I'm such a morning person. It's actually a little annoying. I can't for the life of me ever sleep past 5:30 am. I blame Ahab and always waking us up at the asscrack of dawn every single day, regardless of what day it was to watch the sun rise over the flag. So it is now 6:30 and here I sit, breakfast finished, showered and ready for my day. The ring of my phone startles me out of the newspaper I was reading.
"Hello?" I answer on the second ring.
"Agent Scully? Sorry to bother you so early. The Director would like to see you in his office promptly at 8am for a meeting."
A meeting? What could I possibly have done wrong? Since coming to the bureau it felt like I was always being watched, critiqued. I am a smart agent, a damn good agent. I know I had been hanging low in the bureau, doing everything asked of me.
I took one last swallow of my coffee, savouring the taste. Soon it would be mugs of burnt, oil-slick beverages that had sat in a pot that most likely had not seen a drop of dish soap in a decade. I set my mug in the sink, a habit becoming very ritualistic. Every single morning, the same faded mug from my graduation, in the same spot in my cold, steel sink. Maybe someday there would be two mugs in the sink, but highly unlikely. My life wasn't exactly one that seemed to fit a partner. Not one that wasn't in law enforcement anyways, as it's a life that not just anyone understands. And I have seen the mess of "men" around the bureau. If you can even call them men. Grown boys with guns was more like it, trying to overcompensate. I grabbed my purse and keys and locked the apartment door behind me. I really need to get a dog, or something. There had been two break and enters in my building the last few weeks. Maybe I'll check out one of the K9 agents, I could always just date him for the dog. Ugh, Dana, get ahold of yourself. I chuckle at the thought on my way down the hall.
My car sits in the exact same parking spot it has sat every morning for the last two years. It's door hinges squeak, almost like screaming "no, not anymore". I did feel bad for the poor car. She came to me third hand my first year of medical school. I had put more than my fair share of miles on her. Sadly I think it was becoming the end of her time here and I was going to need to add car shopping onto my never ending list of chores this weekend. A new car wasn't exactly in my budget, living on the joke of a salary I was making with the bureau.
I pulled into the parking garage and found my usual parking spot taken. I made a trip around and down to the bottom level. I had never parked here before. The darkness alone was enough to swallow your soul. It smelt stale, of cigarette smoke and the faint hint of ammonia, likely from urine. There was only one other car down here, not the most popular place to park I could guess. I grabbed my bag out of the back and double checked the locks on the door for good measure. Thankfully the elevator in was right beside my parking space so I didn't have to walk in this darkness for too long. I felt a chill wave over my body as I opened the door and I shuttered, the hairs on my neck standing on end. Someone was down there, watching me, I could feel their eyes burning into my soul. Get a grip Dana, there's no such thing as monsters. It's just your imagination, I said to myself as I hit the button for the lobby and the elevator doors began to shut.
"Hold the door!" I heard a voice yell, and a young man running towards the elevator caught my attention. I quickly hit the button but the doors were closed before I could. I heard a "shit" as they shut. Good work, now I looked like an ass. Oh well. The bureau is huge, and I don't generally spend time in this "area" of the parking lot, I would likely never see him again I thought to myself.
Oh how wrong I was…...