Beatrice

"Good evening, is this a good time to speak with you about your car's extended warranty?" Beatrice mumbled monotonously into the phone receiver. She heard the familiar 'click' of the line disconnecting as she was hung up on, yet again. 

only 308 years into her 2000 year sentence of Call Center duty, Beatrice was tired. She lifted the receiver again, pressing it to her only good ear, she heard the tones of a line being automatically connected. The fluorescent light flickered above her head like a strobe light. She had hoped in the beginning that the lights would give her a seizure, granting her momentary relief from this nightmare. No such luck.

"Good evening Sir, have you heard the word of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?" She mumbled into the phone, twisting a lock of hair from the side of her head that still had hair.

"Are you kidding me? We are in the middle of dinner!" Shouted the voice on the other end.

"Apologies, Sir, is there a better time we can reach you?" She smirked. A green light flashed on her desk, and her Annoyance Counter clicked over from 1,900,456 to 1,900,457. 

"No, do not call this number again. Do you hear me?" the voice screamed from the other end.

"You have a pleasant evening, Sir." She grunted before hanging up.

As she lifted the receiver once more, she caught a glimpse of something moving in the corner of her one good eye.

"Good evening, Ma'am, may I speak with you about some exciting new options for your phone plan?" She droned on, basically running on autopilot.

Beatrice had been a phone scammer back in the Land of the Living. She had scammed elderly folks out of thousands of dollars, not feeling a single shred of guilt. Her shtick was that she was a distant family member that was in dire trouble, needing a wire transfer right away to prevent whatever terrible fate she had come up with that day. These poor suckers would send her thousands, and once she had their banking information, she would hack their accounts and clean them out entirely. Beatrice had ruined many lives before her untimely demise. Unfortunately for Beatrice, she did not see that bus.

Once more, out of the corner of her good eye, she spotted a small creature moving about the call center. This was highly irregular, as they were only allowed to leave their desks once year, for mandatory staff training on the latest Annoyance techniques. 

As she heard the phone line disconnect, knowing she had been hung up on again, she put down the receiver and looked around for signs of the creature. She spotted it just four desks over, crawling on the floor. Beatrice glanced over at the Supervisor, Johnathan, making sure he didn't see her as she slid out of her chair and under her desk. She crawled along the floor until she came upon a small child with red pig tails.

"Kitty?" 

"Well, hello, I don't think you're supposed to be here, my dear." Beatrice had a soft spot for kids, she never got to have any of her own before meeting that bus. She stopped for a moment to consider her appearance might be a bit frightening, since half her face was flattened by that bus.

"Kitty!" The girl remarked, staring at Beatrice inquisitively. The girl giggled as she turned and crawled in the other direction. 

"Welp, this seems like a 'not my problem' kind of situation. I better get back to my desk." Beatrice struggled to turn around under the desks, her frame was much larger than the small child, who navigated the under-desk world with ease.

As she hoisted herself back into her seat, she couldn't help but wonder what that girl was doing here. There was a special department for children, and they were always kept segregated from everyone else. Had this girl somehow escaped? Was she not actually a child at all, but some kind of demon disguised to trick the mind into thinking it was a child? 

"Beatrice, were you out of your seat?" Johnathan's whining voice washed over the room.

"No, Sir, just adjusting my chair." She knew this little creature would get her into trouble. The last thing she needed was more years added to her sentence.

"You're not supposed to adjust the chairs. They're supposed to be uncomfortable. Now get back on the phones!" He shouted menacingly, with all the authority of an Assistant Manager.

Beatrice contemplated telling him about the small girl.

"Meh, not my circus, not my monkeys" she proclaimed as she lifted the receiver and heard the auto-dialer doing it's thing.

"Good evening, Sir, do you have a moment to take a short survey regarding your thoughts on the racoon population in your state?"