At some point the running catches up to you. I just wanted a place to belong, and I suppose that is what I ended up getting. A place you cannot leave is the closest I shall ever get to a sense of belonging. At first, I found him to be some kind of welcoming. I was so grateful for the job and the money and the strangeness of it all. It was refreshing.
I never felt the Lonely was for me. My mom was so disappointed in me. Even now, I can imagine her judgmental glare. She would not have anything to say to me of course; it's the Lonely. I hate her with so many words that would drive her insane. She revels in silence. Anything else, and she will give you a look that might just kill you. I suppose she loved me at least a small bit. Love in the way you feel for something you want to grow. She wanted us to overtake the Lukas's. I hated all of them. I thought they were stupid. Unfortunately, marked as I am, escaping would be so hard.
I ran away. So what if I ran? I think the only thing that stopped my mom from searching for me in the beginning was that she mistook me for embracing it finally. I was almost happy for a week. The feeling passed, and I knew then that I needed to find a way to hide. What better way than under the shadow of a different entity?
He found me before I even considered it as an option. I knew I did not want any part of a few entities. I find the End to be absolutely boring, and the Slaughter and Desolation are just so unsophisticated. I would not say that I am squeamish, rather I do not find the point in it at all. I feel about the Stranger the way one feels about a classmate that accidentally insulted them once, and I am in fact prone to holding grudges. It is not that I dislike them, I simply cannot stand the idea of joining them. The Dark is too much like the reverse of Christianity for me if that makes any sense, and I must say that mainstream Christians give me such an unpleasant feeling. They were my main targets back when I was still sort of on the path to become the person my mother wanted me to be.
It wasn't hard to make a new name for myself. It is not like I was ever attached to the one my mother gave me. She hardly ever spoke it after all. No one ever did. One of the first things I did after I left was ponder that subject: a name. I had quite a bit of trouble coming up with any. I lacked that sense of belonging.
I was on the run. I traveled in silence for some time. It probably kept her off my tail. I just was on the run. I always found something to hate about every place I went. I was invisible. I became scared that I really was going to become what my mom wanted.
So there I was in London when one of those silly little red phone booths rang. It was ringing, and I just knew someone on the other end wanted me to pick up. There was no one else around. With nothing better to do, I picked up the phone. A voice started to speak, their accent was very, well English. I don't really know. I hung up immediately. A test of sorts. I did not have to wait long, for it began to ring almost as soon as I had ended the call. I picked it up after a few rings. How curious! I could not choose a fear, it seems one may have sought me out.
"What is this?"
"Ah. I am calling to offer you a job."
"I don't know who you are." A soft laugh. Everything about it was very controlled. The voice that spoke to me was prone to dramatics.
"Elias Bouchard, Head of The Magnus Institute. Why don't you come by? We can speak in person." The call ended. There was a decided shortness in his voice. He spoke with a mild irritation. He did not like me hanging up on him I suppose. That was when I made my decision. The Beholding was far from the worst I could find myself involved with. It was certainly less painful than other options. The real big ticket for me, however, is my mom would hate it. It really was such a perfect place for me to hide. She would never look for me there.
Speaking in person was not exactly what I expected. He invited me into his office, and a rosy-cheeked receptionist saw me in. He offered me a cup of tea. He was almost nice, and I say almost because there was so much about it that was not genuine. Always performing, always knowing.
He asked me how I was enjoying London. I told him the food could be better. I asked him what he would get out of my potential permanent employment.
He said he wanted me to take up a position in the Artefact Storage, and that he felt my experience would be well suited to managing some of the more dangerous artefacts, specifically the Leitner's. He wanted me to analyze them among other things. He wanted me to destroy Leitner's. I don't know how he expected me to. It seems rather an impossible task. I did not quite understand. I still do not, but it was a job. It was an escape. This was somewhere I could stay.
He continued, "We had someone move positions from Artefact Storage into the Archives, and I have been meaning to fill this position, but I just haven't. I needed the right person."
I glanced over the paper laid out before me, and I looked into his eyes. They looked back into me. "I'll do it."
He smiled, a genuine smile. I did not particularly care what his intentions were. We all do things for different reasons. This was what I needed.
I picked up the pen, staring at the paper. This was it. I needed a name. It was now or never.
He did not look away from me as I signed, his eyes lingered on my face. He did not look upon the paper. Of course not.
"Welcome to The Magnus Institute, Helen."
