The door to her office should never be open when she was out. Light of the cheap hallway lamps shrank away from the darkened doorway standing a handspan open, gloom within seemed to devour beyond the threshold. The familiar feeling of the well worn revolver handle lessened the prickling sensation rising along the back of her neck. By design she’d left the hinges squeaky like a poor excuse for a door chime, clients had a pesky habit of dropping by unannounced.
The snub of the barrel lead the way into the office sweeping the penlight torch just ahead of her actual aim, hoping to catch anyone hiding in the dim space right in the eyeline while her torso remained safely crammed around the corner in the hallway.
As the small beam carved through the dark void within, searching for foes lurking beyond, a crumpled shape became illuminated just to the right of the desk. The office held 5 pieces of furniture marking the immobile shape as the only odd one out.
Flicking a glance back down the hallway to check no surprises were taking the opportunity to arrive right when her back was turned. Finding no immediate threats, the toe of her boot pushed the door on it’s horrendously squeaky hinges to ponderously swing slowly open. Finally all the way open, the doorway allowed light from the hallway to conquer the darkness, pushing it back and spilling through to softly highlight the sharper edges of the run down office.
The body had a sickeningly familiar shape, the lumps and bumps below the soft teal cloak with the orange sea dragon emblazoned on the back was the first of many tell-tale signs. The shining bronze helm and the distinct thick brown leather gloves with 8 fingers each, gave no room for doubt. Her client was dead on the floor of her office.
Again.
Now to grab the necessary items off the body so she could get to work. She’d been through this rodeo more than she’d care to dwell on, having a knack for snaking her fingers along the edge of the armour and fishing out the pocket watch from the hidden pocket along the small of the lower back. Synchronising the the hands on the intricate piece with the much cheaper version she’d been gifted. The inert portal on the wall flashed symbols in rapid succession in rhythm with the instrument in her hands.
Grabbing a scrap note off the desk she scribbled a quick note in the cypher that she knew better than her native tongue at this point. Within moments the paper plane was fashioned from the note and she flung it through the portal. A tense moment followed but then a ghastly breathe was drawn by the figured on the floor. “Welcome back.” She grumbled stepping over the rasping figure to turn on the light and close the perpetually squeaky door.
Grabbing two glasses and the client’s bottle from the credenza as she returned to her desk. The glasses stood filled with a perfumed purple liquid as the figured picked themselves up off the floor, shakingly collapsing into the closest chair facing the desk. “Who was it?” The florally light voice sent a thrill along her arms ever astonished at the command it held for such a beautiful sound. “You’ll know as well as I, soon. Your grace.” She always forgot the niceties of the upper crust.
The new memories always came on the heals of a blinding headache but the liquor helped. Given it cost twice as much as her yearly retainer it was the most luxurious thing she owned bar none and reserved for this increasingly less rare occasions. “Bastard. Thank you for dealing with him so swiftly.” As the helm lifted she averted her gaze to the table as was custom. A few moments later the musical voice said, “Now, I suppose you’ll want to talk about an increase to your fee?”