Unemployed

By Becca

The most unique job interview anyone could ever have – and what sort of employer would take her?

Please R&R – but be kind – this is my first posting.

Removing my hat, I passed it and my cloak to the silent servant. Quickly I checked my hair and dress in the wall mirror – appearances were important, I knew, and this position… I didn't know the details yet, but from the preliminaries, I knew it could be the job. Finally, I nodded to the servant and stepped through as he opened the door. The room was lit only by several large candelabras that flickered slightly as I closed the door behind me. Huge vaulted ceilings disappeared into the darkness somewhere above me as I stepped into the shadowy room and smiled as I approached the panel. Three middle-aged wizards sat waiting patiently, glancing occasionally to the mountains of scrolls stacked haphazardly before them. A small desk and chair were placed before them and the lead investigator gestured to it politely.

"Ah, Miss Chappell, do sit down. We were just discussing your résumé… one or two minor points arose while looking over your work history…"

Arranging my skirts, I sat in the overstuffed chair and folded my carefully manicured hands delicately on the polished wooden table, glancing to the far end of the panel where someone stood deep in the shadows.

"Is there a problem, sir?" I asked curiously,

"Problem? No, no, indeed…" Smythe said quickly before coughing delicately. "Or rather, not exactly… We'd like to go over one or two points if we may?"

"Of course, sir." I nodded. "Go right ahead."

Jones shuffled his papers awkwardly as Smythe unrolled my scroll.

"Now, your range of expertise… the list here is rather vague… What is it exactly you have experience in?"

"Practically everything, sir." I smiled. "Some of my employers, while being amazingly creative and almost superhuman when it came to doing handstands at the edge of the mental catastrophe curve… well, I'm afraid some of them were unable to focus on the small things."

"Like?"

"Like putting their trousers on the right way around without a map and detailed instructions, sir. I took care of the day-to-day things, sir."

"Ah… alright…"

"It, er, also says here you recently left your last employer…"

"Yes, sir." I nodded to Jones. "At some speed, I'm afraid."

"Oh? And how was that?"

"Through the roof, sir."

There was a short pause before I clarified.

"There was a… storage problem with some of my employers' more volatile ingredients…"

"Ah…It also says he died shortly thereafter?"

"Yes, blood poisoning, I recall."

"Really?" Jones asked curiously. "Caused by what?"

"I believe it was the dirty pitchfork, sir." I shrugged. "Though it may have been the silver stake…"
There was a long pause as one or two of them glanced into the shadows for barely a microsecond.

"I…see…" Jones said slowly, glancing uncomfortably at my papers. "Still…marvellous references…"

"Thankyou sir." I nodded. "I try to provide full and satisfactory service."

Vernal finally spoke up.

"Er, I also note that you worked for Mad Baron Scrope…"

"Yes, sir, a brilliant man, sir, terrible shame about the mob, really…" I murmured. "A terrible mix-up. I believe they mistook him for Loony Linville Larson…"

"Whom you also worked for, I see." Smythe pointed out, consulting the paperwork.

"Yes sir." I nodded. "Would you believe he ran a kebab shop?"

"He did?" Jones asked curiously.

I winced.

"Not traditionally, sir, no…"

Another long moment of silence passed before Smythe coughed.

"And…er… about Mr Bludfnucker…"

"Yes sir?"

"Well…that is… wasn't he a…"

"Vampire, yes sir." I nodded. "Very peculiar about his sleeping habits."

"That's all you have to say?" Jones gasped. "It was a damn vampire!"

"Yes sir." I smiled. "It's part of the code, you see… I can't go around passing judgement on my employers, sir – I'd never get any work done."

"It doesn't bother you that he was a…" Jones asked.

"No sir. Treated me better than most, sir." I shrugged. "His personal quirks were none of my concern."

"I'm sorry? Personal quirks? The bastard murdered 22 people?" Vernal reminded me sharply.

"The investigating team said it was closer to forty, sir, once they finally cleared the rubble and got into the cellars underneath the castle..."

"Which, I understand was on fire at the time of your dismissal?" Smythe added, holding up a tattered, burnt and mildly bloodstained piece of paper.

"Mr Bludfnucker no longer required my services, sir." I shrugged.

"Oh?"

"He was in the castle when it collapsed sir." I informed them. "Although, to be honest, sir, I can't be absolutely sure, as I was at a dead run halfway down the hill at the time, sir. I'm loyal, sir, but not stupid." It was an intelligent person who kept an eye on events…and a packed bag near the secret exit. Just in case.

"Ah…indeed…"

Jones coughed and took up another line of inquiry.

"Though I did notice one official reprimand… it says here that while working for Lord Pederast, you struck him with a large onyx ashtray… Why was that?"

"The table lamp was too heavy sir." I shrugged. "And if I'd used the table itself, it could have killed him."

"I see…"

"Will that be all, sir?" I asked politely when no further questions seemed forthcoming.

"Er…not as such…" Jones admitted, glancing into the occupied darkness.

After a moment, I turned to the shadows and looked expectant.

Finally, the silent figure hidden in the shadows at the far end of the long bench stepped forward and I saw his face. He was beautiful – tall and lithe… His slim form was well dressed in black and silver, an exquisite snake-shaped clip holding his robe closed. Long blonde hair turned golden in the candlelight surrounded a sharp angular face…and his smile…

He looked at me as he raised his elaborately detailed silver-headed cane and grinned in delight.

"She'll do."