My Servant Is An Elf Knight From Another World

Chapter 415: The Impostor in the Room, Part

The office door swung open, and it wasn’t one of those gentle creaks like the wind would do, or even those normal swings like how normal people do it every day – this door blasted wide open, like a hurricane just billowed on through.

Yet instead of a mighty force of nature swirling inwards, in marched a pair of slender heels, certainly clacking aloud with enough force to mistake it as a force of nature, and looked as if we caught this particular tornado in a bad time, the deep sunken pockets under her eyes, the unhealthy pale pigment of her skin – it’s barely been a full day since I saw her last, and yet Irene looked as if she’s lived on for a lot longer span of time than that.

I remembered rising to my feet at once, standing, snapping to attention – probably because of some innate instinct adhered from my school days. Irene right then looked too much like a stern principal walking in, ready to admonish the troublemakers causing a stir.

“Irene...” I called out to her, but she wasn’t listening to me one bit, to the point where I wasn’t even spared a brief glance. Her eyes intensely searched her office space until she settled upon the dark figure lazily perched atop her desk, with legs swinging languidly in the air.

“A glare? Really?” Amelia spoke, very nearly with a smirk accompanying her words. “Oh, I do wonder whatever it is I have done to incur such bitter feelings towards me.”

“How about not doing as I said?” Irene quickly glanced back through the open door, before just as quick slamming it close with the swipe of a hand that did not reach. “How about not holding your tongue when you should?”

A snort manifested her smile to fully form, peeking her fangs ever so slightly. “O ye of little faith, aren’t you?”

.....

“This isn’t supposed to... you know, I have enough on my plate as it is, without you – ”

“Irene,” I said a little firmer, a little louder, and this time I attracted her attention, and as an added plus, her scary-looking expression too. “You expect a secret like the one you’re keeping to last that long?”

“If it stops you from wanting to pry, I have to try,” She said, ending with a sigh. “Guess I didn’t try enough.”

“Amelia didn’t tell me anything. I had to find out for myself. The hard way too.”

“Did you now?” To the smirking Matriarch, her eyes trailed off again, only to return to mine, not as stern. “Alright, how?”

“You’re asking me that,” I searched her all over. “You don’t have your phone?”

“No.”

“Where is it?”

“Nevermind my phone,” She said in a tone not to be tested. “I’m quite busy at the moment, busier than I usually am, alright? I didn’t expect you to come all this way for me, but since you did, it must be important, right? It is important, right?”

“Jay,” I said, and that was all I needed to say, a single word, a single name, and at once, she understood everything. “Yesterday,” I continued. “At the mall, Ash, me, and my sister... out of the blue, said hi, mentioned you... said something about a friend of his too... know anything about it?”

From her sudden expression turning grim alone, I could tell she did, and much more than I thought she did too.

“He showed?” For some reason, Irene turned to Amelia once more for affirmation, and for an even stranger reason, the vampire, quietly, gleefully gave a chuckle in response.

“Ah, to see the look on your face made all the annoyances of the journey here worthwhile, I daresay I am now content,” She replied, scratching her desk with her nails the same inattentive way she did my porch, I guess it was a habit of hers. “But this is promising news, no? In spite of everything, whatever it is you’ve done so far seems to be a fruitful venture all along.”

“He showed. He showed, but didn’t approach me? He came to you,” Irene’s brows furrowed, and seemingly just disappeared off into her own world. “He should know you’re not involved, why did he involve you then? Does he want you to know? But that should be the last thing he wants, so why? I don’t understand.”

“To try and unveil a madman’s intentions is to be a mad one yourself,” Amelia said, listening to her mutters with that same impish smile. “Do you not have other more current matters to tend to now?

Oh, all these buzzwords being strewn and tossed so carelessly about, implying so much and yet saying so little... oh, I just love the vagueness of it all, so perfect. Can someone just please give a straight answer?

“Sister...” Adalia softly spoke, my confusion mirroring hers in the slight slant of her head. “What... are you... hiding... from us?”

“Coming off a little foreboding, aren’t I?” Amelia shifted to her with an apologetic stare. “Dearly sorry about that, Adalia... but that isn’t really my question to answer.”

Suddenly all eyes were on Irene now, and there was nowhere she could turn without finding another’s gaze into hers. She looked troubled, reluctant, but she also looked knowing that she’s with no other choice now but to answer.

I heard her sigh, saw her eyes lose their intensity, then parting open thinned lips, she said, “Jay’s – ”

“Detective? Are you in there?” There was a hard rapping on the door, one that didn’t stop even after those words, instead persisting on and on as much as the voice behind those knocks, “I know you said don’t move, but I need your help again, do you mind?”

The door then swung slowly ajar, and everything happened at once. I spun my neck towards the sound and as I did, I saw Amelia jumping off Irene’s desk, and in a blur I barely caught, glided towards her sister who curiously poked her head forward the same as I to see who it was approaching.

A man strode into the room, a very gruff, very weathered-looking man, his eyes glued to the phone he had held with both hands, and from the sound of it, hearing faints beeps and boops in rhythm with every tap of his finger, it sounded like he was playing some sort of game.

“I got the same task again like the other round just now,” He told Irene, weathered creases on his forehead forming along with his frown. “I forgot again, which color is yellow? These wires are tricky.”

Irene peeked over at the screen, pointed a finger, and quickly muttered, “There, yellow.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” It took me a moment, but it came, the realization, the familiarity, with every step I took closer. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

The man spun his whole body towards me in a sort of awkward shuffle, waddling his feet, and that’s when I noticed something else too, the phone in his hand, the casing – that’s Irene’s. Why does he...?

“No, I don’t know you,” He told me simply. “Maybe yesterday, I did. Or some other days before. Today, not so much, though, sorry.”

The hell does that even mean? No, no, more importantly, despite what he just claims, fact was, I did know him... from somewhere, from some time, I... his rugged complexion... his wrinkled clothing... the scars on his wrists... oh, fuck...

“Nick’s Dad?” I said, barely believing what I’ve even just said. “Last night, Harry, right? We met! We did meet! At the cafe! W-what are you doing here?” I turned immediately left, and in Irene’s hazel eyes, I saw myself gaping back at me. “What is he doing here?”

“Hmm,” He turned back to the display, all regards towards swiftly non-existent. “Wasn’t me you met.”

“Wasn’t you I – what?”

“Oh, shoot, wait,” Harry did another waddle. “The pink one is – ?”

I don’t understand. There was no way I was mistaking him for someone else. There was no mistaking that stature, that beard, how uncanny his resemblance was to Nick. He had his eyes for fuck’s sake, and yet... why does he sound so sure? ????????????re????d. ????????????

“This one’s pink, here,” Irene said calmly, sparing me only a quick glance before addressing him once more. “Actually, take a seat over there by the desk while you’re here. Don’t leave, don’t move. Listen this time.”

“Sure, sure, no problem,” Harry nonchalantly complied, and began to clumsily shamble over to an empty chair nearby. “I think the battery’s dying by the way.”

What was I seeing, what was I hearing? Nick and Hayley’s father, here... just why, what? With Irene? And just what the hell’s going on with him? Something felt off about his... well, everything. His cadence, his mannerisms, his movement – nothing about it came smooth, or natural... or human even...

Jay said something about a friend, that Irene was pestering him. Oh God, don’t tell me this friend is supposed to be...

“You just don’t give up, do you now?” Amelia spoke out, emerging out from the corner, and taking my seat beside her sister. “In time, I believed you’d come to your senses and do what you should have done since the very beginning. But if you wish, and if you would allow... I will be glad to take upon the need myself.”

“Oh, killing me, you mean?” Harry piped up from his chair without even glancing up from his game. “Yes, that does sound like the reasonable action to be done, but for some reason she would rather waste time wasting time. It’s really weird, Jay told me she was smart. She doesn’t seem like it.”

I couldn’t stand it anymore, I went up to Irene, inches from her face, all my reservations out the window, “What the hell is going on, Irene?”

Once again, Irene gave a quick swipe of her hand, and the office door slammed shut – this time with a resounding click for extra measure. I almost pitied her, she didn’t look like she even knew where to start – but my desperation outweighed my sympathy.

“The place I work, my manager, y’know him, y’saw him? My boss too? The girl?” I whispered breathlessly, pointing a finger at Harry, trying to restrain my trembles. “That’s their father! Do they – what is – ? What does he have to do with... whatever the hell this is? I can’t go to work, look at them in the eye, knowing that their Dad is involved with – ”

Irene shook her head, interjecting as she did. “That’s not their father.”

I didn’t think I could get even more flabbergasted, but from the way I was stammering, stuttering, I don’t think I even knew where my limits were. “Not their – what? No, what do you mean not their father? Who the hell is that then sitting there playing with your phone? Who is he?”

“Putting it in simple, magical terms,” She said, beginning an explanation that would no doubt continue stretching these limits of mine for some time to come. “He’s Jay.”