Miriam's Midnight March

It all began with a letter.

I was sitting at my desk, staring at a blank piece of paper, when the letter arrived in my mailbox. The envelope was thick and dark brown, and the thinnest bit of light slipped through the slit in the back. I turned it over in my hands, feeling the smooth, blank surface.

"Well," I said to myself. "Now you've done it."

I tore open the letter and withdrew the contents: a single piece of heavy cardstock, embossed with an elaborate logo on one side and barely legible scribbling on the other.

"Hello Miriam Armas," it read. "We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected as one of our finest associates. We would like you to be part of our team who takes care of some serious matters which are more than common these days. This job is not for everyone but we believe that you have what it takes to perform this task." There was a brief pause before the next sentence, as if someone had wanted to add something else but thought better of it. "You will be provided with everything necessary for your work and you will be paid a sum given only to those who deserve it. You will be contacted soon for further information." And then a final line, hastily scribed in by hand so that it was nearly unreadable: "Remember! You are being watched!"

The rest of the day passed slowly. I tried to work on my dissertation about Lagorondian folklore, but found myself distracted by thoughts of what exactly I might be getting myself into if I agreed to take this mysterious job offer - or worse, what would happen if I didn't take it. That night, I lay awake in bed thinking back to my recent trip abroad and remembering how I'd met Dr. Rocha and his team - they had seemed like such nice people... But then again... What did I really know about them? Or this job? For all I knew I could be walking right into some kind of trap... But then again... Maybe not...

The next morning, I received another letter. This time, there was only one word written on it: "Yes."

It made me feel absurdly relieved - after all, what choice did I have now? Some unknown force had chosen me for this task; whatever consequences awaited me couldn't possibly be worse than whatever would happen if I refused their offer. So instead of wondering whether or not to accept their offer - because now it was no longer an option - I began to wonder about what exactly this job entailed. The wording used in the letters had been intentionally vague; whoever had written them wanted me to make up my mind without any prior information whatsoever - as if they wanted me to rely on instinct alone as opposed to rational thought... So that's what I did: I packed my bags and flew over to Europe without giving much more thought than that to my decision.

When I arrived in Lagorond, however, things got even stranger: there were no taxis waiting outside the airport terminal; nor were there any rental cars available at the car rental place (and no one knew why); even the buses stopped running once nightfall came around; and finally - worst of all - there were no hotels anywhere nearby (nor did anyone seem willing/able to tell me where they were located). Instead, two men approached me casually as I waited for a bus at the bus stop outside the airport terminal clumsily disguised as a park bench; both wore sunglasses despite being indoors at night, and neither spoke a word while they led me away from wherever they had abducted me from (because surely they hadn't asked permission) and into a sleek black sedan parked nearby with its engine running quietly beneath a streetlight advertising Peugeot automobiles (but there weren't any Peugeots anywhere nearby). Just before we pulled away from where we'd parked, however, one of the men leaned over and whispered something into my ear: "If we're following you," he said carefully, "it means we're watching you."

That's when things began going wrong. As soon as he'd finished speaking those words into my ear, he slammed his foot down onto mine so hard that it broke through my shoe and caused blood to flow freely from beneath my toes onto his seat cushion below; then he ripped off his sunglasses so that he could glare deathly into my eyes so threateningly that tears immediately streamed from mine down onto his pants legs below; finally, he took off his jacket and tied it around my neck until all air vanished from within my lungs and darkness overcame my vision from within this swirling vortex pierced by two terrifying eyes whose gaze never ceased penetrating inside me so cruelly.

The next thing I remember is waking up face-down on top of a pile of cold bodies inside an alleyway somewhere within Lagorond itself between two buildings labelled "Avis Rent-a-Car" and "Peugeot Automobile Sales", panting