1. P R E V I O U S L Y : On "ZooPhobia"

CHAPTER I

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The grandfather clock's pendulum swung back and forth rhythmically, corresponding with the rain as it pattered on the window panes to create an almost hypnotic effect.

A young, pale woman lay on a therapist's couch, her red-orange hair cut short and held in place by a black headband. A light smattering of freckles covered both cheeks—a feature that, when combined with her red hair, had made her the subject of countless stereotypical "ginger" jokes.

"I had that dream again..."

The therapist—a tiny elderly woman—looked up from her notepad in surprise.

"It was so vivid this time," the younger woman whispered. She opened her mouth as if to say more, but instead closed it and glanced at the therapist.

"Hm. Perhaps your upcoming job assignment played a part in that?" the therapist suggested, gesturing with her pen.

"Maybe," the younger woman admitted. "But why that dream? I haven't had it in so long..." Her voice trailed off, and she finished quietly, "It was just so... unexpected."

"Mm-hm." The therapist wrote something down in her notepad.

"It was like reliving the whole thing!" the woman went on, sitting up on the couch. "And bringing back all those memories..." She looked off to the side and swallowed hard. "I mean," she went on, turning back to the therapist, "I've been stressed out lately, but I've never had that dream so suddenly."

The therapist cleared her throat and adjusted her sitting position. "Well, dear," she began, "it sounds to me like—"

Suddenly, the patient caught a glimpse of the grandfather clock out of the corner of her eye. "OH! Oh my god, I'm late!" she cried, leaping to her feet. Clasping her hands together, she told the therapist graciously, "Thank you so so SO much for listening, Mrs. Winkler!" She grabbed her bag, dashed toward the door, and called over her shoulder, "Wish me luck!" before bursting out into the rain, yelling, "TAXI!"

-

Bzzzzzt.

The woman at the desk didn't even look up as the intercom on her wall let out a long buzz. "Ms. KayCee," the voice on the other end said, "the 12 o'clock is here. ...Late."

Unbothered (and still not looking up), KayCee replied, "Send her in."

The door to the office flew open, revealing a rain-soaked redheaded woman—not that KayCee noticed, since she was still focused on her paperwork. "I'm so sorry I'm late!" the woman apologized.

"Come in," KayCee muttered distractedly, not realizing that the woman was already in the room.

The woman closed the door behind her. "I, uh... lost track of time," she apologized.

"It's quite—"

KayCee paused as she finally looked up. A strange expression crossed her face—one of surprise mixed with recognition. "...alright..." she finished slowly.

The woman squirmed beneath KayCee's stare. "It's, heh... r-raining outside," she stammered, jerking a thumb over her shoulder.

"Take a seat, please," KayCee told her curtly, reassuming her robotic demeanor.

The woman quickly sat down.

"So let's discuss your placement with this program," KayCee said, adjusting some papers on her desk.

"Again, so sorry for being late," the woman repeated in a contrite tone.

"It's alright," KayCee reassured her. Then she narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing the young woman, who began to squirm again.

After a moment, something seemed to click in the woman's eyes, and she asked, "Do... I know you from some—"

"Yes," KayCee interrupted. Yes, you do, she thought, smiling inwardly but keeping her stony expression on the outside.

KayCee leaned forward slightly, making the young woman lean back. They remained like that for a while before KayCee finally relaxed in her chair and lifted her notepad.

"Well," she said, "looking at your report and resumé, I wasn't able to find a suitable position for you. We don't seem to have a vacant job here with need of your skills. I'm afraid there is not much I could do—"

"PLEASE!!" the young woman suddenly blurted, lunging forward onto the desk with her hands clasped together. "I really need this job! I have been waiting for an assignment for SO long! There HAS to be something!!"

KayCee blinked, feigning surprise at the woman's desperation. She put on a sympathetic expression and glanced at her notepad as a bolt of lightning split the sky outside, briefly illuminating the office. "Well..." she began again, tracing a finger along a line of text on her notepad. Then she looked up and asked, "You do have a degree in counseling, do you not?"

"Yes! I do!" the young woman replied quickly, her voice pitching with eagerness and hope. She reassumed her begging position, irritating KayCee slightly as she cried, "I'll take it! Please!"

"It's a transfer position," KayCee warned. "It would require relocation." C'mon, honey, she thought, struggling to suppress a smirk. Take the bait.

"I'll take it!" the young woman declared, planting her hands on the desk and leaning forward. "Wherever it is, I'll take it!"

Thattagirl.

"Very well, then," KayCee sighed, circling the words "Guidance Counselor" on her notepad. "A private jet will take you from this building on Thursday at 9 o'clock." She looked up and added ominously, "I suggest you pack all your things."

"YES!" the woman exulted, grabbing KayCee in a hug, genuinely startling the other woman. "Oh, yes, THANK YOU!"

KayCee's eye twitched, but she managed to maintain her façade. "Don't be late," she grumbled.

"Oh, I won't," the woman promised, quickly releasing KayCee. "Thank you so much!"

"You are quite welcome, Ms. Walden," KayCee responded halfheartedly, repositioning an apple on her desk.

"Oh! Call me Cameron!" the woman told her, opening the door. "Thanks again!" she called as she exited the room.

-

A slow smile crossed KayCee's face, and she began to chuckle as the storm outside seemed to intensify. "Oh, no, Miss Cameron..." she purred as her false form fell away, revealing the demonic, yellow-skinned wraith that lay beneath.