'TheSimmonsCaseEndedYearsAgo'

I packed away the last of my files. At last, I was completely settled in as a permanent member of the firm, and it only took me two years. I leaned back in my seat and tapped my finger on the desk. I pushed my finger into a button and spoke, "Janet, cancel my three o'clock," and released my finger. I toyed with a pencil. I opened a drawer, closed it, and opened it again. I lifted a file, reading "Simmons," and placed it back into the drawer, closing it again. Now that my three o'clock appointment to see my client Doctor What's-his-face was done for, I could take the afternoon to myself.
I took out the file reading "Simmons" again, and read it.
"Mrs. Rochelle P. Simmons, deceased since 4/9/1987. Aged 56 years. Suicide."
I closed the file and checked the clock. 3. No appointment for me today.
The door opened.
"Janet, I thought I told you to cancel my three o'clock."
I heard no response.
"Greetings and repose, sir and mister."
The first thing I noticed was that, for the man entering my office, English was obviously not his first language. That kind of choppy grammar and confusing context couldn't be a result of a natural speaking ability. The next thing I noticed was that he wore an awful lot of dark colors for the middle of the day. Not to mention that this man apparently didn't have a face. It wasn't as though there was a blank where his face should be, nor was it that he was wearing a mask or a rather large hat, it was simply that there was nothing there where his face should have been. To this day I have no idea how he spoke to me without a mouth. Then again, maybe he was wearing too big a hat. This man was a sight to see, that's for certain.
Not wanting to seem rude, I responded.
"Uh, yes, hello. Good afternoon. Can I help you?"
"A fistful dank when under the bridge."
"I… beg your pardon?"
"The steam of ten eight thousand deaths are above your hair of you that is yours."
"Are you a salesman, sir?"
"Undulate."
I pushed the button under my desk to call for security without causing alarm.
"Well, that's… nice."
"Have we no sympathy except in on mails?"
"I- what?"
"R. Patricia Simmons."
I sat a little aghast. "I-I just opened her file. Old case, suicide. How did you-?"
"The spirits of the damned are the souls of the unfettered."
I pressed the security button again. "I-I'm sorry, I can't, don't understa-"
The faceless man grabbed my hand without moving at all. At first I wondered how he did this. Then I noticed that my hand was in a great deal of pain. "Ow! H-hey, what are you trying to pull, you-"
Then he ripped my arm off.
I screamed, first in pain, then in terror. Where were those security guards?
The faceless man seemed to be laughing, but I couldn't tell due to all that screaming I was busy doing. Then his laughter stopped, and started suddenly again. It started to sound a lot less like laughter and a lot more like pure malevolence in sound form. I think it was then that I started crying in pain. Or maybe it was terror.
"Recurrence of the semi-candescent nature are foolproof, jackal."
What the hell is this guy trying to say to me? He barges into my office, starts rambling nonsense about my hair, he brings up old cases, rips my arm off, does some sort of freaky laugh, and now he's calling me animal names while my shoulder bleeds all over the place, I thought. Oh, and pain. I thought of pain a lot, too.
"A vital vitamin under your skin. Twelve golden geese are cross-kneed within my skill. Help."
Okay, this is pure nonsense.
"Ambivalent!"
And that's when I woke up. Some doctor was sitting across my desk from me, asking if I was all right. "Ye-yes, I'm fine."
Just a dream, right? I'm fine. Got to pull myself together, it was just a dream. Hey wait, blast it all, I was asleep. Not good for the image. Okay, okay, down to business.
We went through the usual affairs. He left at the end, and I was stuck with more paperwork to file away. Joy of joys. I got a buzz from my secretary.
"Excuse me, sir?"
"Hmm? Yes, Janet?"
"One Mr. 'Edwin' is here to see you, sir."
"Does he have an appointment?"
"He won't say."
"All right, well, send him in. I'll see what I can do."