Note: This is my response to the prompt posted for yesterday's Story Time Prompt. I do go over the word count limit, which is why I'm not just submitting it to the digest. However, if you'd like to participate, you can join the digest here, and view the full prompt here. Happy reading!

When Dave – our hiring manager – burst into flames, I knew I’d fucked up.

“Monday, 8:00a.m.” He’d reached out over text, “Don’t be late.” I chuckled and responded: “Cool, thanks man.” An uncomfortable silence fell between us afterwards, so I promptly took it as my queue to leave. Maybe he thought I hadn’t yet processed how important this job was. And if he was thinking it, he was probably right. The whole ordeal sounded very silly. Did this company actually think it had an influence on not just the world, but mythical people who clearly don’t exist… by writing poetry?

It sounded absurd, but the starting pay was much higher than my last job working a lousy management job in Portland. I wanted something fresh, where I truly didn’t know what to expect from it. But when I came across the listing for this one, I nearly howled with laughter. Shape the world through the power of prophecy, the listing begun, and I found myself clicking the apply button almost immediately. It just sounded too silly to be real, so of course I was going to apply, like as a joke.

I didn’t expect to be hired, and part of me thought it might be some sort of scam. Still after struggling to hold my composure through each interview, I received the job offer. At this point I knew it wasn’t a joke anymore, but though I accepted it, I couldn’t wash the look of skepticism on my face. I tried to hide it, contorting weirdly to avoid noticing, but then he smiled warmly and said:

“Ah yes, I know that face. Don’t you worry Jamie, almost everyone who takes this job… has had no prior experience working in the realm of the mythics. I know it felt silly to me when I was first taken on, too.” Without realizing it, my mouth split into a grin, and he laughed. “You’re going to do great, plus after your first prophecy, any form of doubt you have will be wiped off the face of this planet.”

My expression faltered slightly, “But it’s just a haiku, sir. What power is there in that?” If my words had struck a nerve, Dave certainly didn’t show it. Though, the acceptance call was done over video, so I couldn’t say for certain… aside from the slight shift in the hiring manager’s tone.

“Haikus have more power than anyone realizes,” He stated. “They’re of japanese origin, and deeply influenced by their spiritual beliefs. And no… they weren’t intended for the use of prophecy, not initially. When our CEO discovered them though, he was obsessed, and worked into something even more special.”

“So wait,” I murmured, almost too quietly. “Our first task as trainees is because Apollo became obsessed with haikus?”

Dave furrowed his brow, “Be careful how you speak his name, Jamie. Others have lost their… jobs for less.” The warning in his voice was only made more clear by how he hesitated at the word Jobs. A wave of heat washed over me as I frowned, my cheeks slightly red. “But to answer your question, yes. It is because he took a likening to them. Anyway, congratulations again, Jamie. We’ll see you on Monday.”

The hiring manager exited the call quickly, leaving no time to say anything. He probably didn’t want to be around if Apollo decided then and there to come strike me with his bow. I sat there for a second, considering the idea I hadn’t started yet but may have already left a poor impression on my team. Well, it was just Dave, so maybe there was still hope.

Cut forward to 7:55am on Monday, and the only reason I’m awake is because I fell out of bed. It was a loft with a guard rail, so I must’ve been rolling around an incredible amount in my sleep for such luck. Groaning, I’d picked myself up off the floor, look toward the alarm clock, and groaned out even harder. If my video-call with Dave had left a poor impression, being late was not going to help my case.

In a tired-induce lousiness, I begrudgingly throw on some clothes, skip the coffee, and head straight out. It takes me thirty seconds to realize not only did I forget to lock the door to my apartment, but I also forgot my keys. I rush back in, grab them, and then check for anything else. After I’ve affirmed I have everything I need, I leave. Then, when I reached my car, I plug my new workplace into Google Maps.

Estimated time of arrival, my GPS reads, 8:22.

It takes nearly all of my already so little energy to keep myself from slamming my face into the dashboard. An absurd thought enters my head then, as I’m pulling out of the garage and onto the street. Did someone prophesize my being late? Or maybe it was Apollo’s way of punishing me for how I used his name before. I make a mental note not to use his name mockingly ever again.

“You’re late,” Dave says as I open the employee door to Prophecies Incorporated – a massive campus with several different buildings, including one for customer service, another for retail, and the admin hall where I was supposed to be working. The architecture of the place was actually stunning, like it’d been built by… dare I say it? A daughter of Athena.

“Not off to a good start,” I responded wearily, my shoulders going tense, like I needed to brace for some mental blow.

Dave looked me up and down, and then said: “Fortunately you’re the only one on my list, so just don’t let it happen again.”

My body loosened up at that.

“Now,” Dave said, beckoning me to walk alongside him. “It’s customary we give you a tour of the premises so you can get familiar with things.” I nodded, keeping pace, though he didn’t walk particularly fast. He led me out of the lobby area to our building, down the hall, and to a door with a sign which read ‘Break Room.’ He opened it and gestured for me to go in first.

“Break room is a bit of an understatement,” I noted, seizing up the size of the cafeteria. And from what I could tell, there were nearly sixty tables, half of which were incredibly massive. How big then was this organization?

The hiring manager smiled. “Weren’t expecting that?” He scoffed playfully. “We employ nearly 15,000 people at Prophecies Incorporated. All make up the foundation of success in the business of prophecy making.”

“How many actually write the prophecies?” I ask, not even bothering hide the shock on my face.

“Well,” Dave says, “A much smaller portion. Creating prophecies is a delicate ordeal. Though most exist to affect things equally as small, like determining what someone chooses to eat for breakfast.”

I frown. “But you said in the offer letter the organization’s mission is Ensuring heroes have a fruitful journey. How exactly does this contribute to that?”

“Good question,” Dave glimmers, like he’d been waiting ages to explain. “The prophecy making department is split into four different divisions: Trainees, Prophet, Seer, and Oracle. Trainees and Prophets essentially are the same, creating small scaled prophecies. These affect most of every day life, while Seers handle the moderate scaled ones, and our Oracles give off the major planet-altering prophecies.”

“And uh, how many Oracles do you guys have?”

“Three,” The hiring manager answers thoughtfully. “We actually had two step down earlier this year. It was quite a shock to most of our team. We’re still scratching our heads around-” A beeping from the watch on his wrist interrupts him. “Oh. Looks like we’re out of time, guess we’ll have to continue the tour of this place later.”

I couldn’t help but notice the apologetic look on his face. It a feeling of pity settled into my stomach then, knowing Dave was the kind of guy who really was passionate about his job – and the day-to-day happenings. The sort of fellow who you should never cut off during a knowledgable vent.

The next couple hours were fairly mundane. Dave led me to a small office, where there was a single desk with a computer. A training module had been pulled up, and he gestured for me to sit down in front of it. The screen had an image of the campus in the background, and some text in the middle which read: Prophecies Incorporated Training Orientation. Dave hastily explained that after each video, a couple questions would pop up for me to answer. And then he left.

After the orientation stuff was finished, I went back to the break room to take my first break. We were granted two thirtys and an hour long lunch, which felt like an insane amount of time to me. Every other job I had only gave the bare minimum – whatever was the legal requirement. So this was something I could get used to. Or at least, that’s what I hoped for. Instead, what happened next was an absolute disaster.

“Okay,” Dave pulled me into another office. This one had several desks, each with two complementary monitors, a keyboard and mouse, and a mug. I hadn’t met any of the team yet, so I was surprised to find there were a few others in the training office. But Dave saw my expression and explained quickly: “They’re just refreshing their skills, don’t mind them.”

He then sat me down at one of the computers. A word processing document was open on the left monitor, and a camera feedback screen was on the other. In the acceptance letter I’d received, Dave had explained the camera would show the results of my prophecy.

“You know, I should really ask,” Dave starts. “Have you ever actually written a haiku before?” I look at him, wondering why he’d decided to ask this now, and not during the interviews. Part of me wanted to be honest and explain: No, I applied for this job as a joke, I’m nothing of a poet. The other part wanted to humor him.

“I uh,” I responded. “I’ve only done free-verse.” It was meant to be a half-truth, enough to appease him, but the expression on his face made me feel like I’d just stabbed Apollo.

“I see,” He gathered himself. “Haikus should be easy to write. They’re a little like free-verse, but rely heavily on syllables. Do you at least know what those are?”

“Yes. Those are the sounds that make up a word, right?”

The hiring manager nodded in stark approval. “Good, then we shall begin. Your task is to write a haiku on the left, and then see what happens on the right. Just remember this, a haiku is three lines. The first and last lines are five syllables, and the second line is seven syllables. I’ll be back shortly to check your progress.”

Dave left without another word, and it only took me five seconds to realize he didn’t specify what kind of theme the prophecy should have.

“Something small,” I murmured to myself, remembering what he’d explained earlier. Yeah right, something small my ass. The skepticism I had about the job finally returned home to me, nestling into my arms in the form of rough rebellion. If this thing was real, I’d be able to make something worthwhile to look back on, like setting Dave’s pants on fire.

Okay, yeah. In hindsight this was a really bad idea. Regardless, I begun typing furiously, trying to figure out how to best translate the mission into a single stanza. It was honestly more difficult than I thought it’d be, and I ended up having to write and then rewrite the haiku several times.

Attempt #1:

Oh, manager Dave,
Careful around the stovetop,
It may burn up your pants.

Oh, that last line has too many syllables, agh.

Attempt #2:

Man is it hot here,
Oh Dave didn’t see you there,
Your pants is on fire?

Oh god, cringe.

Final Attempt:

From toaster and bread,
Singe a man’s buttered up jeans.
Whoops, you okay, Dave?

“Jamie?” The hiring managers appears behind me, before I can celebrate the cleverness of the last haiku. I nearly jump but retain my posture. “What uh.. Are you doing?” But before I can respond, a burnt smell wafers into my nostrils. Glancing down, I I see it, a flame flickering up the side of his leg. Oh no.

He sees the terror in my eyes, and looks down at his leg. His eyes widen, and then the flame erupts, swallowing his body whole. He screams and drops down to the floor. Panicked, I scan the room for something to put out the fire, but instead of an extinguisher, we’ve drawn a crowed. The other trainees have pulled in closer, watching like sheep as the manager burns.

“What the hell?” I yell at them, “Help me find something to help him.” The group stares at me blankly, and I falter. “There’s got to be something, please. I need to help him.” No one says anything, and a realization dawns on me suddenly. None of these people know the place very well. They were just as new as I was.

I turn back to the hiring manager, and something weird happens.

“Man, you should’ve seen the look on your face,” He points at me and laughs loudly. There was no longer any sign of a fire, nor were his clothes burned up and singed. Laughter rises up from the group behind me, and I step back, a sheepish look forming on my face.

“Y- you’re okay?” I stammer, taken aback. “But… the fire?”

Dave grins, and I notice a fiery glint in his eye I’ve never seen before.

“Wait,” My eyes widen, “No, what. You’re…”

“Apollo,” he offers.

I nearly trip into the trainees behind me.

“Sit down,” Apollo beckons, and I find myself sitting not in the training room, but an office. His personal office.

“Sir,” I start, but he shushes me.

“That was a bold move on your part,” He laughs wildly. “I use to do things like that to my brethren all the time. Hilarious, really.”

“So, you were expecting it?” I ask wearily.

He shakes his head. “No, not really. Most people don’t test the limits of their prophecies on the very first day. Especially not on Haikus.”

“What does that mean for my job, then?”

Apollo ponders for a moment. “I think I’m glad to have chosen you, Jamie. You’ve shown me a spirit I haven’t seen here in quite some time. You’re going to do very well in this company.”

My eyes light up, “You’re not firing me then?”

“Oh no,” Apollo chuckles. “Not until after your ninety days.”

I stare at him blankly.

“I’m kidding,” He laughs louder now. “No. You’re not being fired. In fact, I want you to become one of my oracles.”

An oracle. The idea floats in my mind. It doesn’t feel like an honor I deserve. Honor? Weird coming from someone who didn’t think Apollo or prophecies were actually real.

“It’s a big responsibility,” Apollo continues. “And a bit different from your normal prophecy making. You’ll learn more if you choose to accept the position, but the compensation is super hefty.”

“Fuck, okay…” I say. “Let’s do it. When would I start?”

A wicked smile tugs at Apollo’s lips: “Now.”

An unseen force takes over my body, lifting it up into the air. There is nothing I can do to fight it, so I become limp. Something invisible opens up my mouth, and in the distance I notice a trail of smoke heading in through a now open window. And though I’ve never seen it before, the name comes to my mind right away.

I was becoming the Delphic oracle.