Sharon’s note: This was another writing exercise where the first and last lines were provided, but there was also a strange rule added where there was something we couldn’t do. Try to see if you can spot what it is. Warning: Monsters at work.
“A name is usually the first thing we learn about a person.” Red eyes glared over a sheet of paper while long claws drummed on the rickety wooden desk. The voice of the Interviewer was low, growly, and worst of all, disapproving.
“Yes, Sir, but you see, I’m a nameless horror.” The already reedy, child-like voice of the Applicant raised to an undignified squeak. The ancient house groaned as if in sympathy while the wind screamed through the broken glass of the window.
“So you can’t read, then?” A head shaped like a vulture’s, covered with taunt, leperous gray skin raised enough to look down on the Applicant. “Since you failed to notice that the form says name or title. Failing that, primary purview is also acceptable.”
Goblinesque shoulders tensed as the Applicant raised its trembling, bifurcated chin. “And since I assume you can read, Sir, you’ll see that I’ve never had another posting, I haven’t had the chance to earn a title. As for purview, I’ve scored equally well in Under Bed and Closet Lurking, Basement Creeping, Sewer Haunting, and Alley Stalking. The only thing I had less than stellar grades in is Dark Woods Hunting, but that’s only because of my stature. Short legs just aren’t made for keeping up with humans in a dead run.”
Bones popped and grated as the Interviewer stood, a giant marionette-like thing made of bird bones covered in rotten leather. A cloud of dust covered them as its head brushed the ceiling. There was no doubt of its power, though, as steel cord muscles flexed around its jaw and rusty scythe talons flexed. “Do you dare to insult me, little monster? Do you realize I could eat you up in a single bite?”
Having been small its entire life, the Applicant knew it well. A tiny thing, they teased. All teeth, no stomach, they jeered. Well, it had handled them, so it could handle this. With a rattling hiss, it split its jaw into three, opening wide, like a fleshy fanged flower. Short it may be, but the Applicant had a lot of teeth. “While I have no doubt you could, Sir, I wouldn’t recommend it. Neither of us would enjoy it if I had to chew my way out of your stomach.”
Silence, except for the moaning of the wind rocking the house.
The booming bark of laughter from the Interviewer was so sudden it made the Applicant jump like a startled cat. “Brilliant! For a second there, I feared you were as weak as you looked. How do you feel about Cave Crawling? With all the cracks and small spaces, someone of your size could really be an asset.”
Startled by the sudden change of mood, the Applicant just blinked its large, milky eyes for a moment. “That… that should be fine, Sir. Dark spaces are a specialty of mine since I have 20/20 dark vision.”
“Then you’re hired,” said the Interviewer. “And, as a side note, don’t think I didn’t notice that everyone in your class with a higher grade than you disappeared. While I appreciate the hustle, remember that we are a team, and need to work together. Although, I would be interested in learning how you took them out, as small as you are.”
“Poison goes a long way.” A flex of its hand revealed the Applicant’s razor-sharp retractable nails. “Absolute refusal to die took care of the rest. Guess you could say I’ve finally clawed my way to the top.”
Gray Matters: The Works of Sharon and James Gray 