A/N: This a story about interviewing everyone's favorite Russian. Idea requested by DemiGboss

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The soft taps of my shoes against the cold tiles below echoed into a cacophony of reverberating coos. The solitude of this polished tube allowed my readings to be heard through my thoughts. The clipboard I had been given was standard protocol. A name, a face, and a varying set of details. I grumbled along as I walked.

"Grigoriy Vasiliev," I noticed his picture showed a bright smile. Though his sunken jawline and deep eye-bags could leave a bit to be desired.

I tapped my cane along my path as my thumb rolled along the silver medallion atop. "Fifty-two years old. Six foot three. Two-hundred thirty-five pounds." I clicked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. "A veritable fortnight this~ one."

Under the clearance level section was an interesting tagline. "Clearanc~ce level: Brawler."

The hissing of my tone slunk ahead and rasped against the metal door. I took a step forward with one final look at my clipboard. A small note sat at the bottom of the tidal wave of information: A bit batty upon first entry. I thought to myself, 'Batty?'

I pushed against the frosted glass door. Inside was a simple small room. There was a phone on one wall with some corkboards and news bulletins plastered up for viewing. On the opposite side showed a separate scene. A glass partition separated me from a small table and a pair of chairs.

Within the sectioned-off room was a larger man. His dirty blonde hair was cut short with a slick cowlick forming along his hairline. He sat with his arms on the table tapping away to a random tune. His blue shirt and deeper blue jeans gave him this bland look. Truly uninspired in his attire much like his report showed.

I closed the door behind me. Startling a random worker ahead. He sat in a single chair before the glass with his thumb in his mouth and playing some game on his phone. He used his tail as a brace while he leaned back with a lazy glare. Though upon my arrival the massive marsupial fell backward, tumbling to the floor and jumping up just as quickly. He saluted me with a silent stare as if I were his commanding officer.

I motioned for him to return to his seat. "No. Don't let me s~stop you. You seemed rather bus~sy." I strode past him with my cane pointed toward the window. "What with his~s idle drumming."

He nervously cringed away from my poisonous statement. His massive ears drooped a bit as the kangaroo's tail pushed him up.

"Nevertheles~s, I suggest you return to your s~seat." I stood still while he grabbed his chair once more. Through the window, I could catch the faint glow of my reflection. I inspected the deep black strokes of hair streaking across the sides of the deep white expanse of my head. My perfectly trimmed beard shamed the poor man inside's. I began to saunter past the worker once more. As I reached for the door I pointed toward the few bells and whistles with my cane's end. "Begin recording, please."

I stepped back into the silent hallway just as the worker gave a confirmatory tap on the table. I hadn't noticed how cold it was before. A tug at my emerald green overcoat would have to suffice. I took a few short steps ahead until I was in front of another door. This time I had to unlock the door with a key card. The small star-shaped emblem smiled back at me.

When I stepped inside I saw his eyes perk up. He shot a warm smile my way as I entered. "Hello, mine friend." His Slavic accent lapped at his heels as he stood.

I slowly approached. I took notice of how wide he was. His shoulders could hold an infant on each side. And his biceps were thick as his head. The crow's feet peppering his eyes added to the rustic old charm. It was honestly the only sign that he had lived half a century.

"Salutations~ Mr. Vasiliev."

He raised a hand up, "Please just call me, Grom."

I paused for a moment, not a millisecond more, then took my seat across the table. The steel was colder than the air and I recoiled away once more. Grom noticed this and chuckled. "My apologies. Is colder in home country, dah?"

I straightened my jacket. "Pers~sonally, I prefer the heat."

Grom gave me a warm smile. "You have strange way of talking. Like snake."

"S~so I've heard..." My cane produced a pen so I could begin. With a leg crossed over my knee, I relaxed a bit. "Grom," I absently flipped through the pages. "A bit old, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

I let the end of my pen rasp against the wood twice, "Aren't you a bit old to be s~seeking new employment?"

To describe his reaction, it was a nervous chuckle at best. He rubbed the back of his head stating, "Never too old to work, dah?"

"On the contrary. From what I can tell you have quite the record." I casually read along, "You served five tours overseas~. No medals to speak of but your recommendations were s~stunning. Your second lieutenant stated, 'He's a loyal solider that I would trust my life with.'" I lowered my rose-tinted lens and leaned forward. "Very s~stunning," I reiterated with a hiss.

Grom laughed along, "Thank you, sir."

I leaned back, "I'm assuming you are a... displac~ced worker."

"Yes sir."

I continued our interview as normal. Questions about his former positions, where he wants to work, and why he chose our park. The last question had an interesting answer. He said, "Well I was given recommendation." My ears perked up. I could tell he had noticed as my pupils dilated into narrow slits. He gladly continued, "Yes. Man named Karp. Karp... uh?"

"Karp Ras~str?"

"Dah!" He pointed to me with a playful grin. I returned him a simple scratch of my beard.

"Very... very s~stunning."

"You know him, dah? His recommendation is good?"

"Yes very..." the air had changed significantly. I stuck out my tongue and recoiled from the putrid flavor. With a finger ahead I instructed, "Could you give me one moment, Grigoriy."

He politely agreed as if his input mattered. I swiped my card once more and stepped into the halls. I could taste it a bit better now. Decay was in the air. The scent of death was across my tongue. When I stood against the viewing room's door I metered my breathing before cracking it open.

As soon as I could see inside, I was met with dread. I could feel it in my stomach. The taste of rotting corpses and haunting nightmares. I knew his marker from miles away.

He spoke before I even took a step forward, "I do say, he's an odd one isn't he?"

Sitting with his dusty black boots against the expensive switchboard was Mortis. He was currently playing around with his massive black top hat while his cape swung behind him. His shovel was nowhere to be found though. An oddity I had not seen before.

"I thought I smelled dus~st." I closed the door behind me.

Mortis looked my way with a scoff. "Oh hush you old fart cloud."

"That's~ rich coming from you." I stood behind the gravedigger as he perked up once more.

"Oh look, look!" He pointed like an excited toddler at Grom. He was currently sitting in his seat and fiddling with the ends of his shirt sleeve.

I leaned into Mortis' ear, "What am I looking at?"

"Oh fooey. He's not doing anything." I lightly smacked the back of his head with my cane. His childish yelp was followed by an insincere, "But really isn't it strange?" We both stared forward at the bland man ahead of us. "He's just a normal guy. I mean yeah, he's pretty strong looking. I mean look at those arms they're bigger than a melon."

"Control yourself, Mortis~."

"Oh please, I can go window shopping." Mortis plopped his face in his hand with a pouty frown. "But why did he get a recommendation?"

"S~So you heard?"

"Of course, I heard. I'm the one that wrote the report."

I looked down at the document. A bat-shaped signature was painted onto the bottom line. "Of cours~se." Now the batty comment made sense.

We stared forward trying to understand what we were missing. Listening intently as a stiff breeze blew over us from nowhere. The rustling of paper behind us didn't break out concentration. Mortis had much more experience than I did with new recruits. He'd been working with the park for years. But we were equally perplexed by this painfully placid man.

Our perplexing situation increased when the door suddenly creaked open beside us. I sauntered over and tapped the door shut with my cane. Mortis snickered out, "That door's older than you."

I rolled my eyes, "Focus~s. It's our job to analyze if he's ready for employment at Starr Park."

"Lighten up, Debby Downer. Who cares what we think, if he's a Karp recommendation than he's good."

"It's your lackadaisical attitude that forced me to take over as~s head recruiter." I scolded him as he smiled with a dirty yellow grin. Our short bit of bickering ended when Grom spoke up.

"Hello?"

We looked through the window, fully expecting him to be looking at the one-way glass. Yet mark my surprise when he was staring toward the door. A door that had been suddenly opened.

Mortis leaned forward, "Now there's something weird." I on the other hand was stunned. I had surely shut that door on my way out. It couldn't have swung open from a breeze in the hall.

I reached into my pocket to grab the card. I'll have to make sure it locks this time. Though when I reached into my pocket, I found no keycard. I searched the opposing pocket and got the same ball of lint. Mortis looked over his shoulder at my frantic searching, "You forget something, pops?"

I checked my jacket next and was still left empty-handed. I quickly moved to the hallway as I realized the problem. Mortis must have put the pieces together as well since he giggled, "Oh he got you good grampa."

Just as I reached the door it was slammed shut in my face. I banged on it only for its echoes to taunt me throughout the hall. Mortis shouted, "Too late. He shut it."

I begrudgingly lumbered back into the viewing room. "I notic~ced."

Mortis hovered his hands over a button, "Want me to ring 'em?"

I almost agreed with that idea, though I'm glad I paused. This was a unique opportunity. A chance to see Grom's reaction to such an odd encounter.

We watched as Grom grumbled something under his lips. He sat back down when no one arrived. Only for a chill to wash over his shoulders. A voice cooed, "Are you scared?"

Grom's response was as we expected. He jumped out of his seat and snapped around. "Who's there." He looked back and forth trying to find out where the voice came from.

"Oooo~~~~h." A ghostly wail echoed through the room. His childish games made my eyes roll. Mortis laughed along.

Grom took one more spin around the room. His eyes looked at everything yet saw nothing. Then as suddenly as his search began it ended. "Ah-Ha! I get it. You are invisible!"

Mortis and I leaned forward at his sudden understanding. He continued on, "You are the special man I hear of." He turned around trying to guess where he was, "You are the magic man. Many magic men here at Park. I do research. I learn of this place before coming."

We could hear Leon's sigh through the speakers, "Well that's no fun." A massive cloud of smoke appeared in the room's furthest corner.

Mortis chuckled, "Well he's fearless. That's nice." I assumed that could be a reason for his recommendation. But there had to be something more. Starr Park reserved recommendations for extraordinary cases. So what was so extraordinary about this man?

As the smoke began to clear Leon spoke up. "Nobody gets scared of my tricks anymore."

"I am sure you scare many mine friend." Grom stepped forward, "Is good trick."

The smoke cleared more revealing Leon's green hoodie. "You think so?"

Grom opened his eyes reaching out a hand. "Yes. Is good trick. You scare me good."

Grom's outstretched hand was met by a much smaller palm. Grom took notice of Leon's smaller size. His strangely soft voice. And he fell back. "A child?!"

Grom jumped back to the door that Leon had entered through. Mortis and I leaned forward once more. We watched as Leon slowly walked forward. "You okay, mister?"

"AH! I'm fine. Just-" he put a hand out- "get back!"

I found myself pushing Mortis to the side. I picked up the clipboard and began writing down what we saw. Grom was banging on the doors, screaming for someone to get him out of the interview room. He yelled and yelled for Leon to keep his distance. A request that Leon obliged with a confused grimace.

I was scribbling furiously. "A Pedophobe. The fear of children. A one in a million illnes~s. As~~~~~stonishing!"

Then came another flush of death. I felt the chilling beats of a hundred bat wings rush over me. Their rabid wings slammed against the lights above and plunged the room into darkness.

I turned around to find them swarming around Mortis' arm. Then as suddenly as they came they flew away into the darkness. In his arms was his signature shovel. And the lantern that hung against its handle. The low flame now illuminated the room and cast a haunting shadow over the mortician's face.

He gave a ghastly laugh with his jagged grin. "Oh, he's just what we're looking for."

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Word Count: ~2,282~