“Mr. Daniels?”
“Yes.”
“Good morning. I’ve read your application and would like to ask you a few further questions.”
“Please.”
“Some of them may be personal.”
“That’s okay.”
“Are you married?”
“No, I am not.”
“Children?”
“None.”
“Do you have elderly parents you care for, or any other dependents?”
Daniels frowned.
“This is getting rather personal. Are these details really necessary?”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Daniels. Do you have any dependents or not?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Excellent.”
He raised an eyebrow, but the woman had already moved on.
“Have you worked in real estate before?”
“No, but I worked in marketing, so I’m familiar with promotion, advertising and sales.”
“That’s all right. Not much promotion is needed in this case.”
She ran a finger down his application. “Any allergies? Let’s say, to spiders?”
“Not that I’m aware of, but I wouldn’t want to test it. What do spiders have to do with real estate, anyway?”
“Well, you know how it goes. Sometimes you have to open a dusty attic or pop down to a dark cellar.”
“Ah, I see. Will I need to take repairmen up to the attic or down to the cellar as well?”
“No, not at all. But when visitors want to see abandoned rooms or dark corners, of course, you have to be willing to assist them.”
“Abandoned rooms? You mean old wings of big mansions and such?”
“Not necessarily. But we can smooth out those details later.”
She made another small note. “Are you okay with working from home?”
“I’d be making cold calls, then? Setting up appointments?”
“No. The clients would most probably come to you.”
“To my home?”
“Your workplace would also be your accommodation.”
“Oh. So I’d be living in one of the properties?”
“For a while.”
“For a while?”
“Once your work at one property is completed, you move on to the next.”
“How long would I usually stay?”
“Until the right buyer comes along.”
“And what exactly would I be doing there?”
“Helping us determine whether prospective buyers are suitable.”
“Financially?”
“That’s someone else’s department.”
“Then suitable how?”
“Some properties require a certain kind of owner.”
“What kind?”
“One who isn’t easily discouraged.”
Daniels smiled. “You mean difficult houses.”
“We prefer challenging.”
“Old?”
“Frequently.”
“Run-down?”
“Occasionally.”
“Bad neighbourhoods?”
“Rarely.”
She paused. “We had an unfortunate legal case some years ago. A family purchased one of our properties and subsequently claimed they had not been adequately informed about certain... characteristics of the house.”
“What characteristics?”
“They claimed it was haunted.”
Daniels laughed, but the woman did not. “They sued you because their house was haunted?”
“Successfully.”
“You’re not serious, are you?”
“The settlement was substantial. Since then, Mr. Daniels, we’ve taken greater care to establish compatibility before a sale.”
“Compatibility between the buyer and the house?”
“Precisely.”
“So, what am I supposed to do?”
“Observe prospective buyers. Encourage certain reactions when necessary. A little mischief helps. Creativity is highly valued.”
Daniels smiled. “Now you’re speaking my language. Six years in marketing.”
She turned the page. “Do you like scaring children?”
Daniels stared at her. “Do I what?”
“Scare children.”
“Um... no.”
She made a small note. “Hmm. No Halloween shifts, then.”
Daniels laughed, but seeing her face, he stopped. She continued, “It’s an optional seasonal assignment.”
“For a real estate company?”
“October presents certain opportunities.”
“Right.”
“And adults?” the recruiter continued without missing a beat.
“What about them?”
“Would you have any objection to frightening adults?”
Daniels thought for a moment. “Is that how I determine whether they’re compatible?”
“Essentially.”
“You want me to scare prospective buyers?”
“Only a little. We’re trying to establish whether they can live comfortably with certain unusual features of the property.”
“And they don’t know they’re being tested?”
“That would rather defeat the purpose.”
“So, it’s psychological screening.”
“That’s not an entirely inaccurate description.”
“How exactly am I supposed to frighten them?”
“Full training is provided.”
“Acting?”
“Among other things.”
“What other things? Noises from an empty room? Me standing at the end of a dark corridor? Jumping out from behind a door?”
She smiled. “You’re getting the idea.”
Daniels shook his head. “This is the strangest real estate job I’ve ever heard of.”
“Does that mean you’re not interested?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Perhaps the benefits package will help.” She slid a sheet of paper across the desk. “Comprehensive medical coverage, dental included, of course...”
“Fitness membership,” read Daniels. Then he looked up in disbelief. “Unlimited sick leave?”
“Within reason.”
“Travel expenses?”
“Fully covered.”
“International?”
“Further, if necessary... and free accommodation for the duration of your employment.”
“That’s quite a package.”
“We take good care of our staff.”
He looked back at the paper. “Is there an age limit?”
“Not at all.”
“I suppose you need people fit enough to keep climbing into attics.”
“Hardly. It isn’t a physically demanding job. Some of our employees have been with us for more than eight hundred years.”
Daniels laughed. “You really commit to the joke, don’t you?”
The woman simply turned to the next page.
He looked at the original advertisement again.
No experience necessary.
Flexible hours.
Free boarding.
Full training.
Flawless transition.
There had to be a catch. But free accommodation alone would save him a fortune, and the benefits were much better than anything his current employer offered.
“When would I start?”
“Immediately, if you’re ready.”
“I’d need to go home and pack.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“I’ll need clothes, a toothbrush... my passport.”
“Everything required for the position will be provided.” She placed a contract in front of him. “If you’re happy to proceed, sign at the bottom.”
Daniels glanced over it once again. “It is a permanent position, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is.”
“That’s unusual these days.”
“We value long-term commitment.”
He picked up the pen. “Still no salary mentioned.”
“This particular position is compensated mostly through benefits.”
Daniels looked at the sheet again: free accommodation, no rent, full medical and dental, sick leave covered, international travel, no experience needed, all training provided.
He had applied because he wanted something different. He’d had enough of the eight-to-eight multicultural corporate routine, tied to a screen, always available, one pointless meeting after another, all of them just robbing him of his time. This seemed like the perfect opportunity, a magic door opening to a whole new life. He signed.
The woman took the contract and added her own signature. “Excellent. Welcome to the company, Mr. Daniels.”
“That’s it?”
“Almost.” She pressed a button beneath her desk, and two men entered wearing medical scrubs.
Daniels looked at them, then back at her. “I thought medical was a benefit.”
“It is.”
One of the men placed a small case on the desk, filled with syringes.
“What exactly is going on?”
“Please sit down, Mr. Daniels.”
“No. I think I’d rather know what this is first.”
“Your transition.”
Daniels stared at her. “My what?”
“The advertisement did specify a flawless transition.”
“I thought that meant into the new job.”
“It does... No need to panic.” She raised her hand soothingly as the men in masks moved closer. “I assure you, we’ve been doing this for a while.”
“You can’t just kill me!”
“We prefer calling it differently. We onboard you as our new in-house resident property specialist.”
“Yet it is the same thing.”
“Not from an HR perspective.”
His eyes went to the benefits sheet. “Medical coverage?”
“Up to and including the transition.”
“Fitness membership?”
“Admittedly, that one has limited long-term value.”
Daniels looked up. “And if I had a family?”
“You wouldn’t have been offered this position. Employees with dependants usually like remaining close to them, at least for a while.”
“To look after them from beyond?”
“Or the opposite, you know, if they had relatives they didn’t particularly like.”
Despite everything, Daniels laughed. “So that was why you asked.”
“Of course. We’re not monsters, Mr. Daniels.”
He looked at the contract. “This is going to be permanent, isn’t it?”
“We are proud of our employee retention.”
“One last question.”
“Of course.”
“Do I at least get Halloween off?”
She checked his application. “You don’t like scaring children.”
“No.”
She ticked the box. “Then yes.”