Description
June 3, 2000 A small man walks down a dim corridor at a brisk clip, his dress shoes echoing off the walls. He stops outside a heavy metal door. He knocks once using his knuckles. A small panel slides out from the door's frame. Without hesitation the man types in a code. The panel slides back. A moment of silence passes before a series of clicks can be heard inside the door itself. With a finally click the door hisses open like elevator doors. The small man enters a dark room filled with computers along all the walls. A similar door positioned on the other three walls, each admitting another person in an equally bland suit. They acknowledge each other as they walk towards the small table in the center of the room. The man lifts his chair as he pulls it back so that it does not screech on the metal floor. The woman to his right does not take such care. The high pitched screech reverberates to the very marrow of his bones. His manicured nails dig into the tender skin of his palm drawing blood as he fights the urge to scratch the womans eyes out. Finally she takes a seat oblivious to her near death experience. A white haired man sits across form the small man laying out a pile of manila folders. He gives each person a solid gaze before he opens the topmost folder. "Let us begin."
Ch. 1 Willow
