Don't Scream, Don't Panic, Don't Run

The whole room is hushed as they all look at me for a few moments before they all burst out into loud laughing.

I feel a huge gush of air flow out of me. My shoulders slumping in relief as they laugh instead of, well, whatever it is that they could and probably would have done to torture me.

"That is Ayah at her best. Be glad that's all that happened to you." One of the tall, dark, brooding strangers in the corner says.

I cannot see his face clearly, he is pressed deeply into the shadows. But his voice is deep and resonant. I can’t help but hold in a sigh. My mind is reeling with different questions, wondering when they will be willing to answer my biggest one. Why, why would they choose me?

Of all the authors in the world, I definitely couldn’t call myself a legend. I wasn’t even a consistent household name. I had some fans, and a popular work or two, but that didn’t mean that I was the best choice for this job.

I take a step further into the dimly lit room, into the den of monsters.

"So... what exactly is the criteria for my involvement in this?" I finally decide to ask as the laughter begins to die down.

"Come, come, sit, sit" says a short, gnomish creature as he grabs my sleeve and leads me to one of the semi comfortable looking armchairs. His long ginger hair sways in its ponytail as he practically drags me along behind him. He turns around and quickly shoves me down into the chair with more force than I thought possible considering his size.

Keeping that thought to myself though, I shimmy myself into a comfortable sitting position and look around expectantly, waiting for someone to explain.

"Okay, so I guess we just really got tired of all the fan fiction and things. We are all tired of having our horror stories romanticized. It makes all these killings less enjoyable. We love the chase, but the whole of the human population has romanticized us so much that we aren't entirely scary to our victims anymore." Mr tall, dark and brooding states, detaching himself from the wall he had been leaning on and walking closer to me.

Almost as a reflex I flinch as he approaches. But now I can see that he is just as pale as his friends around here, no pigmentation in his skin at all either. And his hair is the same, a white colour. Even his eyes appear to have very little pigmentation in them, glowing grey-white even in the darkness.

It takes me a moment to register what he says, and I force back a blanch at his whining. I can’t believe that he is seriously complaining to me, that his victims don’t bring him joy now that some of them find him a romantic potential due to some books. I bite the inside of my lip hard, trying to stifle the laugh that wants to bubble up.

"We needed someone who was capable and easily willing, or at least mostly willing..." Geoff starts, changing his train of thought a little with a short glare from me "to come with us each individually while we hunt and describe exactly what we do, how we do it, and finally, the imminent death of our victim who wasn't afraid. The stupid bitches."

I take a deep breath and take a moment to settle myself. If I laugh, I die. I look down at my fingers, intertwined on my lap. I cannot believe this.

They made this whole stupid plan, this unbelievable and stupid plan, just because their hunts aren’t as fun? I want the earth to just swallow me whole at this point because I can’t believe that I am now dealing with psychotic children.

"So... that's where I come in...?" I mutter and I hear a deep chuckle coming from behind me.

I turn and look, seeing a seriously tall, like eight or nine feet tall, and dreadfully skinny man hidden in the shadow.

"That is exactly where you come in, young one." The man says, in a hiss, as he steps into the light. My eyes feel like they have become saucers and immediately I pull my legs up to my chest and try to curl into myself as I realize who exactly I am staring at.

The Watcher is nothing like what the stories say. They don't come anywhere close to describing the terror you feel as soon as you set eyes on him.

His pale, pale skin is almost as white as an eggshell. Placed against the dark black suit it looks almost frightening. His face is blank though, no eye holes or sockets where they go, just small divots where the holes should be. His perfectly hairless scalp looks almost too fake to be real. If you look very closely there is a hint of a crack on his face that indicates the existence of a mouth, a terrifying thought really. His arms and legs are super long and dangly. Too long for the length of his body, they look unnatural.

I do squeak now, just a small sound passing through my lips as I stare up into the face of horror.

I had almost become calm, most of these monsters, though making my hair stand on end, weren’t something I would call immediately terrifying. But the Watcher, it took every single will inside my body to not scream and run to my car. To not book it out of there instantly. Even knowing that I would not live long enough to tell of my experiences here.

"We want you to help us, to describe to the world what we really do. We want the real thing out there, not the misconceptions of our existence. And you are going to do that for us." The Watcher says and I look at him like he is nuts.

I can’t help the perverse distraction, watching as his mouth just peels open on his face when he speaks, razor sharp teeth reminiscent of a shark, peeking through at me. The mouth of a supernatural killer, oh god what did I get myself into?

Before I can stop myself I start rambling.

"Wait, wait, wait. so you're telling me that... that I am going to have to come and watch you guys murder people? Innocent people? And then write about it? That's sick, that is so sick and twisted and wrong. I'm going to be... I'll be an accessory to murder!" I cry out, mustering all the strength I have to not get up and run or just burst into tears. I know Geoff had already said something along these lines, but my brain is just now beginning to comprehend the truth of this matter.

"Don't worry about that. With this task we have set out for you comes the promise of protection. We are not good Miss Jaden, but we certainly cannot have our little pet in danger from the law.” The Watcher hisses at me, coming forward and slowly placing one extremely elongated hand on my head. My eyes almost pop out of my skull as I feel the chill of his hand on me.

“You won't get caught and we will not hurt you ourselves." He finishes his statement calmly and I continue to look at him wide eyed, my mouth hanging open in shock.

"I, you, I what? I'm getting protection for doing this?" I ask and he nods his blank pale face at me.

"Of course you are, young one. We have our friends here, but we also have our enemies. You are a means to an end for us and our enemies will try to get to you in any way that they can. We are going to attempt to prevent those things from happening so that you may focus on your task. You will have guards stationed with you wherever you go. To school, to work, at home, everywhere." He says and I just stare at him in complete shock.

He stares back at me too, as if he is waiting for something. An acknowledgment maybe? So, I nod my head.

"Our only rules for this to work are while we're out" He adds and I look at him quizzically.

"Alright, I'll bite... what are my rules to follow?" I ask and the crack in his face widens as his non-existent lips pull into a gruesome smile showing off the rows of legitimate razors in his face.

"Don't Scream. Don't Panic. Don't Run.