FarBeyondStrange

No, I didn't watch the 1992 film by the same name. Hi. It's me, Leslie Strange. Back from a long, long hiatus. A lot has happened at the house since I last uploaded an entry in this weird series recalling my time curating the abnormal and supernatural. I almost died a lot; there is an on-going problem with werewolves showing up during the daytime; oh, and I got a promotion. But before all of that: I'd like to ease us back into my misadventures with a more safe item in my care. Allow me to introduce one of my personal favorite duties with you. The Vampire: My usual routine consists of dealing with mostly inanimate objects. This is not one of them. Well, almost. Before I can even get in the same room as her, I first have to put on a heart monitor that is remotely synced with a set of three ultraviolet flood lights just outside. If I flat line for whatever reason, the lights turn on; beaming solely on the only entryway into the room. It's a simple, perfectly square room with only a

I know what you're think: "No, that can't be right. You're afraid of the Toothfairy?" Toothfairies. Are. Disgusting. I don't like Darkflies, you already knew that. But toothfairies are on a whole other level. How bad are they? I saw a dead body today! How's that, you may ask? Is the Toothfairy a serial killer? Is she on a killing spree? Let me set the scene for you: Toothfairy: My landlord paid us a visit to help with the Darkfly problem. He jumped when he saw me. Disheveled; exhausted; bags under my eyes; the whole nine yards. "and not a moment too soon" He said. I replied with a 'Just get the flood lights'. Twenty minutes later I got out of the shower and walked in as he was in the middle of a phone call. He was rubbing the bridge of his snout with a pair of pudgy fingers, never a good sign. He called me over, also not a good sign. Then he told me he needs me on the field to follow a lead. I asked what the lead was, and he told me a family of five thought their son caught the

I know the last two entries would lead you to believe that I'm some sort of cryptid-hunter. And you wouldn't be wrong; but I'm more of a curator for strange and dangerous artifacts. Although the two often overlap. This is going to be a long one, because it's a story within a story. But it gives you an idea as to why my job's important. The Left Hand of Hook: My first day on the job, my boss - Zaham Zacharias (alias, no given name) - gave the the tour. He explained that I'd have my own bedroom, that he swore up and down was not paranormal or anomalous in anyway (which makes me more suspicious). I have full access to the kitchen, with a refrigerator that's always fully stocked. Bathrooms, a computer room, a lab (as in laboratory), etc. Then he told me that the rest of the rooms were meanly makeshift storage for the things I had to look after. After a few days orienting myself and figuring out my daily routine, I sat down to lunch. Then I noticed I left a door open. I got up with my