Help Me, Doctor

Chapter 2

"Yes, I'm here for the interview? Elliot Honing?"

The lady behind the counter smiled. "Yes, of course, dear." She handed a badge over the counter. "Mr Kiel will call you in when he'd ready for you." She nodded and took the badge, taking a seat in a small chair in the building's lobby.

It was a large corporate building, about 15 stories. The lobby was very modern looking, the walls a pale gray and the floor covered in shiny white tile. There were black leather arm chairs and a small glass table with a bowl of white mints in it. Elliot resisted the urge to take one.

Looking around the room, Elliot pulled off her gloves and slid them into her pocket. She took off her scarf, folding it neatly in her lap.

She knew the odds of her getting this job was slim. She was barely old enough to be working. Sure it was only a secretary job, but there were better, older, people who could do it so much better than she could. But she got an interview, and that was always a good sign.

Nervously, she picked at her fingernails. It had been a nervous habit she'd developed years ago, not long after her parents died. There had been a lot of people that day. And the rest of that week. So many people, so many questions.

“Miss Honing?”

Elliot snapped out of her trance, looking up. A man stood in front of her, his too-thick eyebrows knit together in what appeared to be worry. His bright blue eyes sparkled like light reflecting off of a lake.

She stood, smoothing out her skirt. “Sorry, just a little out of it.” She extended her pale hand. “Elliot Honing. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Kiel."

Mr Kiel smiled warmly, his thin lips meeting together loosely as he took her hand and shook it. “Please, call me Eric.” He released her hand, gesturing down a narrow hallway, the walls lined with numbered doors. “Come with me, please.”

Elliot nodded and followed behind him. Her heart was beating faster than she had realized and she wasn't sure if it was the thought of the interview or something else. Her stomach was in knots, pulling and squeezing, doing everything it could to tell her 'stop, danger!'

'Just nerves,' she thought, taking a deep breath. She walked behind Eric, glancing up and counting the door numbers. 23, 24, 25, 26...

When they reached door 32, Eric reached forward and opened the door, gesturing inside. “Ladies first,” he said with that same warm smile. Elliot smiled tightly and walked in.

She sat down in front of the desk, shrugging her coat off onto the back of the chair. She wore a plain white tank top underneath of a black cardigan. She pulled the sleeves of her sweater over her hands out of a nervous habit.

“So,” he said, taking a seat at his desk. The table top was littered with a random assortment of objects; papers, paper clips, single staples, an empty coffee mug, a rubix cube. She guessed she may have to clean it if she got the job. “You'd like to be a secretary?”

Elliot nodded, trying to swallow down the lump that was beginning to form in her throat. “Yes, well, money's really tight for me at the moment, and my current job is barely scraping me by.”

“Do you live with your parents.”

“No, sir."

“Family member?”

“No, sir.”

“Friend?”

“No, sir, it's only me.” She pulled at her sleeves. “I have a basement apartment.”

Mr Kiel frowned, leaning back in his desk chair. “Just you?” He asked. “Do you go to school?”

“Um, so sir, I don't have the money.” She looked down at her hands, picking at her jagged nails. “That's why I need this job.”

He nodded. “You're a very troubled person,” he said. “Aren't you?” He held his hand out to her. “May I see your hand?"

Elliot looked up, hesitantly placing her hand into his. Hers was small and pale in comparison to his. She was shaking, making it obvious how nervous she really was. She wasn't sure why, she'd had tons of interviews before this one.

Eric's eyes closed, as well as his hand around hers. “Oh yes...” Elliot shuddered as a chill shot down her spine. “You are a very troubled person.” His eyes snapped open, suddenly violet irises drilling into her head.

Her chest squeezed, seeming to block her airways. She heaved, trying to scream or make some sort of call of distress, but nothing came out. Black spots danced across her vision as she found herself slowly losing consciousness. She could see an evil grin on his lips, purple lines spreading from his eyes like little cracks in his face.

A wheezing breath escaped her lips before her eyes fluttered and she swayed and feel from the chair. She barely saw the door swing open by a figure in white converse before she passed out.

==========

The Doctor sipped at his tea, one leg crossed over the other. It was such a lovely day. He couldn't imagine anything possibly going wrong.

Though, he found himself thinking, there was that strange Elliot girl from earlier. She was so young, 15 only, and applying for a job. She seemed to be very defensive when it came to her personal life. From what the Doctor could tell, it was just her all alone.

He shrugged, continuing to drink his tea. The cafe he was in was quiet, only a few other people, though almost no one spoke. A few read, others typed away at their computers. The Doctor just looked out the window at the sky, the cars passing on the street...the snow falling...the warm...snow.

The man jumped up from his seat, knocking his chair over behind him. Tea spilled out over his cup. All eyes turned to look at him. Slowly, he placed the cup down and reached for his chair. “Sorry,” he apologized, setting his chair back to where it was. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat, looked around, then bolted out of the shop.