Hailey Bell once believed anything was possible as long as you had an idea, some hope, a means to do it, and maybe just a little bit of some of the suspernatural. Here and there, that thought popped into her head. She waved it off, though, like it was never a phrase in the first place. Her mother used it frequently. After she died, however, Hailey decided to hide away from all things of her. It was simply too painful to keep. Sadly, she couldn’t be rid of memories. They came and went as they wished, but she _could_ distract herself.

Her job was an affective way to keep herself busy. It’s hard to explain, but her work included observing new species—horrifying creatures of death and disease—that the rest of the world knew nothing about. It was safer that way. If one knows too much, they tend to lose their wits. So she was perfectly content with secret-keeping, even from those she loved. Hailey understood the casualties, she was well acquainted with them.

Only moments ago, she was closely scrutinizing a monster with a rather take-backish appearance. The image of it stuck to her mind. It was so much taller than her. Stack two, fully grown humans straight on top of each other (though I wouldn’t advise it) and one might begin to get the feel of the extreme height of the thing. Of course, scientists working in the lab couldn’t exactly get it to stand without it crumbling to the floor—it was very much dead. But they did, however, keep it on their table to find that its long limbs couldn’t fit onto the table all the way.

They could only assume it was dead. Here’s the rather peculiar thing: the creatures had no heart beat, yet its chest rose and fell. Hailey and the rest of the crew weren’t even sure if it even _had_ a heart. Absurdities such as that wouldn’t be so out-of-the-ordinary.

Hailey quickened her feet along the polished tile. Windows upon windows upon windows, to her left. She took a right down another hall, leaving the bright morning sun into nearly equally as bright of a hallway with many doors. Doors with numbers, with labels. Some contained deceased creatures. Mostly, they were used for storage. Many of the scientists lived there—this type of job required one to work late, and it was easier getting to their destination when it lie only four floors below them.

Miss Bell was headed to her office. She didn’t live their, but she was at least obligated to possess some sort of dignified place to store her findings and reports. Plans changed, though. The key card hanging from her neck had begun to blink red. Their are different colors and meanings for each one.

Blue = assistance is needed

(A voice usually played over the intercom throughout the building, telling you which floor and laboratory to go to.)

Yellow = some sort of chemical leakage

White = board meeting

Green = assembly meeting

Red = red, can mean two things: one, that a specimen has escaped, or two, the director wishes to speak to you

Of course, Hailey knew it wasn’t the first one. The intercom had assured her of that, but for a moment her heart had skipped a beat. It had only happened once—an escaped creature. She hadn’t been working there at the time, but when she was finally accepted into the great field of horrifying scientific discovery, along with their unexpected chain of secrets, she’d heard stories.

Now wasn’t the time to dwell on such things, though.

She stopped, finally, at a brown door with a golden handle. The label read:

_Room#22237_

_“Director Alexander Boff’s Office”_

__

She took a deep breath, fixed her stance and lifted her hand to knock politely. It’s not everyday the director speaks to an employee face to face. Hopefully she hadn’t done anything wrong. Surely that couldn’t be it.

“Do enter, Miss Bell.”

Her hand stoped short at the muffled tone. This would be her first time ever seeing the infamous Mr Boff. She twisted the handle and stepped inside.

“Ah, welcome,” the man said.

The office was the largest one in the building, no doubt. Bookshelves and all sorts of different novels and dictionaries very precisely ordered. A blue carpet that changed into polished marble towards the grand desk. Couches, chairs, and a coffee table.

She wasn’t exactly sure what to expect. But she knew it wasn’t this. The room was so…modern? Admittedly, she’d expected it to hold golden statues and framed diagrams on the walls. Instead, there were posters of bands and anime shows. It looked as though the room belonged to teenage boy.

Then her eyes drifted from around the room, to the great window behind the desk, finally fixating on a rather young man seated in its chair. His leg was carelessly propped on the expensive wood. He wasn’t even wearing work-appropriate shoes. They were blue and yellow and white with tassels undone. At least he had enough decency to wear a collared shirt. It was half unbuttoned, though and there was no tie to be seen.

Oh, wait…

She looked to the floor and rose a brow. There it was, hanging off the arm of his pearly white sofa. It was as though he’d pulled it from his neck and mindlessly thrown it across the room.

He was watching her very closely when she turned her attention back to him. This boy must’ve known she was judging him harshly. It’s not like she was trying to hide it.

He couldn’t be much older than she.

“Should Mr Boff be coming soon?” she questioned, hesitantly sitting on one of the chairs infront of the large desk. Now this boy was laughing at her. This wasn’t a very professional way of greeting someone.

There was a certain, deep melody to the laugh that made her stomach flip—in a good way, of course. Or was it bad?

“Who do you think I am?”

“Forgive me, but…” she looked him up and down slowly. Then meeting his crystal eyes once more. His chestnut hair was also unkept. “I wasn’t aware Mr Boff had a son.”

There was that unnecessary laugh once more. He finally stopped and smiled, removing his foot from the desktop, and crossing it over his leg. “I’m Mr Boff, Miss Bell, and I’m afraid I have no son—I’m only twenty-three.”

He was a year older than her.

Heat rose to her cheeks in clear embarrassment. “Oh,” was all she could manage.”

“I’ve summoned you here to share a quick chat.” Mr Boff, who looked more like a high school jock, leaned in and clasped his hands together, resting his elbows on the wooden surface. “About the latest specimen.”

“We have many new specimens, Mr Boff. Can I ask for clarification?”

“Number 999, to be exact, Miss Bell.” He slapped a picture of the thing right before her. “And no need for such formative speaking. Call me Alexander.”

She ignored the other half and picked up the picture.

There it was again—long arms and white eyes. But she nearly dropped it when she looked behind the creature to see a bloody hand. That’s when she realized it wasn’t lying on the lab table. It was standing upright. And blood trickled from its mouth as it stared directly into, what she could only assume to be, a camera. “I don’t understand…”

He drew another picture from his drawer. “That was from about an hour before you came here; this one was taken only three minutes from when you walked through my door.”

All blood seemed to run cold throughout her body. “You mean to say that—”

“Yes, Hailey—can I call you Hailey?—specimen 999 is very much alive, sorry to say.”

“That’s simply impossible—”

“Improbable—”

She shook her head. “999 had no heart beat. We were even certain he didn’t have one.”

“_Almost_ certain, I’m afraid. You see, it did have a heart, the conniving devil. What it did, was shrink it so small it wasn’t visible to your little gadgets and computers.”

“_Your_ gadgets and computers,” I correct. “And that’s just as equally impossa—”

“Nothing is quite as improbable as it seems at first, Hailey. I would’ve thought that your two years of experience could’ve shown that much to you, at least. Well, if you haven’t figured it out now, I suppose I’ll break the news.” He cleared his throat. “Miss Bell, I’m afraid you’ve been witnessing, first hand, what you call the _impossible, _the moment you signed up here. Now, _I’m_ calling Specimen 999 ‘Trevor,’ and we need to exit the premises before we become his next victims.”

Hailey had so many questions swirling through her head, but the one she couldn’t seem to resist asking, was “Why _Trevor_?”

Alexander Boff grabbed his umbrella, coat, and fixed his hair, before shrugging. “He reminds me of my old Great Uncle Trevor.”

_How unserious_.

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