The Eight Amulets, Vol. 1

Chapter II - Temper

Allen McCarthy was a strict man, and an even stricter boss. Despite looking professional in his usual suit and tie, he was anything but with his short temper and common outbursts. And right now he was on the verge of beating his co-workers violently with the wand in his belt holding a brown leather belt.

He sat frustrated over ten TV screens, big and small in a dark room with "Department of Magic" framed inches to his left. Being brand new, the building was scarce of furniture or decorations.

The screens portrayed highways with innocent people passing by in cars, empty roads, fields, and most importantly two screens each documenting flames. One was buzzing with police cars, surrounding a burning Toyota car which had exploded previously. News cameras lingered around the burning car. Firefighters were working hard to eliminate the threat and shoo away news crews interrupting the search.

The second one was a small house with crooked pavement and shanty wooden plank walls, engulfed in red streaks of light. The moon had already set, so the fire was powerfully glowing as more firefighters tried to calm the raging fire. Smoke was prevalent and old seniors evacuated there cabins in violent coughing fits.

As he narrowed his focus on the calming flames, he heard someone barging into the room, and McCarthys temper raised again as the figure interrupted his inspection."What the hell did I tell you, Blitz? Knock before entering you little-" His English accent grew infuriated as he balled his fist and stomped over to the shadow. As he prepared to punch the ominous figure, a reflection of the TV illuminated the unknown man. He was skinny and frightened, placing his hands over his face to protect his head from the mildly angered Englishman.

"Sir it's me! Ivan Johnson of the presidential order!" Ivan called, bracing for the fist to dive forcefully into his glasses. The quiet that followed made Ivan realize that McCarthy wasn't going to gouge his eyes out- yet.

"Well uhm- what shall you need Ivan." McCarthy hissed. The way he spoke the word Ivan sent shivers down Ivan's back.

"Sir, we have intercepted news that Kraus is dead. His body was supposedly burnt with the car at around 8." Ivan informed quivering.

"I know that, you bloody knuckle-head." McCarthy barked, as he eyed the TV from the corner of his vision. "And refrain from calling me sir, you twat."

"Well, I'm afraid there is some bad news too." Ivan trembled as McCarthys eyes focused back to Ivan, narrowing them down. McCarthy was notorious for his anger and it wouldn't be a surprise if Ivan came out of the room harmed. He'd be lucky if he didn't end up dead.

"Spit it out. We don't have all day. I got a case about some runaway wizard family." McCarthy ordered sourly, his business suit crumbled in the midst of his rage. His finger pointed gingerly at the trembling man.

"Ahem- well as you know, we were aiming to retrieve Kraus' papers." Ivan was on the cusp of spewing turkey and cheddar sand which all over the freshly clean floors that riveted of cleaning surplus as McCarthys meaty hand grabbed hold of his associate menacingly. Motivated purely by evil, McCarthy picked up his scrawny 'friend' and feared his fist out.

"Keep on going, you sod. Why so scared?" Ivan's boss teased. But McCarthy and Ivan knew well why he was scared.

"They uhm- they didn't find the papers. The whole had been searched in sight of the papers, but unfortunately nothings turned up." Ivan spit it out, and the few moments of silence after were only foreshadowing and building up his bosses rage.

"They WHAT?" McCarthy denied Ivans word. Perhaps this was some communication mistake. They spent hours framing the scene of the explosion as a prepared murder from his senior wife hours away. It was a stretch, but the only optional resource for his murder was a wife avenging her husband for leaving her years ago, as they had no other relatives or friends they could get information on or even find. They erased evidence, made obvious hints towards the false suspect, and more just for a box of important papers.