Theres a voice deep below

“Statement ends.” Jon groaned and leaned back in his office chair. The old thing had his back all stiff and achy after a long shift, he made a small note to ask to replace it as he shuffled across the room to grab his belongings. He was wiggling his right arm into his coat when a small knock echoed into the small office. He let out a “tsk” as he picked up his briefcase and made way for the door. The floorboards gave a protest at every step he made, though not as loud as the door when it just about shrieked open. “Yes?”

“Oh, uh, yes, sorry Jon. I know, well I mean it looks like since you got your coat and bag,” Martin stammered as Jon rolled his eyes. “Can you possibly make this any longer than it needs to be?”

“S-sorry. Uh well I am not sure how to explain what is at the front desk. Is it a man? I think. Well two men actually, the other chap looks normal enough, talking of a blood ocean?” Martin shuffled his feet as he spoke. “I’m Sorry what?”

“Blood ocean, Yes, that's what the dark haired one said.” Jon pinched the bridge of his nose “Do you know how late it is Martin? I do not have time.”

“Should I send them off then?”

“Have them fill out a statement form and maybe i will get to it tommorow.” Martin nodded as Jon shut the door behind him and locked up for the night. “Pff blood ocean. Probably some drunk blokes talltales, again.”

—

Martin nibbled away on his bottom lip as he scurried back to the front of the institute. The two men that waited for him perked up at his echoing footsteps. “Ah. Well it looks like our Archivist is no longer taking statements at the moment, “ sliding a drawer open he rooted around for a paper, “We do have these if you want to fill them out.”

“No longer taking statements?” The blond one echoed.

“Yes, that’s right, he’ll be back in the morning.”

“Listen it’d mean a great deal if we could see him now. I know the day has been long and over but just a few minutes of his time.” He stood up and pushed up his glasses making heavy eye contact with Martin who was wringing his hands.

“I am really sorry but this is the next best thing I have.” martin scooted the paper to the man.

The rather disheveled brown haired man groaned, “For the love of Eden, 5 minutes! Thats all we ask!” His voice was loud and startled Martin who put his hands up in defense.

–

with a small click the office door locked. Jon adjusted his bag on his shoulder and proceeded down the hall. As he appraoched the other side of the hall he heard voices going back and forth, one which was very distinctly Martin. Jon scrunched his face in both distaste and annoyance as he rounded the corner. “What the devil is happening here?!”

In front of his was a very flustered Martin and a blond man seeming to try to calm a brunette with a missing arm.

“And you are?” the brunette raised an eyebrow.

Jon cleared his throat, “Jonathan Sims Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute. Now let me repeat myself, what is happening here.”

“We are trying to come in and make a statement! But it seems you're too busy to see us.” the brunette put his hand on his hip. Jon remained silent as he studied the two men. to describe them politely Jon would lable them as just plain odd. Especially that brunette, something rather off with him. Genuinely looks like he had been to hell and back. Meanwhile the blond looked slightly more put together. Odd indeed.

The blond stepped forward, “ Listen, just a few minutes. Then we’ll be out of your hair.”

Jon grumbled and looked at his watch. To be completely honest he didn't have any plans tonight besides a good read and tea before bed. ahe did have one question though, “What makes this matter so pressing?”

“I just… I need answers. It doesn't make any sense.” The brunette looked down at his feet.

“Clearly what I been through was real,” He gestured to his arm,” But…”

Jon could tell how deeply this troubled the man. With an eyeroll and a sigh he waved the men on to his office. “Fine. I’ll take your statement. Martin, Some tea please. I do feel this is going to take longer than a few minutes.”

Martin nodded and rushed off. The office seemed smaller with the three men squished inside but with a little bit of shifting around everyone was situated. Jon set up the tape recorder and hit record, a slight whiring sound emmiting from the device. “Statement number 00015832 concerning a blood ocean was it?”

“Yes that's correct.”

“Statement taken direct from Subject.”

“Simon. My name is Simon. And this is Ryland, Doctor Ryland Grace.” Jon waved him on.