Kickstart My Witch

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Kickstart My Witch Page 3

by Lotta Smith


  “Hi, there! How may I help you?” One of the super pretty women with long silky blonde hair and the most beautiful violet eyes I’d ever seen flashed me a warm smile. Her front teeth were pearly white, and her complexion was so smooth. I knew it was inappropriate to touch a total stranger’s body, and I didn’t do that, but I was slightly tempted to feel her plump lips just to test the smoothness of them.

  “Hi! I’m Fiorentina Valentine. I have an appointment for an aptitude test at four p.m. today,” I replied, offering her the invitation letter and the brightest smile I could muster.

  “Sure. Let me see.” She took the letter and took a look at it. As she looked down, her silky blonde hair cascaded, and I thought I could have made a super sexy music video just out of this scene alone. Seriously, I’d never seen such a beautiful human being. I wondered if she came from one of those model agencies. All the receptionists were photogenic, but she was extra pretty. If I were a testosterone-driven guy, I’d be able to watch her all day.

  But the moment she realized what was written in the letter, a flicker of disgust cracked her perfect, flawless beauty.

  I felt my heart beating faster. My first impression about her was she’d stand still without twitching her eyebrows even if someone started firing an AK-47 in the area, but she was frowning and groaning as if she’d just witnessed something horribly gross.

  She took a deep breath and looked at me. “So, Ms. Valentine, let me take you to your destination.”

  “Oh…sure.” I nodded like a bobblehead. In my previous visits, the receptionists I’d met always gave me instructions on which elevator to take and what floor to go to, and I was on my own. Still, I added, “Thank you so much.”

  She gave me a curt nod as she stood from the reception desk. When she stood next to me, I realized she was taller than my five-foot-four-inch height by many inches, and I couldn’t help admiring her up close. I was envious of her, of course. I was going to live on my own if I were to actually start working for this company. I had a hunch that, when living on your own, having extra height would come in handy at times when I wanted to reach stuff stored in the upper shelves and needed to change light bulbs.

  Light bulbs were tricky. They tended to snap and die at the worst possible moments, and for some reason I couldn’t quite fathom, we Valentines had been stuck with light bulbs with extremely short life expectancy. LED lights were the worst. They were a lot pricier than the regular light bulbs, but they lasted even less time. This and the blue lights were why we gave up on LED lights. Eco-friendliness was so overrated.

  In the meantime, while I toyed with my complaints on the new products for illumination, she strutted in the atrium hall with rhythmical clicks as her four-inch heels hit the granite floor. When we reached the elevator hall, she hit the down button.

  My eyes widened. We were on the ground floor, and any floors below the level were underground. It was my first time to go down. So far, I had visited the upper floors like the thirty-first floor for the previous rounds of interviews, and honestly, every time I took the futuristic elevator covered by glass, I felt super uplifted and excited. The feeling resembled that of riding a bunch of escalators of Space Mountain at Disney Land.

  I realized that I had no idea that underground floors ever existed in this building in the first place. Another odd thing was that just one elevator in the corner out of seven went down.

  “I’m visiting the underground floor for the first time,” I said, hoping for some small talk with my beautiful guide.

  “Yes. We have one office down there,” she replied, sporting her perfect, flawless smile she offered me when I met her for the first time.

  “Oh, just one office. It must be a large section,” I commented, but she didn’t say anything, and she seemed to be pretending that she didn’t hear me.

  Suddenly, I felt a heaviness in the pit of my stomach. I was nervous. First of all, not many sections needed a guide to visit there in the first place. I might be a visitor from outside of the company, but it wasn’t like I was visiting a maze. The office I was supposed to visit could be located somewhere hard to find, but it was located in the headquarters building of a leading real estate company. I couldn’t imagine such a company would plan to make anything hard to find—unless whoever designed the building wanted to hide something.

  While I rode the elevator with the receptionist in silence, the elevator went down. It stopped with the same sound as it made when it stopped at other floors, and the door opened.

  The basement floor was practically deserted, and I felt like I’d wandered into someplace else—like the subway station after operating hours. Whenever I’d visited the upper floors, I saw good-looking people in stylish attires passing by, carrying edgy laptops, chatting, and smiling with their colleagues.

  Everything was different in the basement. It was lacking the energetic vibes of successful urban professionals. Even the air felt damp and stale. I looked at the receptionist, and then she looked at me. I suspected that less photogenic people, like yours truly, were assigned the basement office. Both the floor and the walls were a depressing greenish gray that I often called zombie gray. Not that I’d seen a zombie before, and I didn’t plan to see one in my life.

  Heavy beige metal doors lined the zombie gray walls, and each was numbered, and none had a window. I felt like I was channeling Clarice Starling walking the corridor of a maximum-security prison to meet Hannibal Lector. Except, I wasn’t an ace student at the FBI’s academy in Quantico, and I hadn’t even visited Quantico. Instinctively, I kept casting glances at the doors to see no monster was bursting out of them. My heart was making pitter-patter noises like the ones I had when I was heading for the bathroom in the middle of the night after reading an extra scary horror novel. At such times, I’d be on alert for any signs of ghosts and monsters, but at the same time, there wouldn’t be much I could do to fight them if I’d actually encountered them.

  “They are reference rooms. All of them,” the receptionist said abruptly.

  I jumped a little. I realized I had my hands positioned in a faux kung fu way. I hadn’t figured it out, but whenever I was on alert for scariness, my hands always ended up in this position. “I see. No UV light reaches here, and it’s easier to keep the humidity at a certain level in the basement. I think it’s an ideal location for that purpose,” I babbled. “By the way, where are we headed?”

  “This is the place for the aptitude test.” She stopped in front of the door at the end of the corridor.

  “Oh… Okay—” I furrowed my eyebrows as I stood next to her, looking at another metal door.

  And then she was scurrying her way back without giving me a chance to pepper her with questions.

  “Excuse me?” I called to her back, but she didn’t even bother to look back at me.

  Oh my God. She just ignored me, leaving me here in the dampest corner of the building.

  I turned back, facing the door. Maybe I might have glared at it a little.

  There was no sign on the door. If it were a fantasy novel or movie, the door would start sparkling or glittering, and I’d be brought to a new world full of magic, wonder, and excitement. Still, it was my life and not Harry Potter or its spin-offs. No letter appeared on the cold-looking metal door, and no such fairy like Tinker Bell popped up.

  If it was really an aptitude test, someone should be behind the door. Besides that, I wasn’t a part of this company yet, so they might be concerned about information leakage and so on, and that could have been the reason that I was taken to such a strange location.

  I took a deep breath, collecting myself to knock on the door. I’d read somewhere that the first impression was super important and people often judged others in the first four seconds of their encounter with others.

  The door burst open.

  CHAPTER 4

  “Holy craaap!” I jumped, shrieking.

  At this point, I’d completely forgotten about being evaluated, judged, and everything else. All I wanted w
as to get the hell out of here, dodging whatever attacks from the monsters and, hopefully, live happily ever after.

  When a hand came out of the door and clasped my wrist, I was half-glad and half-doomed. I was glad for regaining my balance, thanks to the arm, but at the same time, I was extra scared by the hand. I knew it belonged to a monster, and I knew my faux kung fu moves were worthless in front of real zombies and predators. Perhaps, my moves could have been useless even with an amateur mugger.

  I was too freaked out to realize that I was familiar with the temperature and the touch of the hand that held my wrist.

  “You’re late.”

  “I’m sorry for being la—” I stopped short when I realized the identity of the hand’s owner. Shaking his head with a hint of a lopsided grin at the corners of his lips, he let my hand go. “Oh my God! It’s you! Jack Adams!”

  “I didn’t know we were already on first-name basis.” He snorted.

  “I mean Mr. Adams!” I added, attempting for a recovery—except I didn’t know what I tried to compensate. In my head, the memory labeled “My Worst Nightmare” was playing on an endless loop. I’d been doing my best to leave the memory of getting almost killed by a weird guy from the interview whom I wasn’t supposed to recognize, but even the scariest scene was repeating.

  I shut my eyes, hoping it was just another bad dream and everything would be fine when I woke up.

  “So, you actually came here.” His voice dragged me back to reality. “I suspected you had run away.”

  I opened my eyes. He held the door open with one hand and indicated inside with his chin, eyeing me to come inside.

  Oh my God… It’s like the worst-ever movie scoring a bunch of Razzies striking back with a sequel.

  “Hey,” he called to me, so I stepped inside.

  If I said I wasn’t afraid, I’d burn in hell for lying. Inside was a spacious room about the size of a typical classroom at school. Other than the desk sitting at the corner, the room had little furniture. Then again, the place felt packed and not empty at all. A desktop computer was sitting on the desk, and around that were heaps of books and files. A smorgasbord of boxes sat by the walls. Some of them had rolled cables of many colors, and others had huge equipment whose purpose I couldn’t quite picture. And, at the center of the room, two long folding tables sat, and I saw recording media like USB, DVD and HDD scattered on them.

  The place looked more like a storage room than an office. Still, considering that the site had a desk and computer, it must have been an office. A couple of folding chairs sat by the long tables. How cozy. It must be lovely to have lunch in this damp basement. If there was a blackout, nobody would notice if something gross like a bug was in the food or drink because the chances of natural light penetrating to the basement were nonexistent.

  I cleared my throat. “So, why am I visiting here? I got a letter inviting me for an aptitude test.” I produced my most serious and professional tone.

  “Oh, yeah.” Jack nodded casually, but somehow, that didn’t soothe my nerves.

  “So, can you tell me why you’re here?”

  “Because I’m the one who sent you the invitation.” He looked at me, looking half-amused and half-exasperated to see a truly, madly dense person.

  I opened my mouth and then shut it. I had a really bad feeling about the upcoming test. “Well, about the final round interview—”

  “I let you pass it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Did you have a strong feeling you were going to pass that?”

  “Not really,” I admitted. My brain had been locked for a while, but when it restarted functioning, I noticed something important; the last person I wanted to meet again had the power to hire me or reject me.

  “Have a seat.” He offered me a folding chair and sat at the desk. Crossing his long legs, he went on. “So, this is the office of H&H Management Department.”

  “Oh…so it’s a department,” I muttered, looking around. I wondered if H&M would want to sue the realty giant for a potential copyright infringement.

  “I thought you’d ask me what H&H stands for.” He crossed his arms.

  “Oh, okay.” I nodded. “What does it stand for?”

  “It’s the abbreviation for hexed and haunted,” he said, and he didn’t look or sound like he was kidding.

  But I said, “Are you serious?” mostly because some people crack jokes sporting the same facial expressions they’d have while meeting their proctologist.

  “Yes, I am.” Uncrossing his arms, he went on. “Quest Realty has a total of seven management departments. The other six are named with a number like The First Management Department, but we don’t do the number thing here. Of course, the name isn’t the only thing that’s special with this department. Unlike others, this particular section requires the sixth sense, a.k.a. extrasensory perception. It could have been named The Sixth Management Department if number six hadn’t been taken.”

  I couldn’t come up with anything smart to say, so I said, “Oh, what a shame.” Then I furrowed my eyebrows. “So, the aptitude test would be about—” I didn’t finish my sentence because I didn’t like what I was thinking.

  “It’s about testing your skill to maneuver your ability,” Jack said matter-of-factly, filling in the blanks. “I know you’ve got a strong perception of the spirits. Honestly, your ability is beyond strong as you not only see them but you also attract them. You’re practically a ghost magnet. Then again, the ability to see dead people isn’t enough to work for this section.”

  My jaw dropped, and I froze with my mouth agape like a total idiot for a while. I wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer, but I wasn’t demented. Of course, I hadn’t forgotten about the incident on the bridge interconnecting this company’s headquarters building with the one right next to it. In the past few days, I’d been working really hard to forget it and convince myself that I’d had a stupid and crazy daydream, but apparently, what I’d gone through had actually happened. Also, I was here thanks to my ability to attract dead people’s spirits.

  I took a deep breath. “Well, I’ve never really regarded myself as someone having a special ability. Then again, it’s up to my underappreciated ability to determine my career with this company. Am I correct?”

  “Exactly.” Jack nodded. “Like its name says, this department is in charge of managing stigmatized properties with issues ranging from minor poltergeists such as occasional rapping sounds to more serious The Blair Witch Project type of hauntings. Identifying the reason for the hex and solving the issues to make those properties profitable again are this section’s job.”

  He didn’t specify the definition of “more serious hauntings,” and I didn’t ask. Call me chicken, but I was too scared to do so. Anyway, who could have guessed Quest Realty, a leading real estate company, would have such an unrealistic section to deal with ghosts and monsters? On top of that, it meant they took paranormal beings seriously to have such a crazy department. I didn’t know which was more shocking—learning that paranormal activities did happen or that the realty giant indeed admitted hauntings were real.

  I looked at Jack Adams’s face again. I noticed two things. He didn’t seem like he was pulling a prank, and he was good-looking. Okay, so it wasn’t the first time I saw him, and I was already aware of his good looks from the first time I met him. Then again, with dark hair, a flawless complexion, and a perfectly sculpted face, he was hot. I also knew he was tall, about six feet when he stood. On top of all that, his intense blue eyes that were almost indigo were so penetrating that when he looked at me, it made me slightly uneasy. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be able to conceal anything from him no matter how hard I’d tried.

  Anyway, the whole situation was too complex and painstaking to set up if it were a prank. Besides that, I couldn’t find any plausible reasons to do so. Going such a long extra mile seemed inappropriate, and making fun of an applicant wouldn’t help the company have a good reputation or make profits. Whatever was going on, I was dealing with Quest Rea
lty, one of the most prominent players in the real estate field not only in the US but the whole world.

  “By the way, are there any other members with this department?” I asked, looking around the office.

  “No.” Jack shook his head. “Several others were here in the beginning, but they ran away shortly. Then again, people without proper ability are literally worthless here. Oh, did I mention it’s a young department launched just a year or so ago?”

  I knitted my eyebrows. His story so far was too absurd to listen to with a serious face, but at the same time, I didn’t have any other offers at hand. In spite of the job market looking bright compared to several years before, my job hunting wasn’t going too peachy.

  While I thought in silence, Jack waited without saying anything. So, he’d been running a one-man operation of the department, but he didn’t look desperate to have additional manpower. I assumed it wouldn’t be all that life-threatening to work in this department. On top of all that, I didn’t mind having stable employment with a huge company. Considering the size of the company, I had a hunch that Quest Realty wouldn’t collapse easily. If I recalled it right, some corporations considered too huge to fail tended to have massive amounts of government aid when they were on the verge of Chapter 11 bankruptcy. Also, the office of H&H Management might be located in the damp basement, but it was a part of the flashy headquarters building.

  “I’ll take the test.” I stood, making up my mind.

  Jack moved his gaze from the computer screen to me. For a moment, he stared at my face as if he was trying to figure out my train of thought. “Fine.” He nodded, abruptly standing up. Then he walked toward the door and opened it.

  “Where are we going?” I asked, puzzled as he motioned for me to go outside.

  “To the test center.” He raised an eyebrow. “You said you’re taking a test, didn’t you?”

  “Test center?” I parroted his words.

 

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