The Watchmen of Wells

This is a short story that depicts a typical night of being a Resident Assistant.

It is a dreary night. It has been raining since morning. The rain is as resilient as they are and shall last throughout the night. They go out despite the obstacles mother nature has provided. The reckless ones drive their cars. They know not what lies ahead.

I am the Watchmen of Wells. The Silent Surveyor. The Restless RA. I keep the hall safe for them. There are two types: the Calm Ones and the the Night Owls. The Troublemakers who by day are no different than you or I, but at night they drink their potions that transform them. The effects are not all alike, though. The side effects differ greatly from one to the other.

I hide in plain sight. In my sanctuary, the office, is where I wait. Hidden from them, though I can easily sense their arrival. The hour is late, or early depending, and their return is imminent. I hear them now. Perhaps if they knew my location they would make greater haste to their quarters, but no. They stumble through the halls, tearing down anything within their reach. The destroy all with no reservation. As I wait the lightning strikes, thunder crashes, and somewhere a baby cries.

Their sounds rumble through the halls louder than the thunder outside. Above me it sounds as if a stampede of wild buffalo has been released in my Hall. Maybe it has. Doors slam as they return to their lairs. The other Watchmen are awaken. It is time.

I swiftly move through the halls as Calm Ones emerge, awoken from the sounds of the Loud Ones. Identifying the location of the future Incident Report I gain my footing. The smell of alcohol floods the hall accompanied by the sound of their laughter and the Devil's music. I steady myself and knock. I can hear bottles clink and them speak.

"LOL WHO IS IT???"
"IDK!!!!1 LET'S FIND OUT! HAHAHA!"

There is a pause as they peer out of the peephole in the door. I feel their eyes upon me and sense their fear rising. They see their fate.

"OMG! IT'S AN RA!!" they shout. They try to whisper but their potions prevent their voices from softening. "Quick hide it!"

I knock again. There is no answer. Again for a third time, still no answer. As I announce that I am keying in, the door opens to a slight crack. The smell of alcohol becomes so intense I am forced to a slight cough. It is a male, clearly not the voices I heard while the door was closed.

"Wut up man? What you need from me?" He slurs.
"Hello. May I enter the room, please?"
"Nah man, you can't do that."
"Why not?" I hear movement in the room. It sounds as if they are transferring to the joint room. As I start to wonder where my fellow Watchmen are, I see from the corner of my eye another Protector. I motion to the suite mate's door. They understand.

"Sir," I tell him as I sense his fear rising. The potions make them weak and their wit slow. "You are in violation of the noise policy and your room smells of alcohol. Now will you please open the door?"
"Sure but there's no alcohol here."

He opens the door as I walk in. Almost immediately I see various bottles of their late night spirits. My how he has spent some money for his night of mayhem. I instruct him that he needs to pour out all of the remaining alcohol as he argues, telling me the various prices for the concoctions. It means nothing though, and after a few minutes of fidgeting he pours out the remaining fluids. I look around.

There are cups and torn fliers everywhere. Signs of their wreckage is abundant. That's when I notice the missing accomplices. Where did they slip off to? How could they escape my gaze? The Loud One finishes disposing of the toxins and carries the remains back to my sanctuary. As we step outside another Guardian is waiting with another male and two females. All are heavily intoxicated.

"These two were sneaking out of the suite mate's room," the Protector informs me.

We go back to my haven and I take their names and places of residency preparing for the report I must file. They leave and my companion returns to his fortress. I am alone again, soaking in the solitude. As I write, another bolt of lightning finds it's way from the heavens to the earth, bringing with it the loud roar of thunder and innumerable drops of rain. All is quiet as I continue my watch over the Hall. May the people of Wells find rest and refuge knowing that I am on guard. The People's Protector. The Valiant Vigilante. I am the Watchmen of Wells.