I knew something was up from the beginning. The unfamiliar name caught my attention as I scrolled through the job board. It seemed a new hotel would be opening nearby, and they were still hiring front desk attendants. I wasn't aware my city had enough tourism to afford a new hotel. The requirements listed under the job posting were...interesting, to say the least.

"Must be able to work nights and holidays" was fairly standard.

"Must possess a high level of integrity and discretion" wasn't as common of a point, but I supposed that if it was a fancier place with big-name clientele, they probably didn't want their business splashed all over the local tabloids.

"Must have a strong stomach, mind, and resolve" definitely brought some questions to mind related to the choice of wording. Those questions went out the window when I got the next rent invoice, and my car shat itself.

I took a bus to where the hotel stood on the outskirts of town, nestled into the countryside that was no doubt enjoyed by people who could afford this place. Fifteen-foot stucco walls enclosed the property, which struck me as out of place in a town like mine. The decor here tended to skew more toward decorative wrought-iron fences, or just wide-open, manicured lawn. Clearly the walls did their jobs- I couldnt remember ever seeing this place before. Even if it was new, I should've seen the construction from the road when I drove to my last job. I chalked it up to the paranoia of the senator's sons and celebrities that I assumed made up the customer base, and made my way to the desk.

My interview was handled by Sharee, a woman who seemed to be your every day, run-of-the-mill HR snake. She didn't stand from her desk when I entered, merely gestured to the chair across from her. I sat on my hands and tried not to come off as desperate.

"Hello Quinn, thank you for coming. Tell me about your experience in hospitality," she purred. There was something slippery about her voice, and the way it slid into your ears. What is it about HR managers that always makes you feel like you're stepping into a trap?

We discussed my limited experience in a hotel, and I played up the tasks I performed behind the desk. I'd only ever watched the front desk associates do check-ins while I was cleaning behind them, but she didn't need to know that. While I talked, I reminded myself to sit up straight, to make eye contact, to tell her the truth, to tell her everything about myself.

I blinked, and trailed off my somewhat rambling sentence into a weak "and, uhm, yeah." She doesn't need to know all of that. And besides, that was the truth. I did say my front-desk experience was limited, but I wasn't lying when I said I was familiar with the general expectations of the job!

"Well, Quinn, I'll be honest. I originally didn't want to list the position where you found it, but you seem like a strong candidate. If you'll head out to the door at the end of the hallway, the GM would like to have a brief chat to finalize the terms of employment."

Again, she didn't stand, she merely gestured with her hand towards the door. I followed her directions, and as I approached the door labeled "general manager" a cold weight formed in the pit of my stomach. I knocked, and touching the handle sent a winding vine of dread tangling around my lungs. What if they don't hire me? What will I do then?

I poked my head around the door and saw an older man in a sweater hunched over the desk, scribbling away onto some paper. He motioned me in, and I perched on the edge of the seat across from him, anxiety twisting every which way in my stomach.

"What manner of girl are you?" His voice gave the impression that he wasn't interested in mincing words, or that he might mince me if he didn't like the answer.

I decided to proceed with caution. "I'm afraid I don't understand the question, sir."

He dropped his pen onto the paper, and when I glanced towards the noise I realized the page was covered in odd symbols and glyphs. My eyes couldn't quite focus on them properly, and I blinked. I must be more tired than I thought. I looked closer, and it occurred to me that the paper wasn't manila as I'd previously thought. Is that vellum?

"I don't like to repeat myself, Quinn. Very few people actually find that listing, fewer still manage to find the building. You're the third applicant we've had, and the only one who made it through the initial interview with Sharee and also into my office. The last one pissed himself from fear as soon as he knocked on my door. Clearly, you must be something supernatural, but you've hidden it well. So what are you?"

I knew the pay they advertised was too good to be true. This guy had to be crazy. Maybe he was senile, maybe he was sundowning, maybe he ran a branch of the mafia if the threatening look he was shooting my way was any indication. No matter what the reason was, I got the distinct feeling that I wasn't safe here. The old man's dark eyes had become down right stormy, and as I searched them for answers I came to the terrible realization that his eyes weren't dark, they were black. As I watched, the black seemed to leech into his scleras, an inky pool expanding into a void and consuming the room around us.

A sharp rap sounded on the door behind us, and I closed my eyes. Turning towards the door, I saw Sharee again. The top half hadn't changed, but there was no desk to conceal the bottom half this time. Sharee's human torso balanced on the tail of a massive serpent, coiled around to fit into the space between the door and my chair. "Sir, I've got the contracts," she said, leaning forward to lay them on the desk in front of me. I glanced over the document stack, noting that the top sheet was an extensive NDA.

With Sharee behind me, and the front gate so far away, there was no running from this. I took another steadying breath, and tried de-escalation.

"I think there was a misunderstanding about the job and what I came here for. I'm so sorry to have wasted your time, but I think it's best if I go now." I made to stand, and the manager held up a hand. Behind me, Sharee positively giggled.

"That's quite impressive, keeping a straight face in a situation like this. A mere human, by the looks of it, but if you've made it this far then I'm quite sure you have some more hidden talents that may be of use. As it stands, your unusual reactions tell me I may not be able to completely remove this place from your memories, and we simply cannot have that. I am not in the business of drawing unnecessary attention with the bodies of mortals unfortunate enough to stumble onto my grounds, so I believe the most mutually beneficial answer here is to employ you."

My blood ran cold at the casual mention of my own murder, but I couldn't afford to panic while still in the lion's den. I stared at the papers in front of me rather than risk looking him in the eye again.

"And you learn quickly. I believe I am correct about your usefulness," he continued. "Have a look through the contract. We'll need to make some revisions given your mortality, but if you would like to negotiate any of the terms, Sharee will handle that. Make sure you're ready to commit to the terms outlined in it before signing, as I assure you it is is quite binding."