Introduction

Kurt Williamson sat in a dimly lit, white room on a metal folding chair and leaned against a long, folding table opposite a large wall mirror. He stared at his reflection and rubbed the brown stubble on his face and ran his fingers through his now non-regulation cut hair.

‘When did I shave last?’ he thought, immediately the answer came to him as, ‘three days ago.‘

His fingers also slid to his forehead, right above his nose where a diamond cut piece of amethyst was planted and then to his throat where a similarly cut blue lapis was stowed. They were smooth, and Kurt could feel his energy within them. Whatever happened next, he knew all was going according to plan.

Just like his inevitable capture, just as he sat in that chair, all was divined by his master, and as his final order, he would tell their tale.

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