Eric Sharp|Nova District|Nova Journal Office
Heels clap as the intern moves across the office, spreading her fingers through her wicker blond hair, resetting it. She uses the plate glass wall overlooking the city skyline as her mirror and fixes the buttons of her blouse and flattens her skirt. Her focus adjusts outside, the city lights glow like the last embers of brush fire. "It's beautiful". She's never been in Sharps office, but by god it is big, the office of course. And so high, she doesn't want to get too close to the border-less glass, every step closer feels like a stolen breath.
"Go clean yourself up in the bathroom downstairs," Sharp began, "I have some things to take care of." With that he disregarded her with an expansive wave of the hand, his other hand lifted a sheet of paper, under which he studied something carefully.
The latest blonde disappeared through his office doors, but he paid her no further attention. He reread the note, and swallowed hard. He ran the back of his hand across his forehead and pensively turned and stood, looking out over the city like a sentry.
He turned back, lifted the note close to the sharp tip of his nose and eyed it over the lip of his glasses.
You will be dispatched for all the evil you spin. Three days Eric, three days.
Third one this week. The crazies were getting crazier it seems. But why the hell were they so concise this time. No Bastards, no devil spawns, no magazine-cut rag-tag font. Something was off. He might have taken it seriously, but who could touch him in his tower. He scratched at his stubble, scrunched the note in a fist and tossed it in the bin.
Holding nine down with one gold clad finger the intercom hummed.
"Jessica, get Hyatt on the line."
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