Dear Claudia,
I'm sorry you're dead. Wait. That's kind of a harsh way to start this whole thing. Let me try again.
Dear Claudia,
That really sucks that you read one of Hitchcock's original script and got pecked to death by birds. Actually, that's an even worse way to start this. One more time.
Dear Claudia,
I wish I could have met you. There we go.
I wish I could have met you. From what I've heard, it sounds like you were a really cool girl. But even if you were alive now, we still never would have met since I'm only here because of what happened to you. I'm your replacement.
My name's Ellie Shaw, I'm 23 years old, and I'm a genius. Not as smart as you, by all accounts, but my IQ is a good 70 points above average. I'm bright enough to land myself your job, anyway. Tech wiz of Warehouse 13. And I don't think I'm quite ready to address the reality of that yet. I'm working in a carnival funhouse filled with magical, killer objects? Well, I guess they aren't all killers, since Pavlov's Bell just makes you drool. But a lot of them are killers. And if that isn't terrifying enough, I'm expected to sort through them and label them and catalogue them. And occasionally go chasing after them when they're out wreaking havoc in the world. So yeah, I'm operating on two Advil and three cans of Redbull right now as I try to wrap my head around this. Maybe that's why I'm writing to you.
Mrs. Frederick picked me up. And by that, I mean she apparated into my living room and invited me on a journey to wonder and adventure. Creepy much? But apparently that's how she always is. She sent me to a B&B and promised that I would meet my team members in the morning. I already met Leena, though. She had a plate of cookies waiting for me, so I'm thinking we're going to get along. She was weird too, telling me that I had a good aura. Is everyone here that odd? I hope not, since that would probably mean I'm that odd as well.
Mrs. F didn't mention you to me, by the way. Maybe she thought that knowing my predecessor was killed on the job would scare me away. I'd like to think she was right, but probably I'd have come anyways. All I'll say about that is that I needed a change and this was up my alley. But anyways, Leena was the one who told me about you. Showed me a picture, too. You were pretty. Wish I looked more like you and less like me.
Leena warned me that it might take a little while for the others to warm up to me. "Everyone loved Claudia," she told me. "Everyone thought it was their job to protect her." I guess they did a pretty crappy job of it. No, I don't mean that. Sorry. I promise to work on the 'snide' thing. But really, I won't judge them until I meet them. After all, they must have balls of steel to work in a place like this.
One more thing. HG Wells. The HG Wells? Seriously? That's the coolest thing I've heard, like, ever. I read all of his, I mean her, books when I was younger. I cannot wait to meet her. Still not clear on how she's still alive, but hopefully that'll get explained sooner or later. If Leena'd given me too much more explanation, my brain might have started trickling out of my ears.
So to recap: wish I'd met you, terrified to be here, wondering just how weird I am to have been hired at Warehouse 13.
Oh, and I really am sorry you're dead. That sounds sarcastic, but it's not. 108 people die every minute, and somehow, each death still manages to be a tragedy. That's what keeps us human.
Cheers,
Ellie
I couldn't even tell you where this idea came from. It's fun and relatively easy to write, so updates will be frequent. Please review! :)