Q: What has six arms, six legs, three heads, and fires lasers from its seven eyes?
A: I don't know; why are you even asking me?
Q: Are you sure you haven't seen anything like this?
A: Yes, entirely. Why don't you tell me what has six arms, six heads, whatever the hell else? This is a job interview, not a... whatever the hell you ask riddles like that at.
Q: Just checking. It's part of our evaluation. An invitation for the job doesn't mean a free ride in. Anyway, Mr. Brown, you can go now. We'll contact you within two to three weeks and tell you of your acceptance or rejection.

I stood up, smoothed out my suit, and walked out of the door. I saw something I was entirely unprepared to see and walked back through the door.

"What has six arms and six legs, three heads, and seven eyes?" I asked the interviewer. The thing had crocodile-like heads and the torso of a human bodybuilder, with six legs, each pair from a different animal, and six arms that looked like they were mechanical. The heads had three eyes on the two heads on the left, and one on the head on its right.

"I'm glad you've seen my point, Mr. Brown. If you choose to accept, your job training will begin Friday," the interviwer replied, clearly pleased. "And we call them Hexodiles."

"What exactly am I supposed to be doing here?" I asked, at a loss for any effective words. "In the first place, it doesn't make sense to receive an e-mail from a local company asking if I wanted to be a security guard. The e-mail makes explicit reference to my inability to find other jobs. The e-mail says "Be our eyes and ears," but eyes is capitalized while all other grammar is perfect. I come here, you go through the normal interview stuff and then out of nowhere, ask that nonsense question. You tell me go ahead and leave, and I see that weirdass thing you described. What the hell is going on?"

"You have Eyes," he replied helpfully.

"Lots of people have eyes; what makes you want me?"

"Not just eyes, Mr. Brown. You have Eyes. You can see things others can't, for a start. And you will soon find other abilities in them."

"What is a... Hexodile, then, if you're just gonna keep saying I have eyes?" I continued, rolling my eyes.

"A Hexodile is an otherwordly creature, the sort of thing your Eyes will allow you to see and combat. The other powers of your eyes will be ineffective against them. As for now, if you'll just follow me you won't have to deal with the hexodile outside."

He held his hand out to a wall.

"And just what do you want me to do with a wall?" I asked, perplexed by all of this.

"Look closely," he answered. "Look very closely, and then unfocus your eyes. Take in the general ideas rather than the details and specifics. See the big picture, the overall design. See it, feel it, know it." I followed his instructions, and I felt something shift. Shuddering slightly, I blinked and saw a door. It wasn't quite sight, though, and I could see the wall too. I couldn't just see the door - by the mere act of looking at it, I felt it as much as I saw it. The interviewer stepped through the door. I blinked, focusing on the door... and as everything came back into focus, the door was gone. I did it again and it was back. Using my peripheral vision, I grabbed the handle, opened the door and stepped through, closing it behind me. I turned and saw the interviewer.

"With a little practice, you'll be able to sustain your Hypersight while focusing on things and won't need to do that shift in thinking to fey your surroundings."

"To what my surroundings?" I asked. "Fey?"

"It's the combination of feeling and seeing you needed to detect the door," he explained. "Fey is what we say now; we aren't sure the term got there, exactly. We think a really good old instructor based it on the already-existing term of "fey" and it spread from there." He smiled at me. "Now, let's get moving. They'll be on us soon."

I followed him to the parking lot and got in his car.

"Check the car with Hypersight and tell me what you fey," he commanded. I did.

"This isn't a car, it's a tank. But it's also a car. It has slain countless of your foes. It likes to broadside them mainly."

"You can fey its spirit," he commented. "You catch on fast. Now let's go." He put it in first after inserting the keys; I felt the engine howl as it came to life as something came around the corner.

The object or being was eight or nine feet tall and had one head - lion-like - and four spider legs. One of its arms had a clockwork appearance, with a steadily spinning gear visible in the left bicep. The other arm looked futuristic, smooth and cold and lifeless, all curves and polished surfaces.

This rapidly became irrelevant as the car slammed through it, crushing it and essentially making the entire description I just provided entirely meaningless.

"Those ones are usually harvesters; they're the ones we want to kill. The harvesters take humans to provide power to their various Death Engines," he explained. This meant nothing to me whatsoever, and I made a statement to that effect. "A Death Engine is a machine fueled by the energy released with the death of a human. The main ones we're worried about are the portals that can bring the more powerful beings through. They haven't been able to shift a dragon to our dimension in since the invention of guns and we intend to keep it that way."

"Wait, so these guys are from another dimension, and so are dragons?" I asked.

"Yup."

"And why exactly are we alone able to fight them?"

"A shifted being is able to interact with things in the other dimension at will, but they cannot interact with it unless the being so chooses; it cannot be seen, heard, or felt. Or smelled or tasted. We are the exception to that rule. Each of our organization's members can sense them, with all of their senses. What distinguishes Eyes from Ears or Noses is that we can affect mundane humans in different ways; Ears, for instance, can hear thoughts or the truths behind words. Eyes can see through walls and often affect other human minds through eye contact. Noses can do the wolf and bloodhound sort of smelling stuff. It's more useful than it sounds; it extends to telemetry in stronger cases.

"I have a Nose myself, in fact; you ate two pancakes with 3 ounces of butter, topped with syrup, this morning. Your lunch was a Clubway sandwich, salami, ham, and Swiss cheese. Am I right?"

"Yeah," I answered, stunned. "You are."

"We can also smell pheromones very easily. You reek of fear right now."

"Wouldn't you be too?" I shot back.

"You're taking it better than I did," he admitted. "My Nose had a very rapid onset. It became involuntary within an hour. I freaked, tried to run. A hexodile nearly took me out. A sharpshooter with Eyes saved me."

"So what are you, exactly? Your organization? Are you like a bunch of gun-toting heroes or what?"

He smiled at me, and this is what he said: "We're heroes, you could certainly say. See, our organization is entirely heroes and martyrs. A martyr is someone who faces impossible odds and dies. A hero is someone who faces impossible odds and lives. Ideally, we're trying to be heroes because the alternatives are martyrdom and cowardice."

"I'm not so sure I want to be part of this," I replied after a moment of thought.

"You don't have a choice," he answered with a chuckle. "Your Eyes are active, so they're after you now. And they'll chase you until you can singlehandedly annihilate whatever they send.

"To survive, you must become absolutely lethal. You will learn every weakness of the seven basic footsoldiers they will send. You will learn to use anything and everything as a weapon. You will learn to shoot every type of commonly found gun and you will receive a handgun of your choice once you've mastered it.

"And once you've done all of this, we will let you leave our facilities again."

A/N: This is a first draft, as will be ALL chapters of this. As for any grammatical errors, I would be glad for you to inform me of their presence.