If We Don't Die Today

An almost blinding white room loomed in front of the man. He had to shield his eyes from the painful, horrid brightness – the terrible white. As a worker for Better Living Industries, he knew that by now he should be used to the whiteness; embrace it. But he never fully could. It was just so… cold.

“If you want to come in, you should do so now before I lose my patience,” said the richly-dressed, snake-eyed bald man behind the desk in the room. “And I know that you do not want to see my patience lost.”

“Yes, sir,” the man replied, brushing his hands on his white lab coat and walking into the room, adjusting his posture. “I’m sorry, Mr. Korse.”

“You’re excused,” the bald man said, folding his hands on his desk and leaning forward, a devilish smile appearing on his face. He looked at the man’s nametag and spoke. “So, Doctor Charles Lewis. I hear you’ve got some exciting news for me.”

“Yes, sir,” Doctor Charles Lewis, who much preferred to be called Charlie, said. He leaned forward slightly, gripping his clipboard and lowering his voice. “Project White Noise has been mostly successful.”

Korse tilted his head to the side, looking suspicious. “Mostly? I don’t like ‘mostly.’ What seems to be the problem?”

“This weapon you ordered me to create—” Charlie began, only to be cut off by the sound of a shriek and a wicked laugh.

Charlie swallowed hard. “It—he—is a bit more… malicious than we expected.”

Korse leaned back and let a slow smile spread across his face before he threw back his head and laughed, almost matching the wicked laugh that had been heard outside. “That is absolutely perfect. You are dismissed.”