Chapter Two

Dressed in a black blazer jacket and pants with white heels with a grey blouse, Blair readied herself and grabbed her lunch, and walked out of her apartment unit, locking the door behind her. She breathed in and out, continuing on her way to work.

Six months after Salan's death, Blair received an invite from Marcus Ledger, FBI Human Resources Manager for the position of Field Intelligence Agent for the FBI's Fifth Division Team. After a gruesome test and two interviews with a panel of five, she got the job after two weeks. It was intimidating that a twenty-one-year-old, fresh out of college with a high GPA, who joined activities and clubs relating to her career goal, would ever be part of the FBI, let alone the Fifth Division. It made her think of the Division of the Tenth. The Fifth Division focus on cases that were more so... extraterrestrial or urban legends. Anyone outside of the Division is not allowed to transfer to the Fifth Division without special requests, which ninety-nine percent are denied. Only those that are higher than the divisions are allowed to know what cases are going on in the Fifth Division.

Arriving at her office with her white purse in one hand and coffee in another, she walks toward the security guard. He was dressed in a typical rent-a-cop outfit, his big belly sticking out, but surprisingly tucked in his pants neatly. Blair flashed her ID that is being held by the same hand as the coffee. She placed her purse, cell phone, and keys in the bucket so the security guard can scan through the metal detector; "Go ahead." The guard said so tired and bored like; just doing his job, Blair thought to herself. After giving the all-clear, Blair grabbed her items and walks on in.

Walking inside the FBI office, she sat at her neat, tidy desk with two manilla folders on her keyboard with two sticky notes on them, and written on them are big, red letters saying "Confidential". She sighs out loud, groaning lowly while biting her lip, "I haven't even clocked in." She sat down, and logged in to her early 1990's style computer with modern high-speed internet and today's technology, Blair opened a specific software and clocked in, starting her day. Blair tries to like the mornings, this was the slowest. Most of the calls and requests that would come in would not show up until the afternoon. The woman attempts to gather herself and works on small tweaks, ways to mute out the extra noise surrounding her.

Blair would also think about Salan. What would those two do now, if he was still alive? Blair obviously decided she wouldn't be working for the FBI. She might have worked at a small shop part-time and possibly volunteer her time around the community. That's not the reality of it. The world Blair wanted to live in, cannot happen anymore. He died; Blair accepted it. It was, though, a daydream. He still lived in her mind and in her dreams.

Once Blair created her mental safe space, Blair began to work, starting with her email. Thirty-two emails total, twenty-two unread, one of the emails belonged to her supervisor, Ian; this email was marked with a high priority flag. Ian was not the most like supervisor in the office. Actually, he's not the whole liked in the Fifth Division, actually, according to Blair, he isn't liked in the whole building. Ian very much liked to put anxiety in his employees, he loved to put it in Blair. Once he heard of a young woman entering the Division, with no experience of any mythical, nonhuman cases, he somehow had it out for her. Little did he know, Blair did have experience, unfortunately, it was not a pleasant one.

She swallows her anxiety and opens it. It's a meeting with Ian and... Marcus from Human Resources. The subject is lined FW: S.O.S. Transfer. She looks away from her screen and sees her coworker, Chris. He's blonde with bulk muscles. He wears a buttoned up blue shirt and black formal pants with black shoes. He sits down opposite of her at his deck. He is close to Blair's age. He started a year before Blair joined. He was the one percent that moved in the Fifth Division.

"Morning, Blair!" He grins at her, coffee in one hand, donut in another.

"Morning... Hey, Chris?" Blair asks, her voice is shaking.

"Yeah?" He asks her.

"So... have you heard anyone getting a "S.O.S. Transfer email?" He rolls himself next to Blair and sees the email.

"Hmm... no, I haven't. But, I don't think it's a bad thing. It's not like you're in trouble; you've done tremendous work with us in The Fifth Division."

"Yeah... but all I do for eight hours is research cases and mythology. I'm not complaining or anything, but I would like to do more."

"You're a good researcher, though." Blair smiles at him,

"Thanks." Chris swings back to his side of the desk and she checks the email and accepts for today's 4:00pm meeting with Ian and Marcus.

~~~~~~

12:00pm comes around and she grabs her lunchbox and returns to her desk. She opens it and pulls out her sandwich; the normal mayo and bologna sandwich.

"Okay... so there's the missing lady with the Jersey Devil..." Before she can take a bite,

"Miss Nelson." She moves her eyes and sees Ian right behind her. "Working and eating your lunch, are we?" There he goes again.

Skinny, toothpick size. He was close to Salan's height, his pale skin and green eyes peer in Blair's sky blue one. He has a white, button shirt with brown dress up pants and suspenders on with dark brown shoes. His face is long, nose is pointy and looks like he hasn't slept in ages. It's obvious from the badly brushed his brown hair is and his mustache and beard has been growing since Blair's third month. He is reaching up to his sixties.

"I'm not breaking any rules, Ian." Blair says in her monotone voice.

"Yes, well... did you see the email that I sent you and I CC'ed Marcus in that email too?" Ian, preferring the first half of his second shift, schedules to arrive at 12:00pm and stick around until 8:00pm where most of the excitement of urban legend monsters appear.

"I did and I accepted it." Blair sets the sandwich down, "What exactly is this about?" Ian's eyes narrow at Blair, his brow furrows in annoyance.

"Hmm... clearly you haven't seen the whole email. I would like for you to do so before the meeting." He says and walks away. Once he's out of sight,

"What an ass." Blair whispers under her breath. She grabs the sandwich and eats it while scrolling through the emails copied with it. Ian was right... there was another email attached. It's from a woman named Freya. Her email is a personal email, Freya.Harrison1986@aol.com. Who uses aol anymore, Blair thought. It was sent this morning at 4:12am.

She reads the email,

'Good morning Marcus,

How are you, my old friend? We need to catch up with coffee and talk about our old field agent days.

I have a situation happening down in New Mexico and we are requiring assistance from the FBI.

We specifically are looking for the assistance of Blair S. Nelson, one of your most promised agents in the Fifth Division. We will pay for her stay and would like the FBI Fifth Division to highly consider of giving Ms. Nelson a raise in pay for taking on this task.

We are asking for Blair S. Nelson specifically as she had previous experience with a Wild Elf in the past.

I look forward to your response and meeting Ms. Nelson in the future.

Sincerely yours,

Freya Harrison

Supervisor Field Agent

Division of the Tenth

Blair unconsciously drops her sandwich into her lap. The Division of the Tenth? They're back again? Blair stands and falls on her knees, knocking her papers down. Chris and a few of Blair's coworkers run to her all in panic.

"Blair, Blair!?" Chris holds her in his arms, her face is flustered and sweating as her eyes are closed. Ian peeks out around the corner and sees the event. He is clearing the way for Chris.

"Looks like she fainted. Get her in infirmary, now."