When I first stepped into the Archives, I was 32 years old. I never stepped out since. My duty was simple: take care of the place, defend it at the cost of my life, be loyal to the Council. On paper, it was a promotion. I was now a Vertex, the highest charge in the chain of command. I had everything I ever wanted: power, money, respect. The cost was only my freedom. The person in charge of the Archives cannot leave the location until death or the destruction of the Council itself. Not that I'm complaining. When you work for the Council, the last thing you expect is a promotion. Usually, you end up dead, killed in a dark alley in London, while a demon dismembers your body to put it in his fridge. Or even worse, you become the demon. You are surely asking yourself what I'm talking about, right? Pardon, writing. Anyway, to explain, let's return to the younger me and my promotion for a moment.
"So, that's it?" I asked Hound, who was smoking a cigarette, just after briefing me on what my life will be from there on. Pardon me again, you don't know Hound, do you? Well, me neither at that time. Hound is a code name. Every Vertex, or everyone somehow valuable to the Council, has his/her/its information wiped out from all possible records, which are conserved in the Archives to use them when required by the circumstances (read blackmail, threaten, sell, exchange, assassinate the unlucky guy, or his family and/or friends). My code name is, without effort nor originality, Librarian. I will leave, for convenience, my real name out of this story.
"Yes, that's it. I have to go now. Goodbye, Librarian."
I couldn't believe it, I kept waving and smiling like an idiot at my fellow Vertex, who got in his black car without looking back and left me, alone. I turned around to admire the view. The Archives are situated in a pocket dimension hidden somewhere in Europe. And, like every important building in Europe, it was ancient, wonderfully architected, and afterwards partly destroyed, then "renovated" by the hands of different talented artists. Its size was similar to the British Library, but, if we compared the amount of knowledge stored inside the two, the English institution would crumble on itself for the shame. How is it possible? To quote a famous tv show: it's bigger on the inside!
So big, I still haven't explored it all, and I've been here for hundreds of years. I don't know how much time has passed Outside, the last date I saw was on a document sent in 2018.
That's how things work here. Stuff comes and I, well, archive it. Sounds boring, but it's really exciting and dangerous too⌠for the first decade. There's a saying in the organisation: "If you're looking for God, Atlantis or Santa Claus, go to the Archives". It's supposed to be a joke but I do have them here. God is in a closet, Atlantis and its inhabitants are trapped in a drawing and Santa Claus is imprisoned in the dungeons. What else do we keep? Hmm... All the books ever written, secret documents, magical artefacts, alien spaceships, portals for who knows where, clones and other strange experiments, a copy 1:1 of Pearl Harbor froze in time during the Japanese attack, Jack London's ghost in a jar and I haven't even started. Name a thing and we have it. That's how I get news from your side. The world is going on without me, and it's maybe my only regret. The time for me it's different. I'm still ageing, but way slowlier than normal. I look at myself in the mirror and I see a 50-year-old man. I did the math. I should have been in here for at least a hundred years on Earth, but with my ageing rate that wouldn't be enough time to reduce me to a 50-year-old man. I've been in here for centuries, maybe millennia. I remember it was 1861... My career started when I was a teenager, a little thief who hung around the streets of Rome, pick-pocketing.
One day Giovanni, one of my uncle's friends, told me he needed me. So I started racketeering and smuggling goods with him. We never saw the "goods", just those black boxes. We had only to receive, sort, send, without questions. That's when it started. My relationship with the Council. When Giovanni died in the Capture of Rome, I turned my activities into a legal company, taking advantage of the chaos. The Council seemed impressed by my skills, so they offered me a job as a Mediator. Diplomacy and secret operations. Sometimes I miss those days. From there it wasn't hard to discover what the Council was. An organisation that kept the supernatural under "control". The majority were wizards or humans who had the Sight. Then we accepted exponents of every race and species of freaks. I know, I shouldn't call them that, but what can I say, I'm old school. You can call me a racist, but I don't like this new integration policy and the fact that we are sharing our power over the supernatural world. It's not going to end up well. I can barely accept those who were once human and became monsters, like vampires and werewolves, and Half-bloods. Now we have dragons and fairies as counsellors! What's next? Is a demon going to be a Vertex? Are we going to let in angels, zombies or gods? *Sigh*. Sorry for the xenophobic tantrum of a paranoid old man. At least, now you know more about what I'm going to tell you. It's not like you will believe me. The Council knows that, so I think I should be safe. Our grip over society is so tight even if someone tells the truth it's pointless. But in the end, why would someone want to tell the truth? The Council keeps Earth safe. Yes, there are a few shady businesses. Yes, there are a few human casualties. The Council isn't made of saints, but it's all you have. And we are the best at what we do. I know of at least three Apocalypse level events stopped by us, since I joined the higher-ups, in 1876. Before you ask, I'm not betraying my organisation. I'm quite happy with my life, I'm just... bored. So bored. What you are going to read is just meant to pass the time, mine and yours. Stories, tales from the Council. Interesting anecdotes, exciting adventures and macabre details. Not just the organisation, but the people behind it. I hope you'll enjoy it. I'm sure I'll do.