Ashlyn's Corner

It looked like a typical office. Walls that haven't been painted in years, tiled floors with coffee stains, windows shielded with dusty louvres that did not let a single spare of sunlight into the room that was lit by the countless computer screens, ventilation that did not work properly and oozed the familiar raucous sounds, blue uncomfortable-looking office chairs, and identical tables aligned in rows, separated by paper-thin cubicles, reminding everyone of the pitiful life of slavery they'd led. Yet, it wasn't just an office. Meaning, that something felt off, however, I couldn't put my finger on it.

"So, why are you here?" The person on the other side of the desk asked. "Excuse me–?" I uttered, slacking my eyes off the ceiling. I was surprised, a bit dazed and hadn't got the slightest idea of why was I indeed here. "I have asked– why are you here?" He glanced off the clipboard, that was peacefully resting in his prolonged fingers. "Strange, I did not see a hearing impairment in your files, Mr Walker. May I ask if the upper board forgot it by mistake, or are you just not listening to what I am saying?" He looked irritated, even though his voice remained calm and tender. I stared into his crimson protruding eyes. It was an odd eye colour, but I did not want to mention anything about it. Maybe they were contacts? I was a bit hesitant to speak, I didn't want to make this stranger angry. He appeared scary and ready to throw punches.

"Mr Walker, we cannot proceed with this interview if you remain silent." He stated coolly and sighed. "Interview? Am I at a job interview of some sort?" I spoke out without thinking. Thankfully, the interviewer appeared pleased. He wrote something down on the clipboard and turned his sinister eyes back to me. "Something like that," he said with a smirk. "I must say, you did choose quite a peculiar place for this occasion." He added with his glare scanning the room. "But I didn't apply for any jobs," I spoke out again, thoughtlessly. The man across the table seemed a bit surprised at hearing this. A second later, he smiled smugly again. "Actually, most people do not apply for this job. Nonetheless, you are among the few, who did apply." He finished, the haughty smile playing on his lips. Now, he paid his full attention to me. I squirmed in the chair a bit. I seriously could not recollect applying for jobs lately. I was staring at my feet too timid to look at the bizarre man, sitting across me.

The red-eyed man laid the clipboard onto the table. "Not to worry, Mr Walker, we may pursue this interview, although you do not remember applying for this job." He said carelessly. Despite my trembling hands, I glanced at him. Weirdly, he appeared just as frightening as he appeared alluring. I felt my insides quiver, gulped and nodded to him. I wanted to leave, but somehow I knew I could not leave this room.

"Splendid!" The interviewer clasped his hands. "Then, do you have any questions before we start?"

"Well– what kind of job is it?" I inquired.

"Sadly, I cannot answer that question just yet." He said innocently.

I glared at him. I noticed that his teeth looked more like fangs than ordinary human teeth. I slid my tongue against my own teeth as if I was making sure they aren't as sharp as his. "Then," I began to speak again. The man was hooked on each word. "Will I be able to leave after we finish this interview–?" I asked anxiously.

"Well, of course." He said merrily. "You're quite a peculiar one, are you not?"

I decided to ignore his last remark and told him that he can proceed with his questions.

"What would you say are your best qualities?" He inquired.

I personally despised these kinds of questions as I wasn't particularly good at anything. I wasn't somewhat talented in any areas. Sure, I played the guitar when I was younger, but I did not exceed at it. I wasn't notably smart or dumb thankfully. I was mediocre at almost everything. I guess– I was a decent-looking guy. But that wasn't a quality of any sort. My mom always told me that I was polite and that was a good quality, right? "I'd reckon that I am polite," I answered faintly.

"Quite good-looking too," The guy added, smiling to himself. The clipboard was in his hand once again, noting my answers.

What a strange man, I thought.

"Let me continue then," The man said. "Worst qualities that you reckon you have?"

This question was easy enough to answer. "I am a lazy piece of shit, unmotivated and tired most of the time. Truly a pitiable human being." This interview was a failed one for sure. But it wasn't like I wanted to land this job.

"But these qualities, if we can call it that, are the results of your illness, am I correct?" He implied. "I'm sorry–" I blurted, shocked. How the hell would he know about that? I haven't told anyone, not even my mom. "You were diagnosed with clinical depression and paranoid schizophrenia, two years back, am I correct?" He continued. "I–I, wait." I scanned the room. "Is this not real? Am I imagining this?" I asked.

"Sadly, that is not the case. Mr Walker." He said. "Let us continue the interview then– What do you think about people?"

What kind of question was that? What do I think about people? "Depends," I said simply. "Let's say about the people in your life. What do you think about them?" He clarified.

My mom was alright. Wasn't she? She's let me live in the basement after my girlfriend kicked me out… But it felt as if she was imprisoning me. In some way, I hated her for it. My girlfriend was like a tick, sucking all my life out of me. I was glad when she left. I did not have any friends, not good friends at least, and I was fine with that. They would be just another anchor tying me down.

"I'm not fond of them, I guess," I replied, staring into the man's vivid eyes.

"Interesting." Mumbled the man, writing down notes. "What person did you love?" He asked after a minute. "I don't reckon I've ever truly loved anyone." "Did you ever feel love?" "I think I did, but it wore off quite quickly. I became tired." "What did you enjoy?" "I don't know." "What did you not enjoy?" "I don't know, quite a few things." "What was the most generous act of your life?" "I spared my mom worrying about my mental health." "What was the most selfish act of your life?"

"I've killed myself."

"Well, then." The man said pleasantly. "That conducts our interview, Mr Walker."