The next couple of days pass without incident.

I continue to study my Book of Shadows for any mention of the name Anarch. I haven't traveled back to his realm since I learned his name. My dreams have become more placid in the absence of all the chaotic night adventures.

Maybe falling off that cliff knocked some sense into me.

Aside from a bit over hovering from both my roommates, my waking hours are peaceful.

Though peaceful, I cannot stop thinking about Archer, or rather what I saw in his head. The vision I had with Archer is an unwelcome distraction. There are layers to the visions I'm not sure I want to dig deeper into.

And then there is the obvious.

Archer is a handsome man. He is kind and respectful. He's also a doctor. I am not looking to date again but something keeps putting us in the same places. I am starting to wonder if I'm forming a little crush on our good doctor.

On a brighter, less boy-centric note, Prophecy University has reached out for an interview on the position I applied for. The dean requested I meet with him today. It is hard to focus on anything other than rehearsing answers to questions I'm not even sure will be asked.

I decide on wearing a pair of slim black slacks and a white button up, with a black vest. I find my empty messenger bag and stuff a few occult books as well as my laptop inside to make it appear I am more professional than I actually am.

It has been some time since I've interviewed for a job. Hell, I've taken odd jobs from the council for ages now.

Sierra offers to make breakfast. I am far too nervous to eat anything. I manage to eat a couple of bites of the omelet before I launch into hypothetical questions with Sierra.

After breakfast, Eric and Sierra wish me luck as I head out the front door. My heart is warmed when even Collins shows up to see me off.

The drive to the University takes upwards to fifteen minutes. It feels like it takes forever. Traffic is heavier than I anticipated but I arrive with five minutes to spare.

A quick grooming and another layer of ChapStick and I exit the car. I follow a group of students who are heading towards the main campus.

The campus is larger than expected. The quad acts as a crossroads to the main campus. I spot five visible buildings. The campus map assists me in finding the administration building.

When I arrive at the administration building, a perky older woman with darker hair greets me. Her retro half-moon pink glasses catch me by surprise. She correctly guesses I am there for the interview.

I am thankful I do not have to explain myself. I am a bundle of nerves.

She recognizes how nervous I am as she asks me to have a seat on one of the chairs in a row along the wall in front of her desk. She hurriedly calls the dean to inform him I am waiting.

In preparation, I list all my best qualities. It slips my mind not to grasp my resume so roughly until I hear a soft crunch. The woman at the desk, Pam, flashes a gentle smile and tells me not to be nervous as the door opens and a man in a tweed suit appears.

Dean Jaffe is on the shorter side. His chocolate hair is greying on the sides and in his circular beard. He tucks a small Star of David in his button-up before bellowing a greeting to me. I stand to greet him and he shakes my hand with vigor. I get the sense he is unintentionally rough.

Dean Jaffe welcomes me into this office, which is furnished as if he has inhabited the office for quite some time. Besides the odds-and-ends, there are pictures of his wife and four kids along with his diplomas from Northeastern.

He settles behind the hardwood desk and smiles up at me.

It takes a second for me to realize he wants me to sit as well before I do. He launches into his credentials before I can get comfortable in my seat. He eventually segues into discussing the position and what they are looking for.

The town's history becomes a topic of discussion. He explains that Prophecy Cove's history is mired in inaccurate occult theology.

Dean Jaffe voices understanding that I may not be as knowledgeable about the town's history. He offers a few notable areas tied to the occult around Prophecy, including the statues of Hecate. He lets slip the board's main goal in creating a curriculum based around occult studies is to dispel misinformation that has been circulating for years.

I listen intently as he speaks. It is not until he incorrectly equates a wendigo to a lycanthrope that I politely interrupt him.

Lycanthropes are historically thought to be canine beasts controlled by the flows and ebbs of the moon, allegedly cursed by an ancient witch.

Wendigo are evil spirits that originate in Native American folklore. They are evil spirits often personified as selfishness and greed.

Dean Jaffe is silent. He nods with a distinct expression of pride as he apologizes for his ignorance on the topic. The rest of the interview continues with a discussion on magical symbolism.

We lose track of time, and only become aware when Pam buzzes the dean to let him know his next appointment is waiting.

The interview went better than I could have imagined. Dean Jaffe was openly impressed by my knowledge of the occult.

Thanks to my ancestor for passing down a big book full of occult knowledge.

I head down the path back towards the parking lot as I text our group chat the good news. I am not watching the path as I bump into someone.

A woman swears furiously as a stack of papers fly out of her hand in front of us. I freeze as I am once again face-to-face with Nanoki. Her face is staring up at me from the fliers.

"Jesus, can you watch where you're going!?" the woman barks.

I can't break my gaze from the flier. Nanoki looks so happy on the flier. It is a far cry from the woman I met in the dark realm.

The woman who dropped the fliers is disheveled, wearing only a pair of baggy grey sweatpants with a matching Prophecy University hoodie. Her short black hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail. Anger rolls over her in waves.

"You're right. So sorry." I say.

The woman rolls her eyes as I pass a stack of fliers to her. With a discontented sigh, she slides the fliers back into her bag. "Look, I'm sorry. I haven't slept in a couple of days, so I'm probably a raging bitch." She says.

The bags under her eyes tell the story in greater detail.

"The girl on the flier is Nanoki, right? Is there any word on her disappearance?" I ask.

"Disappearance? Nanny was taken and the PCPD won't do shit. So, no, nothing yet. Nobody knows anything."

Her exasperation is apparent. I feel a tinge of guilt for knowing exactly where she is.

"Maybe if they would listen to what I have to say, they'd be able to do more than sit on their thumbs."

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Nothing. You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me. I'm a pretty open guy."

The woman stares at me, mentally debating whether she should trust me with the truth. It's moments like this I wish I could read minds on command.

"My brother is new on the PCPD. If there's something more that can help the case, he'd love to hear about it. I would, too."

"Sorry, who are you again?"

"Someone who wants to help. And someone who's not going to judge what you say as the ramblings of a girl who clearly hasn't slept in days. Do you know something more about what happened to Nanoki?"

The woman physically shrinks. She is closing herself off to me. I introduce myself to her and she hesitates for a moment before announcing her name is Sarah Gage.

Sarah explains that Nanoki is her roommate and best friend. She has been trying to find Nanoki for days, since that night.

We find a bench along the path headed towards the parking lot to discuss what she's afraid to say.

Moments pass as I wait for Sarah to feel ready to discuss the night of Nanoki's disappearance. If Sarah knows more about what happened to Nanoki, it could help me figure out how she got to the Hell she is trapped in.

I suddenly miss being a desk jockey.

"I tried to tell the police what really happened, but they just laughed me right out of the precinct. Hell, if I were telling myself this, I wouldn't believe it, either. This is a bad idea."

Her feelings are valid. The law has a way of dismissing anything that cannot be explained with science. Police officers believe in what they see and empirical evidence. Rarely does magic leave such evidence.

"What happened?" I ask.

Sarah's skepticism aside, she begins telling me her version of the night Nanoki disappeared.

The two girls left a campus party and headed back to the dorms. The girls felt they were being followed and were soon confronted by a robed figure with a long, triangular hood.

The girls ran away from the figure but were separated. Sarah arrived back in their room and waited for Nanoki to show, but she never did. She immediately went to the police the following morning to report the incident. The police suggested she sober up and come back later.

I can understand their skepticism.

"They told me I couldn't report her missing for another twenty-four hours, and they questioned my story. They wanted to drug test me! They wrote me off as some drunk co-ed. I know how crazy it sounds, but I'm telling the truth!" She says frantically.

"You're not crazy. What you saw was a witch. A bad one, if that's what they were wearing."

"A witch? How do you know that?"

"Long story that ends with a broom. Just know that you're not crazy. But the information you provided is valuable."

Telling a mortal I'm a witch is not something I take lightly. I usually only tell people who are close to me.

Or people who won't remember.

"I'm really sorry about this. Oblivisci!"

The moment the words leave my lips, her eyes gloss over and turn pure white. I whisper in her ear for her to return to her dorm room and forget our conversation. I add she should get a good night's rest.

Sarah's eyes flash back to normal as she leaves me sitting on the bench. I watch her as she disappears behind the administration building. I turn to walk back to my car and bump into Archer.

"Whoa, hey, where's the fire?" Archer asks.

"Archer? What are you doing here?"

"Watching you cast one hell of a charm. Where did you learn that?"

"I have my secrets."

Archer smiles. I find his eyes mesmerizing. It's not his eyes that give me pause. It's what I saw in his head.

"Right, right. So, will you be matriculating?" He asks.

"Oh, god no. My matriculating days are over. I'm here for a job."

"I'd assume it's not for janitor."

"Probationary Professor. Of Occult studies."

"Fitting."

"I thought so." I say. "So, what are you doing here?"

"A friend of mine works here. Every once in a while, he has me come and speak to med students. Sorry, but is it strange to you, too, that we keep meeting?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're a witch, I'm a witch. We both know that there are little coincidences in life."

"So, you think it's fate?"

"I think the universe is telling us something. You did fall down a hill last time to see me."

I laugh. He's quite charming. He's not wrong, either. We have met at least three times in the las week. Either fate is pulling us together for some reason or he is. I can't be sure.

"Maybe we should heed the call." He says.

"What are you proposing?"

"A date, maybe? Maybe I could tell you about my memories instead of you peeking inside. I want to know more about you, too."

It's strange. The last thing I've been interested in since my breakup with the psycho is finding another man. With that in mind, I want to say yes to him. It's the most normal interaction I have had since I've been here.

"I caught you off guard, didn't I?"

"Yeah. I—yeah."

I rummage through my messenger bag until I find a pen and notebook. I scribble my name and number on the bottom of a page before handing it to him. He grins as he takes the number.

"You know, in the future, if you want my information, I give you permission to view my chart. You know, with HIPAA and all." I say.

I pat his chest playfully as I walk past him. When I am further down the path, I coolly turn to see if he's still watching me.

And he is.

I still got it.