Don't Panic

Tuesday, 1st September

13:35

Alex and Domino returned to their place of work; a long, five-storey building constructed in the mid-18th century which had once been a rubber factory for the booming industry of Manchester. Of course, they weren't the only ones who occupied the building, but it was nothing close to even a quarter capacity despite a private law firm, a plastic surgery clinic, a photographer's den of iniquity and obviously, Stag Antique Appraisal and Dealership taking up their own little sections of the shady-looking structure off the main streets. As they rounded the brick-walled corner and rolled over the grit of the open lot used for a car park, they saw four cars and a single Kawasaki motorbike lined up close to what was once loading docks on the left, three of which they knew. Doctor Laghari's BMW was faithfully in his designated spot (as if there was regularly never a place to park on the spanning flank of land at the rear surrounded by a canal on every side bar the road they came in from), and one of the law firm's partner's Mercedes a couple of spaces down. Julian's vomit coloured 1973 VW Bug was at the furthest end from the tall brick wall they'd just passed, and Domino's bike between that and the Mercedes. Behind it some yards away, a sleek vintage Lincoln towncar with blacked-out back windows on the back end was occupied only by a uniformed driver as far as could be seen.

Alex parked her car in the empty space on the left of Domino's motorbike and the duo exited the vehicle. Light-footed, the female pair entered through the metal door beside the rusted shutter and crossed the dim space filled with wooden crates stacked upon themselves and sawdust strew on the concrete floor. The shop-floor lights were off and only the ecru glow from the upper venting windows and the office halfway up the high lofted room gave off a clue as to where to avoid strewn packing peanuts, tools, and materials used for shipping valuables.

Boots already up on the metal stairs, the redhead jogged up the steps leading to the half-floor over-hanging box-office. "What the fuck kind of job-" Pushing open the glass-topped barrier, the woman stormed into the office without paying much attention and dropped the package down on the table with a huff, "-jobs-were they?!"

"You got back quickly..."

Looking up from fighting to remove her wet leather jacket, she was met by Julian sat at the far right end of the space, at his desk with his back to the windowed fire escape balcony. And then to the others she didn't know. Classical music played at a low volume and then the ashen haired man was backed by two thugs dressed in black suits. Another much more muscular suited man sat at the long table, his pale Italian threads constrasted with his dark skin as his broad back was to the redhead.

Julian patted the air in front of him slowly. "Don't panic." His eyes were wide and his mouth didn't close properly. Sweat was literally dripping settling in the off-set of his wrinkles and his lips quivered. He was clearly the one panicking

"You say while you're sweating buckets." Pretty features twisting, the redhead jabbed a stiletto nail in his general direction. "What's going on here?"

Lounging back in his seat, the tallest of the uninvited guests cocked his head back with a smile, his dark skin wrinkling around the eyes as perfect teeth gleamed when his line of sight met the redhead's. "Long time, no see, Roz."

Flinging her arms up in fury only matched by robbed Valkyries at the mention of that name, the redhead flew for the seated intruder. Gripping the woman by the back of her jacket still half-stuck on her arms at the crook of her elbows, the newest addition to the room used her own weight to steer – or rather, throw - Domino off to the left, and into the stockroom. Slamming the barrier shut, the newly appeared blonde yanked the handle upwards, bending the bar upwards and jamming the lock.

Turning around with her back to the panel being slammed on as if there were a million wild cats in a hot tin box, Alex placed her line of sight on the man she had only heard of second-hand. Wetting her dry lips and muscles aching for a drink, the woman husked. "What do you want?"

Cocking his head in intrigue, the well-built male hummed. Standing up, the man of deep skin tone fixed his contrasting suit jacket before holding out his hand with a pleasant smile. "I'm Mephis-"

"-I know who you are." She cut him off with a curt nod. "Forgive me if I don't shake your hand." She held up a gloved appendage, in which he mirrored the inclination of his head, only slower.

Pretty eyes lingered on the gloved hands of the blonde like a teenaged boy who'd just seen a set of DD's in person for the first time. Eyes twinkling, he took in the figure he'd heard about. "You're the fabled Hex Baines."

"Alex is just fine."

Instantly catching the clear dislike for the nickname which floated around the darker social circles he preferred, the guest held up his own hand in front of his chest in apology. "Miss Baines, I haven't come here to antagonize you or your friends-" The East London accent was almost drowned out by manic yelling and thumping still coming from the door behind the blonde.

"I have no interest in what you're not here to do. I asked what you wanted."

Smiling at the bluntness, the older man with neatly trimmed facial hair gestured to his henchmen. Removing themselves from Julian's personal space, they took to standing uniformly on the top step outside of the door which the women had come in through. "I needed you to do me a favour, and you have done it exceptionally."

"Excuse me?"

"I needed the package you were sent for, and you brought it, just as this....man," the suited male gave a careless waft of his hand in Julian's direction before continuing, "said you would. Good job for him that you're both so reliable."

"Now, I really hope you're not making threats." Reaching into her right pocket, the two henchmen instantly assumed fighting positions.

Holding his hand up to his employees, the pale-suited man dismissed the woman's words with a warm chuckle. "I don't know what kind of men you've dealt with in the past, but I assure you that I am not so crude as to personally harm people if it doesn't benefit my plans."

"You're not a man."

"E-excuse me?"

"You're a demon in a man's skin; you've hijacked someone's body and you're wearing them like a skin-suit," picking the skin on the inside of her thumb knuckle as she tried to ignore the afternoon throb she was being kept from satiating, Alex pointed a calloused finger lazily up and down at the clearly horrendously-expensive Italian fabric. "And I'm well aware of what kind of games you like to play."

"Ouh, that's not very polite..." Rubbing the side of his head with a smirk, the dark-skinned man peered to his conversation. "I think you may be pushing your luck a little, Miss Baines." Lids narrowed over deep bistre irises and full lips stretched to reveal those teeth which she was sure would have no trouble eating up all three of them before they could take a single breath. "I spent a lot of time and money finding this body."

"Congratulations; it's a handsome meat-sack. Now," taking a crinkled cigarette from her pocket and lighting the end, she brought it to her lips and inhaled the fumes, "are you going to tell me why you're still here if you already have what you came for?"

"I thought we could have a nice sit-down, a cup of tea. A little chat, perhaps. Something civilized."

"You manipulated my friend and I after a dirty job gone wrong, and held my other friend captive. I hardly think you're in the position to be asking for any more favours."

"I could always just kill your so-called friend over here," the intruder held his hand out in Julian's direction, "and then take what I came for."

"Do you think you can do both before I get to you?" Alex's right thumb and middle finger pinched the top of her left glove as she stared at the man.

"You may be used to the gutter rats who feed off of the dregs of your society, but you're mistaken if you think I'm anything like them. I can get to him and back before you even blink."

"Not in here you can't. 'You think we haven't placed contingencies all around this place for times like this?"

"Oh?"

"'Don't believe me? You're free to try, but let's make it clear right now," breathing out a long, steady bloom of smoke, Alex kept her eyes fixed on the unwanted guest. "You only get one chance."

"You really are just as they say."

"That's great, now, for the final time, tell me why you're still here before I really get irritated."

"Are you not just a little bit curious about the words I'm told about you?" His low-rumbling voice came out as if he was threatening a sing-song but the blonde's unchanging expression told him he wasn't getting anywhere with the act. Sighing at the lack of cooperation for an unspoken game, the tall man retook his seat from earlier. Gesturing to his minions to make themselves useful, he glanced at the woman. "Do you mind? I'm parched."

"Go right ahead." A bored drawl passed the blonde's lips as she walked towards Julian's desk. Stopping at the filing cabinet between the storeroom door and the man frozen in fright, Alex opened the top drawer. Taking out a bottle of Jack Daniels, she moved in front of the desk overflowing with documents and folders. Untwisting the lid, she took his glass and tossed what was left of the water in the potted orchid beside him. Refilling the glass with a three-finger shot of the bronze liquid, she put it in front of her friend. "Jules, drink it."

Eyes dancing over the interaction, confusion itched at the guest's brain. Holding off from asking anything of it, he continued to observe how the woman treat the human with a weak constitution.

Stuck in a state of shock, the middle-aged man remained still, sweating, his pale eyes staring at the space between particles. "Julian." With a refrained smack to the side of his head, the woman grabbed his face with one hand and held the glass in front of his eyes with the other. "Drink it." Confident that his brain had restarted, Alex turned her back to him and sat on the edge of the desk  as a divider, her eyes on the other three.

The obvious leader had taken to sitting properly at the long table while one of his lackeys cleared a small space and the other brought him a cup of tea. "The package," the suited man started before taking a sip from the steaming cup, "did you open it?"

"No."

Taken aback, the pale-suited guest quirked his brow. "Why not?"

"Because it was in Jules' name."

"Weren't you just a little bit curious?"

"I'm more curious about what's on his iCloud, and given three days and a key of coke, I'd crack it." Taking a deep breath, Alex crossed one leg over the other as she stared at the man across from her. "But I've had those kinds of opportunities, and I still haven't. If it doesn't concern me or mine, or bring in payment, I couldn't care less about your ancient demon porn."

Giving a nod to the employee closest to the package, the nondescript lackey in a simple black suit placed it on top of a small stack of books for the lack of room and carefully removed the brown paper which was almost entirely covered in various talismans and seals on the inside. Waiting until the man had returned to his spot by the main door, the leader cut to the chase. "Open it."

'It' was evidently the ornately carved wooden box. And it was even clearer that he was talking to Alex. Sliding off the desk, the woman advanced to get a better look at what had caused such a fuss. It must have been something, as even Julian had scampered up and knocked past the blonde in a bluster. "Is this-"

Gripping the antique dealer's wrist before he could touch it, the suited guest hummed. "As much as I would love to see a human firework right now, especially made from you, librarian, I highly doubt that it would leave a good impression if I let such a thing happen."

Alex glared at the grip on Julian's wrist and the intruder got the point to let go. Content with the release, she glanced at the box and raised her brow in suspicion. "And you're asking me to open it?"

"Well, nobody else can." The guest shooed Julian out of his personal space with one hand and held the teacup to full lips with the other. "Nobody else here, at least."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, sweetheart, you're not a demon, but you're not exactly the usual run-of-the-mill human, either, are you?"

Looking to Julian, his eyes were still fixed on the large box as if the Holy Grail was only inches from him. "What is it? A Dybbuk box? Pandora's Box?"

"Even though it's called Pandora's box, it was never actually a box; it was a jar." Inspecting the item from over the blonde's shoulder, Julian scowled at the wood which was carved millennia ago. "But it does look Macedonian, around 700BC, if I had to take a rough guess."

The pale-suited man raised his brow in surprise. "Your human is pretty well trained."

Julian's head snapped around to glare at the uninvited presence. "I'm not a pet." All he got was a carefree shrug from the much taller man.

Stubbing her vice out in the ashtray at the other end of the table, she reached out for the object. Feeling the crevices in the woodwork, her eyes travelled to the obscure locking mechanisms. "Jules, pass me the lock-picking kit."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"And why is that?"

"Because it would probably implode with heavenly might if its ham-fisted."

"Oh, well, yeah. That is a good reason not to try and force it." Rolling her eyes, Alex gave the intrusion a deadpan glower at the fact he'd left that part out until now. "Do you have any idea of opening it?"

"You were probably right the first time when you were touching the top. The divine is known for their OCD, so it probably involves your blood, too."

"You're all as fucked up as each other. Blood, and sexual fluids, and virgin sacrifices...And it's always female virgins. I bet if some cunt sacrificed the virgin sons, all Hell'd break loose." Wobbling her head with narrowed brows, Alex muttered to herself as she elongated her neck to check out the craftsmanship of the device without her glasses. "What will you fuckers think of next?"

The man of colour sipped a round of Domino's prized beverage, his line of sight on the woman just above the rim of his teacup. "Would you really like to know?"

Eyes fixed on her task, she wrinkled her nose and stuck her hand into her pocket. "No."

Retrieving her keys, she popped the blade on the Swiss knife. Running it over her thumb, sanguine pearled on the peeling pad. Turning her hand upside down, she let her blood hit the centrepiece of the top. As if it was being sucked inside the box, the crimson spread through the etched veins which had been carved out in the reddish-tan wood. Within the minute, the mechanic crunch of rusted metal scraped and the lid jolted open a fraction. Pushing open the lid fully, a cloud of dust escaped from all sides, attacking the woman's nose and eyes, and revealing the treasure inside. Only, it was no gleaming gems or trunk of ancient gold. Accepting the item propped up in the centre of the deep indent lined with cobalt silk, the blonde broke the crimson wax seal and flipped open the old school parchment backed with some kind of animal hide.

Reading over the first words, or at least trying to, she chucked it down in front of the intruder with a huff. Walking behind him, she opened the kitchen drawer. "I can't read that crap - that's what Jules and Dom are for." She snatched a half-empty pack of cigarettes from the compartment and pulled one from it. Taking the lighter from her pocket, she sparked the end and made her way back into the view of the guest. Smoke floating out of her mouth and in through her nose, Alex sat on the corner of the desk, not even six inches from the interloper. "Have the brass to tell me your terrifying prophecies and curses in English," white stick between his index, middle and thumb pads in the same way you hold a dart, stark green irises bore down into the man of status, "or get the fuck outta here before my friend claws her way out of that tiny, dark room with nothing but her over-done nails."

The guest placed the teacup down on the table and looked up at the blonde. "You're an odd one-"

"-This is the last time I'll ask."

Standing up, he paused beside the store cupboard door and rapped on it twice. "It was nice to see you again, Roz." The suited man let his eyes sliver to the woman who's name travelled in darker circles. "If you need me, you can call me at any time." Handing over a beige business card, the well-built man tipped his imaginary hat. "I'll leave the scroll so you can have a nice story-time." The stranger stopped by the kitchen and quirked his brow as he took in the sight of the female one last time. "It was really a pleasure to meet you first-hand, Miss Baines; you did not disappoint my expectations." With a blink from Alex and Julian, the man and his cronies were gone without a trace.

Looking around madly, the business-owner rushed over to the woman. Utter interest brightening his face from the pallid, near-death expression he was sporting only moments before, the shorter man practically bounced on the spot. "What does it say?"

"You just saw me toss it."

"Don't you think you should read it?"

"You read it."

"But he told you to do it."

Giving Julian a pointed look, Alex opened the scroll and shoved it in front of him. "Have at it, Julian. I started doing the heavy lifting because languages make my head hurt more than the general migraines. I can barely get by with English; I don't even know what language that is, let alone how to read it. It's certainly not Latin, it looks more archaic, like an amagamation if early Greek, and Babylonian or maybe something earlier from the Middle East."

It took the man less than three seconds to briefly scan the first block of text which filled five inches of the mostly rolled up scroll. Alex could see the tiny muscles in his face twitch and his brilliant mind over-clock. "This is old Aramaic. An obscure dialect, at that." Julian's brows furrowed deeper by the millisecond the more he inspected the box and its contents. "I don't understand..."

Curiosity prompted by the phrase she very rarely heard the man say, Alex weaved her head. "What?"

"Why would a Macedonian box from 700BC - well ahead of its time, I should add - contain a scroll made from animal hide found in the most Northern parts of Europe while written in the first collection of Aramaic characters?"

"Someone really enjoyed scavenger hunts, I guess."

"This isn't funny." He shot her a quick glance before returning to his task. "I can't even touch it to test it properly."

"He just said the box."

"Despite your form and your fondness for mortal vices, Alex, you could twiddle that thing all day and nothing would likely happen. I, on the other hand, do not want to experience being a 'human firework', as our guest so kindly put it."

"You're right; you probably shouldn't risk it." Faffing about with collecting a few bits and pieces from around the office, the blonde came back to the box, an old flip-cellphone in her hand.

"What are you doing?"

"Being paranoid. You should probably move away." Lining up to take a picture of the text on the 2006 burner-phone Domino had used last year, Alex turned her face away with an unsightly tongue-out grimace and twitching partially-closed eye as snapped a shot of the top quarter of the scroll, just in case it wanted to 'kaboom'.

"I see what you're doing." The man took the cell from the younger woman's hands. Shocked by a burst of nothing short of electricity, Julian flung the device into the air out of knee-jerk reaction. "What the fu-" The phone hit the floor and the main button pinged off under the desk.

Giving an apologetic squint, Alex half grimaced-half grinned at the man shaking his assaulted hand. "What about a murder board?"

"Excuse me?"

"Like in the detective movies. They pin bits and pieces to a board."

"Are you serious?"

Checking the time on the wall clock, Alex let go of the scroll and straightened up with an expression Julian had never seen before. "You'll have to deal with the first piece alone for now; I have to go."

"Wait, what? Where are you going? You can't go now - we have a legitimate supernatural mystery on our hands."

"Yeah, well, I have several appointments which could change my life forever and I can't mess them up."

"You can't just leave that box in the middle of the goddamn table. What if someone touches it?"

"You know not to, and so will Dom when you let her out." Throwing her damp leather jacket up on the coat rack, she took a black suit jacket off the prong next to it. "Hopefully, one of those little cunts who keeps breaking in will try to take it and redecorate this God-awful paint job because frankly, I'm sick of dealing with both."

Horror masked Julian's face as the words processed. "With their guts?"

"At this point, the choice between Barbie pink and puke-green fence pain on sale at B'n'M is seriously becoming less of a torture and more of a release." Splashing her face with cold water from the kitchen sink, Alex looked around for a towel, to which there was none. Blustering around the cluttered room, she mumbled to herself. "Ah, shit...It'll dry if I have the windows down and drive fast enough, right? Right..."

"You can't leave me here with that thing."

"Then go home." Patting herself down, she made sure she had her phone, smokes, lighter, and keys. "Just don't forget to let Domino out of the store cupboard."

"Oh, shi-" Julian looked towards the aforementioned closet and just as quickly back to the blonde. "I don't kno-"

Reaching into the drawer, Alex threw a pair of pliers onto the stack of books at the end of the table as she opened the door to the metal staircase. "I hope you know how to remove a handle."

"Me?"

"Do you see anyone else?" Wobbling her head, Alex pointed around the space. "By the time it takes you to get Domino out, I should be where I need to be. See ya'."

"What are you playing at?"

"I just told you; I'm taking control of my future." Holding her hand up, Alex dashed out of the door and ran down the metal steps leading onto the ground floor workspace.

Updated: 9th October 2020 - 19:07