Messages: 6

John's phone started buzzing almost the instant he was teleported out of Mrs. Wentworth's office and he checked his watch. It was 12:10, fifteen minutes into the lunch break. He started walking towards the cafeteria, pressing his thumb into the button of his Pear™ phone to unlock it. He had six new messages, from three senders.

The first four were from Erica:

Erica C. (11:57): Hey dude where do you want to meet to get your bag back?
Erica C. (12:00): John?
Erica C. (12:06): Well if you want your stuff just meet me in the theaters set shop.
Erica C. (12:07): Oh and uh you might want to cancel any plans you have after school today. Sorry.

The remaining two were from unknown numbers, he checked them one at a time:

Unknown (12:08): Mr. Newman, you have come to our attention as a potential client. If you are interested in purchasing goods through our service or commissioning one of our brokers to sell anything of value you come across, please do not hesitate to contact us. As you were recommended by a VIP member, we are willing to offer you temporary VIP status. Sincerely, the Abyss Auction.

John wasn't sure what to make of the first message. He'd never heard of an 'Abyss Auction' before, but with the word abyss so prominently in their name he guessed it probably bought and sold items of a magical nature. Natural skepticism kicked in. If there were scammers in the real world, it wasn't unreasonable they existed in the magical world as well... but the message said he'd been recommended to their services by someone. As far as John knew, only Mrs. Wentworth and Erica were aware of his abilities.

He glanced back down the halls, to Mrs. Wentworth's office. Going back to ask her was probably a bad idea, and by the way she'd addressed him, it seem unlikely that she'd recommend him for anything... which left Erica. He'd ask her, and if she hadn't heard of them, he could probably ignore the message.

There was still one last text in his inbox, and when John clicked it open, lines of text ran across his screen. Whatever the message contained, his phone went black, and he cursed loudly. It had been a virus!

He pressed the power-button frantically in the hopes it'd bring back the data he'd probably lost and was surprised when it booted up normally. Almost normally. Instead of the standard fruit logo that he was used to, there was an image of an opened eye. John wasn't sure what to make of it, and his confusion only grew when the logo vanished. Every application was right where he'd left it. Nothing seemed to have been changed. There was even still a notification for a single unread message.

John opened it, hoping that this time nothing unusual would happen:

Danielle K. (11:59): Good day, Mr. Newman. Do not be alarmed, your phone is unharmed. I require your presence after classes today to clarify how you acquired certain information and resolve the security breach you represent. This attendance is not negotiable and non-compulsion will be treated as a threat to my person and safety. Please confirm a location to meet. This message is prime-encrypted, such that only the intended reader can perceive it.

The number automatically assigned itself as Danielle Kislev but the picture that accompanied it was undoubtedly that of Tricia Gorbachev.

This situation had to be what Erica referred to in her message, which was... actually a good thing now that he thought of it. He could ask her what exactly he'd done to deserve the threat and get some advice on how to handle Tricia. John sent a brief message to the berserker to apologize for his delayed response and that he was on his way.

Which left the looming threat. The most recent looming threat, he couldn't help but note. John wasn't one to believe in karma or anything, but that lack of belief was being heavily tested. Every time something seemed to be going well, he was thrown into greater and greater danger.

He pocketed his phone and hurried his pace, breaking out into a run the moment he hit the courtyard. It was unlikely that Tricia would be patient about him responding so if he was going to get Erica's help he needed to make it quick. Along the way, his phone buzzed, but he was too busy running to check it.

When he reached the back of the theater, John was severely out of breath and needed to take a minute to recover. It was agonizing. Just knowing that every second he wasted put him closer to whatever being a 'threat to Tricia's person and safety' meant.

I really, really need to figure out what Tricia can do... and Mrs. Wentworth... and Moira... and... fuck it, everyone.

He looked up as the door to the set-shop rattled open. Erica leaned out of it and asked, "Hey dude, you alright?"

"Erica! She's gonna kill me, I need your help!" John managed, through his gasps for breath.

"Who? Moira? Nah, she'll just make you sign something, and her old man'll try to intimidate you. There shouldn't be any problems, unless you were lying about not being a Cabal member or something..."

Moira? What is she talking about?

"Not her! Her!" John thrust out his phone at Erica and waited for her to read the message that was opened on it.

She took it from his hands and glanced down at the screen, before back at him with confusion.

"Why are you showing me a promotion for Globe of Battleart?"

It dawned on John; the 'prime encryption' the message had referenced meant that Erica probably couldn't even see the threat. He grabbed the phone back and searched through his contacts. If Tricia had installed her number into his phone, she might have overlooked the address book with her encryption. Sure enough, there she was under "K" for Kislev. He opened her bio and handed the phone back.

"Her. I don't know what I did, but she sent me a message about being a 'security breach' and encrypted it magically."

Erica glanced down at the image and sighed. She pulled out her own phone, typing a message into it, "You really know how to pick a fight. I'll see what's gotten her all worked up."

"You know Tricia?" John asked, regretting it instantly as Erica froze.

"Oh shit. First thing, that's not her name. It's Danielle Kislev. Danielle. Got it?"

John nodded.

"Second, yes. I know her, she's a... co-worker. Who takes her privacy very, very seriously. How'd you end up in this situation anyway?" Erica continued.

John gestured above his head, and Erica seemed to get the idea.

"Ah. I guess that makes sense. Probably should have warned you, some of us like to keep a few things secret." She looked at her phone and her sour expression worsened. "I'll see what I can do to help, but I doubt she'll let you off on my word alone. You should probably reply, and I'll see if I can get Moira to wait a bit on her deal."

John unlocked his phone and read the message that had appeared during his run:

Frank D. (12:13): Ur days are numbrd dick less.

Another threat, probably related to Erica mouthing-off at Vanessa earlier. In light of his circumstances, it was kind of funny how weak Frank's threat was next to Tricia-Danielle's; one of them could type out something coherent. He switched to the more imposing message and tried to think of what to say.

John N. (12:19): Danielle, right? Look, I'm sorry for getting your name wrong earlier, it won't happen again.

Less than twenty seconds after he sent the message, his phone pinged again. Damn, she was fast!

Danielle K. (12:20): Mr. Newman, your apology is noted but does not rectify the situation. Please speak with me in the programming lab after school. As stated before, compliance is mandatory. This message is prime-encrypted, such that only the intended reader can perceive it.

Reading the message, John couldn't help but feel that rather than angry, as he'd first guessed, that Danielle was afraid. Maybe she was. He could probably do a lot of harm by spreading her name around. It didn't lower the danger of the situation... but John was a bit surprised at how genuine his response was.

John N. (12:22): Sure. I'll be there as quickly as I can after theater, and I really didn't mean to startle you.

Erica wrapped up her messages about the same time that John did, though she seemed to have less success. She sighed and turned to him, "Sorry, the best I can do is keep Moira off your back for a bit, so you can talk to Danielle without her dragging you off to the manor. She's... well. She's kind of uptight, you know?"

"Hold on," John could now think, without Danielle's threat hanging over his head, and he had questions, "why does she need to drag me anywhere? What's going on?"

"Well, you remember what I said about working for the Order of the Golden Rose?"

The one that Mrs. Wentworth mentioned...

"Kind of like the local monster hunters? Anyway, they keep tabs on everybody in Springfield with powers. To make sure nobody goes and starts a war with anyone else, right?" Erica explained.

John nodded, but he knew there was something more she wasn't saying.

"So, they'll want to interview you and make sure you're not a threat. Probably make you sign a contract that says something like 'We'll protect you as long as you offer your services to us', like I did."

"Hang on," John interrupted, "what kind of services?"

Erica raised an eyebrow and snorted. "Perv, not like that. Unless you're an Enchanter or Seer or something, they'll probably just ask you to hunt monsters like me. They pay fairly well, too. You should see their vault. Literally full of gold." She noticed his uncomfortable expression and grinned, "Hey, if you want, I can tag along. I'm not busy, and I know it helps to have a friendly face in a new place."

The offer was tempting and at face value seemed pretty good. If the Order wanted to pay him for exterminating monsters in Barriers, something he was already planning to do as soon as he figured out how to open one of his own, then John wouldn't turn them down. On the other hand... Mrs. Wentworth's words echoed in his mind.

Erica's phone buzzed, and she looked down at it.

"Speaking of, duty calls." She turned around and was halfway back into the set-shop before she looked back at him.