Page 20 of Malice

Crash is smart and well meaning, but he can be a little wild when it comes to some of the more aggressive Horrors. Keep that in mind. He’s better at managing the living.

I nod. “Okay.”

“Crash is correct that the Horror is still manifesting, but our indicators show that he is strengthening quickly. He’s motivated, which is very bad. He wants to harm his target. I’m implanting his history now.”

“Implanting? What does?—”

I choke on my words as my head jerks back. Words and pages scroll by and somehow I’m able to read and understand all of it. It’s all about Chester Dillon, from his childhood to his death.

“Whoa.”

“You may need this information to deal with him,” Farnsworth says. “I’ll be going. Don’t forget your report.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Then he’s gone. Otto yips at the space he was just in then looks at me, tilting his head.

“Takes some getting used to, buddy. Come on. Let’s get you some breakfast.”

Interesting that Otto barked at Farnsworth. Doesn’t that mean he’s not benign? I’ll have to ask Crash.

An hour later, I pull into the parking lot of my job with no clue how I’m going to focus and act normal after what I’ve beenthrough the last couple of days, but maybe the distraction will be good for me.

Stepping inside the building feels different, like I’m seeing it all with new eyes. A person in front of me scans her badge and unlocks the door, holding it for me, which is great since I couldn’t find mine this morning. HR will be annoyed to have to replace it, but oh well.

I walk through the office, glancing at people who look at me as if they’ve never seen me before. That’s odd. When I get to my desk, there’s a man already sitting there, typing away at the computer. Several members of my team file in, gazing at me with curious and slightly suspicious eyes as they take their seats. The man in my chair looks up, pulling his head back slightly.

“Can I help you?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah. You’re sitting at my desk.”

The man’s brow creases. “I’m sorry?”

I look around. “Did they reorganize and move my desk over the weekend?” Little bolts of panic spread through me until I see Michele coming in. She smiles but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge me.

“Michele. It’s me. Aster.”

Michele’s eyes land on the man at my desk before returning to me. “I’m sorry. Have we met? Oh. Are you a new hire? I didn’t get the orientation email.”

“New hire?” I rub my forehead. “Is Brad here?”

“Probably,” the man says. “I’ll take you to his office.”

“Thanks.”

What the fuck is going on? I was just here on Friday, so why is Michele acting like she doesn’t know me and there’s some new dude at my desk?

The guy with me knocks on Brad’s open door. My boss looks up, smiling slightly, but there’s not even a hint of recognition on his face.

“Morning, Bill. Who’s this?”

“Aster,” Bill says. “He seems to think I’m at his desk. There must be a mix-up.”

“Huh,” Brad says. “I’ll take it from here.”

Bill nods, walking away but glancing over his shoulder at me.

“Are you supposed to start today?” Brad asks.

---