A young, wide-eyed girl with tangled hair and a torn up shirt bursts into my room, followed by a large man with small, delicate hands. Doctor hands. I smiled at them, and turned back to my work as if I had never seen them. The man walked up to me and took my pen out of my hand. To that, I looked up at him. Diego.
"Can I help you?"
"As a matter of fact," Diego turned to the girl, then back to me, "I believe you can."
She was staring at us with those crystal blue eyes. It irritated me, but I simply smiled politely. Pulling out one of the drawers at my desk, I took out a small syringe filled with a blue liquid. I handed it to Diego.
"Anything else?" I asked.
"Where are the others?"
"In the lobby. Most of them anyway. I don't know where he is."
"Alright."
Then they were gone. Then I was alone. He left with my pen. That was okay, he was going to die by my pen as well.
I pulled a new pen out of a different drawer and went back to my work.
