretty quickly. Dismissed!”
———
“I cannot believe we have been given Cavendish and Dakota’s leftovers.” Savannah snaps, folding her arms. “We have a perfect record working with the most dangerous monsters in this facility, and we’ve been demoted to Jinx Duty.”
“We just need to keep it contained for a bit, then some other failures will get it and we can get back to doing what we do best.” Brick vows.
“Everything.” Savannah agrees, smirking.
“You know us so well.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
“In your dreams.”
“That’s where you live.”
They lean in close, looking deeply into each other’s eyes… and then stop. “Yeah, still no chemistry.”
“Just doesn’t work at all.” Savannah agrees. “Now, the jinx.” She opens the file and frowns. “Have we been given the wrong file?”
“Why, what’s wrong?”
“Well, this is a child.” She turns it around to show her partner. Sure enough, the picture in the file is of a small boy, probably of age to attend middle school. “How could this require such a stringent containment procedure? How could this be so manipulative?” And why is it here in the first place? In a containment facility filled with weird, wonderful and dangerous monsters, why is there a child?
She turns the page and reads the rest of the description. “He- it is not kept contained due to it’s behaviour, but due to it’s affect on the world around it. It’s presence affects probability, greatly increasing the chances of things going drastically wrong.”
“Odd.” Brick also reads the description. “But that does explain the necessity of keeping it contained. And I am sure that it isn’t treated cruelly.”
“And it is described here as manipulative and skilled at using it’s appearance to trick others, which I am sure we will see once we meet it.”
———
The airlock system is incredibly frustrating, even though they understand the need. “How did Cavendish and Dakota manage to let it escape through all of this? Their ability to fail in any situation is honestly impressive.” Savannah remarks.
“Was. Was honestly impressive.” Brick reminds her. “They’re dead.”
“Oh, yes.” Savannah remembers. That is odd. She never got on with the pair, but they have been coworkers for years, it is very strange to think of them just being gone. And sure, it was their own faults, but… perhaps just firing them would’ve been better. She draws her thoughts away from the pair and back towards her work. “This is the last airlock.”
“Level six containment.” Brick whistles. “This jinx must affect probability very severely.”
———
The door slides open and they step into a huge room. The walls and floor are white, although dotted with various cracks and a lot of damage. In the centre of the room is a cage. Inside the cage is a small boy.
That is definitely the boy from the picture, the jinx. And he- it- looks, to be quite frank, like a wreck. It’s eyes are stained red and puffy, it looks as if it has been crying for hours. Days. Right now it isn’t crying, just sitting with his forehead resting against the bars of the cage. It looks up when the pair enter.
They exchange a look. A cage was unexpected. But the monster is supposed to have made several escape attempts in the past, so that makes sense. That doesn’t stop the strange feeling at seeing what looks like a child caged.
“Hi.” It says in a croaky voice. It really has been crying a lot, then. “You’re the new ones?”
“Yes. Savannah and Brick.” Savannah says professionally, studying the monster carefully. “You’re the jinx.”
“Yeah.” It says. The file noted that it might introduce itself by another name, but it doesn’t. It doesn’t say much at all, actually, just watches with sad brown eyes.
She removes the checklist from the file and begins going through it. Everything seems up to standards, so she ticks everything off with an annoyed expression. A toddler could do this. After all of her hard work and dedication, being assigned to this job is extremely frustrating.
At least the jinx is quiet. Almost too quiet, if her limited knowledge of children means anything. It just sits and watches her, silent as a mouse. Which makes things much easier. She keeps going down the list until she gets to the question on the cleanliness of the area outside the cage.
She looks around and sees a big, dark red stain a few metres from the cage. “Brick, call the cleaning team.” She says.
He does. “Yes, I- yes, sector 005- what? No, I am ordering- on whose instructions? Why- don’t you dare hang up on me!” He puts the phone back in his pocket with a furious expression. “They won’t come.”
“What?” Savannah spins around. “Why not?”
“Orders from higher up. That stain is to be left there as a ‘lesson’.” He crosses his arms. “They chose not to elaborate.”
“How frustrating.” Savannah sighs. “This assignment is proving troublesome. I can’t imagine how a gross stain could be a lesson to anyone.”
“That’s where they killed them.”
The boy’s voice startles both of them. They turn around to see it still sat on the floor of the cage, looking up at them. But it’s eyes keep being drawn down to the stain. “Cavendish and Dakota. That’s where they killed them. They want to leave it there so I won’t try and escape again.”
Savannah and Brick exchange a look. “Are you saying that they died here?”
“Yeah.” It mumbles, eyes caught by the stain.
Savannah and Brick turn away to look down at the clipboard. “I suppose we just leave it, then.” Savannah says. “If that’s the orders.”
She finishes the checklist, finding everything in order. And then they leave.
———
Milo sighs, slumping against the bars again. He didn’t expect another kind pair. And he didn’t want a pair like Cavendish and Dakota, who would try to break him out, and then… and then…
He doesn’t want to think about it, but he can’t stop. Those images are burned into his eyes, even when he closes them he can see them. Especially when he closes them. Especially when he sleeps, his nights are filled with screams and tears and those horrifying bangs and blood.
Guilt chokes him, guilt that he ever went along with it. They didn’t know, they didn’t understand, but he did. He knew that everyone failed before, he knew what happened to them, so how could he let Cavendish and Dakota try? They were so kind, and they died because of him.
He vows that he will never try and escape again. No one else is going to die because of him. He will sit in this cage and make the best of it, hold onto the memories of those people who cared about him, and he won’t ever try to escape again. He just wishes he had realised this before, and then maybe Cavendish and Dakota would still be alive.
Savannah and Brick aren’t kind at all, they are cold and professional. Not cruel, and they were clearly shocked by the cage and his youth and the blood. But they have a job to do, one they really don’t want to be doing, and that’s fine. He can cope with cold and professional, although it makes the absence of Cavendish and Dakota’s comforting warmth sting even more.
He wishes they would clean up that blood.
———
Brick and Savannah do their job the way they always do. Well. The checklist is always completed in record time, quick and efficient as anything. If something isn’t quite right, they have it fixed with just a click of the fingers. A week passes in monotony.
The job isn’t hard, but it irritates both of them to be stuck with it. After everything they have done for this organisation, they have basically been resigned to babysitting.
The jinx starts talking a bit more as the week goes on. It asks once what the most dangerous monster they have dealt with is. Savannah gives it an abridged version of the incident with that fire breathing, winged rhino a while back, and immediately the jinx jumps into a story about being chased by one. When surprise breaks through her mask, it laughs and simply says “Murphy’s Law”.
But they try not to encourage friendliness. They talk when they have to, to fill out the checklist. When it talks, they answer in clipped sentences, as short as they can make it. Getting friendly with this monster is in no one’s interests. Least of all the monster’s.
They can see that the monster is deeply, desperately lonely. The way it watches them as they go about their work, the way it jumps at the slightest amount of attention or communication. The monster acts, in many ways, like an average child of that age. Even though it isn’t one.
They can also see that the monster is frightened, and grieving, and has been badly affected by the death of their predecessors. That much is obvious. They were told that it feels no grief for any deaths caused either by it’s condition or by it’s manipulations, that it simply doesn’t feel bad.
That is so obviously wrong that Savannah would like to find whoever wrote these notes and wring their neck. There is no need to lie in these reports or notes, sometimes a monster may truly feel distress at being locked up, loneliness at the lack of interaction, even grief when it loses someone, and it needs to be kept contained anyway. If you work here and you can’t deal with the idea that a monster feels emotions, then you need to get a grip. That’s her opinion, so when she takes notes and writes reports she is careful to be absolutely honest. Lying would simply be doing things badly, and she is not incompetent.
It takes a whole week before something even remotely interesting happens. And they aren’t even in sector 005 when it does. They are in the break room, enjoying some drinks, when Brick’s radio buzzes. “Sir, ma’am, there’s been a J3.”
They immediately stand up and rush for the exit, heading for sector 005. A J3, that means some serious damage to the containment room. Nothing that would allow the jinx to escape, of course, that is a higher number and would result in an immediate lockdown. But they do need to get over there right away.
Once they get through the airlocks, of course.
They get through the airlocks with the usual crew and look around to assess the damage. It looks like part of the ceiling collapsed (Brick always thought that part looked iffy and apparently it had collapsed before), and landed on the cage. The monster is fine, lying a few steps away from the wreckage. Although Brick doubts it took any steps to get there, more likely it half crawled, half dragged itself. That leg does not look good, and there is a lot of blood on it’s arm.
“You lot, deal with that wreckage. You two get me the building crew as fast as possible, be snappy. Who has the medical kit?” Savannah is saying to the group.
“Ahem. Ma’am. The procedure with this monster is to provide medical care only if absolutely necessary to keep it alive.” The person holding the medical kit says. “Generally for injuries like that, it would be expected to handle them itself.”
Brick and Savannah exchange a baffled look, before looking back at the jinx. A blanket is wrapped around it’s arm, but blood is soaking through the thin fabric. It apparently hears the ‘first aider’, because it sighs and looks down. It doesn’t look surprised. It holds itself in a way that clearly shows how much pain it is in, and trying to keep the leg still.
“Can you explain to me how exactly it is to handle that amount of blood loss by itself?” Brick asks sceptically.
“It seems to have already done so, sir. A new blanket will be delivered soon to replace that one, as is procedure.”
“I can tell you just from looking that it’s leg is broken. How do you expect it to handle that?” Savannah asks.
“Keep it still. Medical care isn’t required as a broken leg is not fatal.” The first aider snorts. “And it isn’t using it’s leg for much anyway, is it?”
Savannah and Brick decide on what to do without even looking at each other. Savannah snatches the first aid kit away and starts marching over. “You want something done right, do it yourself…” She grumbles. “Right, jinx, let me see that arm first.”
It looks surprised, even as it gingerly holds out it’s arm. “Why are you helping me?” It asks, and is that hope shining in those big brown eyes?
She pulls the blanket off and takes out some sterile dressing, which she wraps tightly around the wound, pressing down to stem the bleeding. “I have a job to do.” She says. “And I do everything well. Leaving you injured would not be me doing my job well. So sit still and be quiet.”
It does sit still, and it does be quiet. She raises it’s arm over its head, and then she sits and waits.
Once the bleeding stops, she cleans and bandages the wound firmly before turning her attention to the leg. “Was this crushed under the rubble?”
“Oh, yeah. It’s not bad, though. You should’ve seen my foot when it got crushed under the rubble, a… some time ago.” It hesitates, apparently unsure of the passage of time. Understandably, with no way of tracking it.
She glances down at it’s, and winces. No wonder it hobbles everywhere, that did not heal properly in the least. Nothing to be done about it now, but she can deal with the leg. There is a wound, which she cleans promptly and bandages. The monster hardly flinches even though the wipes must really sting.
Remembering her first aid training, she splints the broken leg to the other with bandages. “You need to stay as still as possible. No moving.” She orders.
“Yes, ma’am.” He says. He is clearly in pain, but he looks surprisingly happy. At receiving basic first aid. “I have had worse!”
“I’m sure you have.” She rolls her eyes. “Rhinos and such.”
She rejoins Brick, who is ordering people around with military precision. He turns when she approaches. “We’re supposed to put it in the emergency cage.” He says, pointing at it.
She frowns. “It needs to keep that leg straight, it won’t be able to do that in there.” The emergency cage is far, far too cramped.
“That’s why I told them to put it away. We’ll just leave him out for a while- not like it’s going anywhere on that leg.” Brick says. “The new cage should be done soon enough, and work on the ceiling is beginning immediately.”
“Good.” She glances back at the boy. “I am going to bring in pain relief tomorrow.”
“Good call.” Brick agrees, both of them keeping their expressions and stances nothing but purely professional. “And I have decided to get them to clean up the blood while they are dealing with the rubble.”
“His blood?”
“No, the stain.”
“Ah.” Savannah hesitates briefly, then nods. “Yes, may as well. Since we have the crew in anyway.”
“Hygiene is important.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
They continue ordering the team around for a while, until the rubble is gone. “Right, let’s pack it in for the day. I need builders in tomorrow, 5am sharp.” Savannah calls out. “God, I cannot wait until we are transferred to a new job. If I wanted to deal with an injured child, I would be a doctor. Or a nurse. Or maybe a teacher. Not a monster keeper.”
———
Milo watches the bustle with interest. Brick and Savannah really can command a room. His leg is in agony, but the splint is really helping. He didn’t expect that from Savannah, didn’t expect her to break protocol to help him. Of course, she did it for purely professional reasons, but still. It almost, in a horribly twisted way, feels like being cared about.
If he thinks about that too much, he thinks about Cavendish and Dakota, those ghosts who permanently hang around over his shoulders. And then he thinks back a little farther, to his parents, his sister, his friends, and longing chokes him ten times more painfully than his broken leg. So he doesn’t let himself think about that. He can’t, he can’t. At least not until he is left alone to cry.
The workers in their visors and jumpsuits, so scary and impersonal, are clearing out now. Savannah and Brick usher them all out, then turn to leave themselves.
“Wait!” He feels the need to say. They turn to look at him. “Um. Thank you. For the first aid.”
“Just doing our jobs, monster.”
The airlock shuts and he sighs, allowing his head to press into the cold ground. They think he’s nothing but a monster who needs to be contained for the safety of all, and they clearly hate being the ones doing the containing. But he is grateful for their indifference. It is better than loathing.
———
“I do not understand the need-“ Brick begins once they are driving away. “-to refuse medical care. It is our job to contain monsters, not bully them. We should be keeping them in as good of a condition as possible, that is what we always do.”
“I’m sure they have their reasons.” Savannah says, although she feels a twinge of uncertainty. “Hopefully we will be transferred off of babysitting duty soon enough.”
“Yeah, I have bad news if you’re sick of babysitting.” Brick rolls his eyes. “Remember that internship program with Jefferson County Middle school?”
“Please don’t say-“
“Next week.”
“Oh, great.” Savannah rubs her head. “At least the monster is quiet. I do not want to deal with a pair of yappy children- especially if they decide to have opinions on the monster.”