Jacob, code M-187, sat there, longingly staring into the summer sky. The window was dusty and coated in a thick layer of rainwater. The storm clouds above loomed over the small town ominously. Lily, his younger sister coded with F-645,tugged on his shirt sleeve that hung over the side of the window. He looked town to face her. He had long, red cracks on the sides of his eyes. His pupils were of similar size to the hole a thumbtack creates on a sheet of paper.

I held the information binder under my arm. I fiddled with the thin microphone under my red, button-up shirt. I smiled at how simple their lives were. "This won't last," I told myself. My smile turned to a sorrowful stare out into empty space. I awoke from a moment's daze to find their door open, with nobody outside yet. I quickly realized that I would be spotted if I didn't act fast. I dove behind the other wall of their house. The window was hard to spy on them through, but I got just enough information on the girl to satisfy the boss.

Faint screams could be heard through the earpiece lodged in my ear. It was time for another batch of supplies. Everything was happening so fast, I could barely stand with all of the responsibilities on my shoulders.

I saw F-645 walk alone, in the opposing direction of M-187. She was headed for the neighboring house, home to F-682- a small, caucasian girl that goes by the name Cassidy. That is all the information we have on that particular girl.

Me? Well, I suppose it would be rude to not introduce myself. I am M-015, the fifteenth male to be recorded. I work at the pizzeria on the other end of town. And that was exactly where M-187 was headed.

A thousand thoughts were rushing through my head, each competing with the others. Should I warn him? Should I drag him away? Or should I kidnap him? No, he was heading there himself. What if he was chosen? What if he was the only one there? Did they want a male? No, right? I frantically searched through my binder. In the back, I found a small, blue tab with the letter "M" on it. I felt nauseous, nearly ready to faint.

"Are you okay, sir?" M-187 was standing in front of me. My fingers became numb. What do I tell him?

"Um, yeah." I shakily responded, closing my binder.

"What's that?" He pointed to the binder.

"Nothing."

"Do you work at the pizzeria?" He gestured to my Builder Brothers' badge. I simply nodded. "Cool." he responded.

"You're not going there, are you?" I smiled in attempts to calm myself, but it only made my paranoia more obvious.

"Oh, yeah! I'm getting some for my sister- it's her favorite food, she eats it every day!"

I became sick to my stomach, thinking of exactly what he didn't want to know. "Cool." I began silently gagging, perhaps even throwing up a little in my mouth. I twirled my brown locks of hair on my fingers.

"You should be getting back, I hear the manager there is very strict. Hey, you can come with me!"

"Alright, I guess." Perhaps I wouldn't have to see him when the alarm sounds.

We walked across the sidewalk, along the side of the pizzeria. M-187 seemed a lot taller in person rather than seeing him through a window and calling it a day. I looked at the window of the kitchen. The blinds were over the window, and I could have still heard ear-bleeding screams through my earpiece if I hadn't turned the volume down.

"I wonder why the blinds are always closed," M-187 started. "I think that if they didn't want anyone seeing the kitchen, they shouldn't have built a window in the first place. Now that I've met you, can you tell me?"

"Sorry, M-18- I mean, Jacob- I don't really know." I really wasn't sure. It was an odd design choice. Perhaps this building was previously owned by some other company? It was a riddle that had puzzled me for quite some time. The answer that I had most comfortably settled on is that the window was originally created before the Process was developed. Today, M-187 might just get to see exactly what that was.

"What do you mean by 'M-18'? And how do you know my name?"

"Ehm, that's something that is secret for the company…"

"Tell me. Now."

"Fine." I quickly thought of a lie. "We create a code for everyone in town, recording a history of everything they've ordered. We're developing a process to give everyone a menu in which the items they order the most are highlighted at the top."

"Interesting, is that what the binder is for?"

I realized how brilliant my escape tactic was. "Yep."

After this comment, we came across the glass doors leading into the pizzeria's order area. The brown bricks surrounding the windows and doors seemed a lot more ominous with someone next to me. Somehow, when I was alone, all of the horrific thoughts seemed to vanish and I don't really know what I'm doing. Now that M-187 was here, I felt a lot more insecure and aware of what was about to happen.

"Wow, there's a lot less people here," he noticed, seeing only one other person in the whole building. It was a shorter female, one that I did not recognize. "I mean, than there usually is. When I get here to order Lily's pizza- I suppose you know who she is, too- there's always a line nearly out the door.

"It is odd, isn't it?" I replied, careful of what I say. Jacob stood behind the woman as I dove behind the counter, ready to take their order. I took the woman's order, which isn't really important now. I took it quickly, however, to get Jacob out of here faster.

I heard an alarm ring in our ears. The building went dead silent.

"Get out of here, Jacob."

Footsteps echoed through the facility. The door to the customer area slammed open. I instinctively stepped to the side to make way for our guest.

The head chef spread her fairy-like wings and flew quickly to stand on top of the counter. She opened them, each little spike on them making an ominous shadow in front of Jacob. The woman was at the table, looking shocked. The star tattoo on her face seemed to grin evilly as she did. She pulled out a handgun and pointed it at the woman. I recognized it as her memory-removal gun, designed to not kill the target, but instead stun them and damage the hippocampus to the point of memory loss. She pulled the trigger and the woman fell down, out of her seat.

She took her limp body outside and threw it into a pink car that looked to be hers. She turned back to Jacob, chains in hand.

"M-015, get in the kitchen!" she barked. She tied his hands together, then clipped the chain to her belt. She wasn't wearing the regular red-shirt, black-pants outfit the rest of the employees were adorned in. She was wearing all white, with a shirt that was incomprehensibly clean for what she did. M-187's face turned white with dread.

"This was a trap!" He screamed as loud as he could. "I never should have came here… You lied to me!" The head chef put a cloth up to his mouth, and he fainted.

"What did I say? Get in the kitchen, or you'll be in his position pretty fast!" I ran into the kitchen, horrified as always by what I saw. There was a line of people in chains with scars across their faces. None of them were bleeding… yet.

The head chef followed my entrance, tying M-187 up to an open spot numbered 12. She grabbed a fishbowl with small pieces of paper, each with a number 1-20. She dug around until she found a piece of paper numbered 12. She took it out and placed it into another, smaller glass container.

I watched in horror as M-187 awoke to find himself in chains, in pain, and off the ground. He screamed as loud as he could, but what he didn't know about is the soundproof walls.

"No point in screaming," another person said in spot 8. She was a female teen, about 14 to 15. I don't have her records anymore. Why? Personal reasons…

The future is not exactly pretty. I kept doing the same routine- no breaks, no quitting, no emotions. I constantly had to deal with the pressure of this job. F-645, Lily, if you don't remember, wasn't ever found after her brother disappeared without a trace. She may have left the town… or worse. The rest of the world has no idea where she went, it's all over the news. Detectives are moving as quickly as possible. The head chef doesn't even know her whereabouts… but I do.

As for Jacob? M-187 took a while to be chosen, in fact a few weeks. That's a new record. But, after some time passed, 12 was drawn. His number, let's just say, is now… 000.