CLASSIFIED

Sacra Aedes Archive: Ref. No. 4302.

Agent File: Seven, “Della Garvison”, Vol. 1

Contents: Journal entries dated May 2004—July 2006

Librarian Note: This is the personal account of Agent Seven’s training in her own words and therefore subject to interpretation and personal perspective.

References: See Biography—Thornhill, Amelia; Biography—Agent Thirteen.

Chapter One

It was a warm May night in Guthrie, Oklahoma, but not so warm to be uncomfortable for walking home. I took the turn off Main Street and cut behind the drugstore. When I say “drugstore”, I don’t mean a Walgreens or anything like that—it was a Mom-and-Pop store same as most of the businesses in Downtown.

“Little girls shouldn’t be alone in the dark at night,” a voice said. 

A chill ran up my spine.

Turning in a circle, I looked around me. The air was eerily quiet. “Who’s there?” Gravel on the asphalt crunched under my shoes.

A man came out of the shadows, tall and gaunt. He was dressed like a homeless person, his clothes dirty, tattered, and torn. Tightening my grip on the strap of my backpack, I prepared to run, backing away toward the public street. 

Suddenly, he wasn’t in sight anymore.

My heart pounded against my ribs.

“Boo,” he said behind me.

I jumped and screamed. 

Pretty quick on my feet, I thought I could make it inside the drugstore. A sharp tug on my backpack pulled me backward and I almost landed on my butt. The man pounced, smelling like garbage, something rotten and metallic.

I pushed his face away. He howled in pain—maybe I poked his eye—and came at me again. His eyes were red—not bloodshot, but with red irises. 

They were nothin’ like movie eyes with the contacts you know are fake.

Some instinct within me said you’re going to die if you don’t do something now. He kept trying to bite me and it was all I could do to flail my arms, trying to scrabble back from underneath him. My hands landed on his face again and I pushed, my heart pounding in my ears to the point of making me deaf. 

Bright light, heat, and no more man. 

Ashes floated down on my clothes and the asphalt. “What the hell?”

“You tapped into your power.” A woman walked into view from the corner of the building. “Well done.” 

I scrambled to my feet. “Stay away.”

She wore a tweed suit, wire-frame glasses, and her hair pulled back tight. If she told me she was from The Watcher’s Council, I was going to hunt down whoever put hallucinogens in my Coke at the diner. She held up her hands to show they were empty. 

“There is no reason to fear me, Della.” My name sounded weird pronounced with a proper English accent.

“How do you know my name?” For every step she took forward, I retreated.

This was already too much scary for me. This was Guthrie—nothing truly bad happened here!

“I was sent to find you. I represent an agency dedicated to protecting humanity from evil. You have a gift, Della. A higher purpose.”

“No offense, lady, but I think you’re off your meds. I’m goin’ home and you can go back to England or wherever it is you came from.”

“Please,” the blonde said. “We can teach you to harness your talents. You just reduced a vampire to dust. Aren’t you the least bit curious how you did that?”

I laughed. Doubled-over-belly-hurting-on-the-verge-of-manic kind of laughter. A vampire? How could she possibly expect me to believe that? “Lady… I don’t know what happened tonight. I just wanna go home.” 

Got maybe five steps, when she added the incentive.

“We’ll pay for your education.”

I sighed. She had done her research, somehow. I wanted to be the first woman in my immediate family to go to college. Much as the diner was home, I didn’t want to work there all my life like my mother and the generations before me. 

The blonde handed me a business card, holding it out by the tip of the paper.

I took it and ran home. 

It was a relief to get safely inside our little house with its budget Country Home décor and the scent of Pledge. Mama must’ve dusted before going into the diner today. Parched from my run, I went straight to the fridge and guzzled an orange pop. The adrenaline started wearing off, and despite it being May, the sweat on my back began to chill. 

My hands shook.

But none of what happened before I got home was real, so I showered and went to bed early. It wasn’t real. 

Couldn’t be.

There was a logical explanation that had nothing to do with monsters from the movies. Had to be. In the morning, I’d continue sophomore year like the average middle-of-the-country kid I was and this would only be a blip. A stupid little memory. 

The business card would disappear in tomorrow’s trash. 

There could be no vampires in Guthrie.