"Helen, I am pretty sure this is unconstitutional," Tim's voice cuts through the tense atmosphere, his brow knit in concern, his eyes narrow.
I tear my attention away from the stack of statements I am prepping. "Are you talking about the face mask? I don't think these things care about the uh constitution," I say, tracing the edge of a worn-out pen with my fingers.
"No, I mean your handwriting is awful," Tim clarifies with a gesture to my scrawled notes.
"Yeah, it is pretty bad," I admit with a dry laugh. "That's why I type up my final reports. I have fairly shaky hands." I pause, gaze drifting to the towering stacks of paperwork, "I mean I also just don't have the time to do all this, Tim. Can't you just figure it out?" I worry that I am being a bit short with him, but I can feel my heart picking up pace, and I have to calm down. I have to push it back. I'm trying to figure out Jon's shit and Elias and-this is so much fucking work! A sigh escapes me as I adjust the tape recorder. Anything to keep my hands busy.
"It's fine, I'll try to figure things out," Tim assures, his tone lower than before, "but can you give me some answers if I need them? I know you're busy."
"Thank you, Tim, I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't have so much on my plate right now."
"Yeah, it's on par with something Jon would ask me to do anyway," Tim remarks wryly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "He loves giving out stupid tasks."
As the conversation winds down, the weight of our respective tasks weigh heavy on our minds. I glance at my notes and papers scattered around Tim. Some are not even paper; one is written in sharpie on a paper towel in scrawny twisted letters. There is a paper menu from a restaurant, and one on the back of a receipt from a coffee run I made. I wasn't intentionally trying to be disorganized, but I have taken a lot of work beyond the office so to speak. Sometimes the need to continue my notations comes out of nowhere when I am out. Perhaps not nowhere, but still. I know that I do derive some sense of self-worth from the work that I do, but I have also found that it helps ground me. I have been struggling with panic attacks every now and then, and it helps. It unfortunately does not help the state of my handwriting, however.
Tim has been tasked with going through my notes in the early stages of reports I am working on. There are so many objects, and I just cannot get to them fast enough. I've just asked him to decipher and refine my scribbles, bring some clarity and detail to them to help me in my report drafting later. I am also curious to see his own added interpretation and spin on things because my only influence beyond myself has been Elias.
Okay, it may be a bit of a daunting task. Ah, Tim will be able to figure it out:
[Fountain Pen]
Web, Dark
Anomalous fountain pen
Ink seemingly stays wet indefinitely
No signs of drying or absorption
Increased anxiety and insomnia after using.
Ink bleeds more than it should
This pen is a nightmare – literally. Who needs sleep anyway? Ink that stays wet forever, inducing anxiety and insomnia. Perfect for those who enjoy a perpetual state of panic.
[Face Mask]
Buried
Resembles standard face mask
Waterboards users
Recurring nightmares post-use
High aversion observed; subjects unwilling to wear after initial exposure.
Who thought this was a good idea? A face mask that gives you a drowning sensation. Utterly sadistic. Guaranteed to haunt your dreams. I'd rather pass.
[Glasses]
Distortion, Eye
Glasses with hallucinatory effects.
Users experience distorted visions/perceive unreal entities
Reports of heightened paranoia and anxiety
Artifact confiscated after inducing severe panic attack in co-worker (that was an accident)
Want to question your sanity? Just put on these glasses. Watch as your reality warps and bends. Ideal for a trip down the rabbit hole, or just straight to therapy.
[Makeup Compact]
Stranger, Flesh
Mirror reflects apparition behind the user
Accounts of ghostly figures
Causes psychological distress
Body dysmorphia
Self-harm
Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who's the most disturbed of them all? Oh wait, it's you! This compact's special feature: a creepy companion always standing behind you. How charming!
[Spatula]
Flesh
Spatula prevents cooking–meat stays raw
Unexplained resistance to heat
Experimentation ongoing
Cooking enthusiasts, beware! This spatula has a rebellious streak – refuses to cook meat. Raw, uncooked meals for all! A culinary disaster waiting to happen.
[Elevator Button]
Lonely
Button appears in elevator
Only goes up
Reported difficulty in returning
Incidents of stair-related injuries
Unexpected descent after failed attempts
Need a lift? Well, not in this elevator. Going up is easy; coming down? Not so much. Take the stairs, they said. Falling down a flight is just a minor inconvenience.
[Water Bottle]
Corruption
Water bottle induces severe illness
Contaminant unidentified
Caution when handling
Thirsty? Take a sip from this bottle of regret. It'll make you sicker than a week-old sandwich left in the sun. Hydration has never been so hazardous.
[Typewriter]
Vast
Typewriter compels continuous typing
Users unable to stop typing
Psychological strain documented; artifact currently sealed.
Typewriters are supposed to take a break, right? Not this one. Endless typing, no respite. Say goodbye to your sanity and hello to a lifetime of keystrokes.
[Ring]
Buried, End
Ring binds to wearer
Removal attempts result in significant harm
Extreme measures required
Including amputation
Looking for a ring that won't let go? You've found it. It's a commitment, literally. Can't take it off without losing a finger. Love hurts, but this is a whole new level.
[Rug]
Corruption
Rug infested with microscopic bugs
Not easily visible
Gnats reported
Anomalous effects on well-being when near
Bug enthusiasts, rejoice! This rug comes with its own tiny ecosystem. Gnats and microscopic critters included. Perfect for those who like a side of creepy crawlies with their decor.
[Record Player]
Slaughter
Record player induces aggressive behavior
Incidents of violence reported
Research halted due to safety concerns.
Vinyl lovers beware! This record player turns peaceful melodies into violent symphonies. Music to punch people by. Not recommended for dinner parties.
A squeak breaks my focus; the sound of Tim sinking back into his chair, relieved. He inquires, "How often do you get real things like this?" His curiosity sits on the tip of his tongue.
"Tim, I only deal with the real stuff."
"Really," Tim says with that bitter but humorous tone he is partial to.
"Only one down there that can get through 'em as well as I do!"
"Helen, I am sorry, but I am having so much trouble with this one, can I borrow you for a sec?"
"Yeah, sure!" I adjust my papers, and flag a sticky note over where I left off. "You've got me at a good stopping point anyway."
As I am approaching Tim and the chaos surrounding him, someone lets themself in. The door creaks open and someone with a nasally and high voice that prickles in my ears asks, "Hey, I'm here to leave a statement!"
"Give me a moment, I'm busy." Tim wiggles his eyebrows at me, glancing behind me and mouthing something as he passes me the paper. "Right! So this one is the uh elevator button one, so basically–"
"Excuse me. How long do you think you will be, it's just I really–
"Excuse you." I do not even turn to look at them, "You're interrupting me. I will be with you in a moment." I cannot do this. I can't. I am going to scream. I hate people. What gives you the right to speak to me like that? You probably don't even have a statement worth taking.
Tim bares his teeth in an awkward smile in my direction. "Where were we?"
"So, I think I follow I was just confused actually." I hear the floor creak for a moment as they pass over the area with a loose board, sitting themselves across from my desk with more creaks than necessary. Perhaps, I am exaggerating.
"On which part?"
"How do we know about the button? Is it through a statement? If it randomly shows up and moves around, how do we have it?" Foot tapping, heel tapping–awful clacking against the legs of the chair and the floor.
"Oh, we don't have it anymore," I tell Tim. The tapping is grating against my bones.
"We don't?"
"No, appeared in a new elevator, I guess," my reply is terse, my frustration boiling below the surface. Tim offers me an uncomfortable smile, his nose scrunching.
"Sounds about right," Tim mutters, retreating with a bitter laugh. "Sorry for bothering you. I think I'm gonna get some air."
"It's really not a problem, Tim, thank you so much for your help."
Turning to face the lingering visitor, I fix them with a steely gaze. "That was quite rude of you."
"Rude of you to keep me waiting." I refuse to dignify that retort with a response.
I settle back into my spot, and grab the tape recorder. I notice them eyeing my papers, so I flip over my notes. "Name and what is this regarding, please?" I have some decency in me.
"Someone keeps eating my food, and I live alone and–" I discovered I in fact do not have that decent in me. I didn't even let them finish, sending them away into nothingness. I can't put up with this today. I didn't even remember to start the tape. To be fair, I had expected it to start on its own, and it hadn't. You come in when you could have left a written statement and have the gall to interrupt me over something so trivial. I'll give you something to write home about.
Tim returns. "So what was their statement about?"
"They had a stray cat that got in, thought it was a ghost."
"You handled it well at least." Tim says with a shiver, "Does it seem a bit drafty in here to you?"
