GREY AMBIENCE
-by Cadoxton Candela.

1983.

There's a dimly lit room. A small office with a little table in the center. Cracked walks, webs creeping over the line of shelves and the corners.

There are dead bodies littered around. And blood everywhere.

Two men are facing each other in silence. One is dressed in a dark cloak with tall collars and a revolver in his hand.

His hood covers his face and red flickers make his eyes. He has blood soaked in his cloth.

The other is panting and sweating. He has a grey long sleeved shirt.

CLOAKED MAN.
You can't hide anymore. I've come to claim your sight and complete the ceremony.
And to get that relic. Where is it?

MAN
It's not here. If you kill me like you did to the others, you won't find it. If you let me go you won't find it.
Either way you won't find it.
It won't take long for the police to arrive too. You're a criminal after all.

CLOAKED MAN
I never thought one of our kind would fight for a different one instead of his own.
You're a disgrace to the Lamarok.
I'll not carry on the ceremony if you show me where the relic is.

MAN
That relic belongs to Apertures. You won't have what doesn't belong to your race!
And I can't betray my wife's wish!

CLOAKED MAN
Your wife huh. I see. (Walking toward him)
You're loyal to her than your race.
I'll have you, then your wife then the abomination she conceived.

The cloaked man grips his neck and lifts him.

CLOAKED...