Maygan was already ninja walking with her swords drawn towards Fabrication and Design (F&D), when McQuarry entered the cafeteria. He no longer wore his suit jacket and half of his white dress shirt was tucked in, half flopped out over his pants. The knot in his red tie had been loosened considerably since she last saw him. Maygan wondered if this man had any awareness at all about personal presentation. It was like he had fought a demon sometime during the morning.

He browsed the snack rack before spotting Maygan. He shook his head as if to reset a thought. “I need more pills.” McQuarry loosened his tie to the point of falling off and took a deep breath, eyes closed. He opened them. “You’re still here.”

“Just getting started,” she announced. She held her hand up before her as if taking a solemn vow. “I promise to destroy your demons.”

“Heh, yeah well the hits just keep on coming. Apparently one of our FoodDestroyers in Tokyo just served a wedding party. Like it served the wedding party. As food.” He let out a sigh then walked to her cardboard desk as if examining it. “Our Hypo-lawyers are the best, but they aren’t superhuman.”

“Not many of us are. I’m sorry, Mister McQuarry. Life often isn’t fair.” She sheathed her swords and sat down at her cardboard desk.

Despite Maygan’s warm nature, McQuarry remained cold to the conversation. “My demons keep an entire team of psychiatrists busy. What do you know that they don’t?” He folded his arms across his chest waiting for a convincing answer.

“I don’t claim to have all the answers. I’m only 60% human after all. These demons, they have caused great pain in the world.They have sapped you of confidence. Made you rethink your place in the world. Bankrupted your worth. Once rooted, demons are hard to vanquish. And they will surprise you, appearing when you least expect it.

McQuarry sat across from Maygan and leaned over the desk.

She gathered the feedback cards into a pile in front of her. “There are many demons here. Listen to the anger from the villagers. Sometimes, the author might be exhausted, or frustrated, or just really, really high. But sometimes it is more.” She took a few cards from the stack and began to read them.

Why is everyone always talking so damn loud. I can’t concentrate in the open pit.

My calendar changes every fifteen minutes with meetings that appear and disappear. It’s like I’m constantly preparing for discussions that never happen.

When I’m about to find the flow, my neighbor constantly interrupts me. It’s like his superpower.

Why do all the snacks need to be “healthy”. I want new options. Give me a BroadAss Bar.™

Are we sure that’s really coffee in the coffee machine. I can think of other brown, watery things that probably taste better than this.

The air conditioner is blasting arctic wind directly on my head. It’s 80 outside but I’m wearing ski gear inside. What the fuck!??

“Most of these seem harmless. But I’ve been doing this a long time and I see patterns where others don’t. Sinister patterns.” She flipped through other cards. “These complain about strange smells coming through the ventilation. These mention feeling dizzy and having hallucinations after a coffee break. People complain about long crunch hours during the weekend, but not remembering what they did. And these people sound like they might just be stupid and might be better in exile. But everyone is tired. Always tired.”

McQuarry was listening although he remained unsure if he was hallucinating. “I can speak personally that stress can reek havoc.”

“The creature this morning was barely worthy of my skills. Definitely not worthy of the Compendium Terminus.”

“The what now,” McQuarry said, trying to pay attention.

She opened her pack and pulled out a thick black book. “Once I’ve found the demons, and defeated them, they go in here.” She flipped through the pages of the book but every page was blank. “This is the Compendium Terminus. It was once quite comprehensive but now quite empty. Once the demons are in here, they will no longer trouble you.” She tapped the empty page for emphasis.

McQuarry leaned forward and squinted. “My kids collect those. Your trade has changed so much I don’t even know what you people do anymore. I guess it’s some kind of metaphor? You are a blank page yada yada.” He said the last part in a mock female voice.

“Oh I agree completely. To stagnate is to die. Demons have ways of getting to us all,” Maygan said enthusiastically.

“Let me tell you what I don’t want. I don’t want upset employees. I don’t want them having doubts about me. I don’t want them questioning the integrity of Automatomics. ” McQuarry said. “I don’t want a bunch of people suddenly worried their soul is at risk working here.”

“You mean the villagers?”

“On these shores we call them employees,” McQuarry said.

Maygan leaned in close, their faces not far from each other. “Demons don’t really care about souls anymore. Times have changed.”

McQuarry scrunched his face like he was at the precipice of understanding Maygan. “So let’s just keep. This. Quiet,” McQuarry reiterated.

“Understood.” Maygan was about to say more, but spotted Hank Steve, the man with two first names, standing in the doorway.

“Mister McQuarry, sorry to bother you, but you said in this situation to get you no matter what you were doing.”

McQuarry’s face transformed from confusion to alarm in an instant. “Oh no. Not again,” he said. “I was just in there. Was there any security footage this time,” McQuarry asked.

“Nossir. Cameras were unplugged for maintenance. It’s almost like they knew. Filthy bastard.” Hank had his fist clenched as if he was crushing the perpetrator in his hand, but quickly regained composure. “Sorry, sir.” Hank Steve shuffled away to go do whatever it was he did.

McQuarry rubbed his face hard with the palms of his hands. “Ahhhhhhhhh.”

“Sir. Code Brown?” Maygan wondered if she should also be as upset as her boss.

“Yes. It’s serious. Perhaps this is your first test. How do I put this delicately in non-offensive terms? Well, someone keeps smearing… uhh… drawing symbols on the wall in the bathrooms. With, um… poop.”

“My word,” Maygan said. “What kind of symbols?”

“I don’t know. Like Dungeons and Dragons stuff. Things you see on heavy metal album covers. Oprah magazine. That kind of thing.”

“This is bad. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

He shook his head sadly, and Maygan thought she detected a tear welling up in his eye. “Never mess with a man’s bathroom.”

“You need to show me right away. This has to be the work of demons.”

“Absolutely. Whoever did this has real problems. I don’t even want to imagine what’s in their head.“

* * * *