“I handle living documents.” Alexander started when Caldwell approached him that morning. She nodded with a soft smile.

  “We aren’t going to be using the basement. Your coworkers aren’t stupid enough to mosey about this place.” She paused. “You just happen to be the most centrally located space we have here on campus. With enough seating to host this kind of meeting. We will be out of your hair in no time.”

  He went to argue but paused. She was right. It did make the most sense to use this space for a meeting involving everyone on campus. He hoped she was also right that his coworkers weren’t stupid enough to touch things they knew nothing about. Or travel into spaces that could possibly take them out permanently.

  The college campus had several smaller libraries. They each were a specialized library covering things in the supernatural world. Donations typically came from organizations that felt it necessary their specialty have a special little research library on campus. Whether they were needed or not, Alexander couldn’t say. Nor did he really care about the other libraries. His library was filled almost to the brim with things that could negatively impact the world around them. His work was significant to him and the world; he could argue this and win. But he simply had no energy to do so.

  He had spent the night silencing a possessed record player and finding the proper place to store it in the basement where, if it happened to start up again, no one would be possessed. An hour later, he had a knock on the library doors—three young women and four young men with rolling carts covered in things for the meeting.

  “Today?” He grumbled at her staff. They didn’t answer but rolled on by.

  Caldwell’s staff started at seven in the morning, setting up the decoration, tables covered in breakfast foods, and three giant containers of coffee. Alexander followed behind them, collecting donuts, a sausage roll, some type of egg casserole thing, and filling up a mug with coffee. He sat away from the chaos that was pouring into his library and ate silently, watching.

  As the time ticked closer, the building was buzzing with conversation, movement, and light music from the podium. She had the projector screen pulled down with a laptop open and ready to present. When it hit 9 am, Caldwell turned the music off and walked up to the podium.

  “Good morning." She started warmly. A polite pause to allow the audience to respond, “Oh, I’m sure I could get better than that!”

  Staff more inclined to positively respond to that did so. Alexander was on his third cup of coffee and eyeing the table with the coffee cakes. A lady who didn’t come with the carts came by handing out papers. She had more pep in her step than anyone he had ever noticed before. She gave him a gentle smile as she handed him the papers. She then stood there an awkward amount of time before moving on to the next coworker a few seats away.

  It was titled Town and Gown Initiative. Something that was more than likely hidden free labor for something that he had zero interest in helping with. The best strategy in these situations was to remain quiet and allow the overachievers to take the steering wheel. He had enough on his plate—but not those coffee cakes. Not yet anyway—

  Someone, one of the overachievers, with a warm and bright voice that carried throughout the room. An annoyingly genuine flow went through. He wasn’t paying attention enough to hold onto everything being said. Due to free food in the library. To be honest, as he sat there, she would have had an easier time with this had she just told him there was going to be free food.

  He came back to the reality around him, watching people around politely nodding along with whatever was being said. More than likely, like him, they were relieved that someone picked up the initiative and they didn’t have to add more to their plate.

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  He leaned forward a little to get a better look at the speaker. A younger man, younger than most of the faculty—if he was solely human, unlike many members on staff. Styled hair, with neat curls at the edges as if they were slowly winning.

  The man’s expression was open and animated, his eyes bright in a way that he was sincere in the idea of whatever this collaboration would entail. The man smiled warmly as he continued on with whatever was being said.

  Alexander did not trust him. No one should be that cheerful, excited, or remotely awake enough to care about committee work.

  Alexander glanced back down at the papers, prepared to completely ignore the meeting. Not that he was fully committed to listening to what was being said to begin with. Something about inviting locals to share stories about the town’s history. Oral history, community archives, some kind of exhibit in the end.

  Okay, that’s not a bad idea. Though his work focused on curses and possessions, there was still something said about local history. Most people, whether they knew it or not, were always in some way connected to the supernatural.

  He missed whatever the president said, but the guy laughed heartily at whatever was being said. Everyone else followed suit as well.

  He leaned a little more, trying not to be obvious with it but he wasn’t sure he was succeeding with a few glances in his direction.

  The man had the slightly sun-warmed look of someone who spent a lot of time outside. Relaxed and navigating conversation at this meeting with ease. Definitely a human or some type of shifter; those tended to be more extraverted and inclined to participate in whole group activities. Not that Alexander wasn’t human, but he would be surprised if any other species on campus would have any interest in it this way.

  Shifters and humans had a long history in this area, and it would make sense to want to do a local historical record. If he were faculty, he'd probably be a recent hire that I never saw at any of her first-of-the-year get-togethers.

  Alexander pulled his attention back to what he was really interested in—the coffee cakes. They were barely touched, and they weren’t there when he got up to get his last cup of coffee. It all looked homemade—there must have been an email sent out requesting people to bring or make homemade items that he missed. Or deleted.

  He stood up, and loud applause erupted around him.

  “Alexander!” cheered Caldwell, “I am pleasantly surprised how quick you were to volunteer with this initiative!”

  Alexander stared at the president, frozen, slowly registering what was being said around him.

  “I am just going for the—" Alexander started, but she was rambling on her thanks and asking for more volunteers. This seemed to have ended the meeting as everyone around him stood up, some patting his back in condolences—or congratulations, now that they were off the hook.

  While everyone exited from the many doors. Some grabbing a treat on the way, Alexander made his way to the coffee cakes, but the young lady in the nice business casual suit ushered him up toward the president. The girl this time left with the biggest smile at him and a small wave before moving along with those who carted the food in.

  “I don’t know how to thank you," the young man said, offering his hand.

  "Don't," Alexander said, ignoring the hand. The young man let his hand drop. They both faced the school’s president. She radiated as a very hopeful grandma who had many plans, and Alexander was worried about what he just got himself into.

  “Don’t worry Alexander. Once established, we’ll be able to rotate you out with someone who doesn’t look like I’m trying to kill them.” She cackled at her own joke, “There will be more meetings, more committees being built by staff. Based on social media, we’re getting pitchfork vibes from locals, and I would rather not have a repeat of the first year we were established.”

  “There is no record of—" the young man started.

  “We made certain it was only archived as a school fire from one of our labs.” Alexander responded. The young man nodded.

  “This is such a great decision!” President Caldwell gently slapped Alexander’s shoulder before heading off.

  This is a terrible decision.