Rain.
The world of 2021 was not much different than ours.
The rain that had been falling since dusk poured without a sign of stopping soon. Lights from cars and skyscrapers penetrated the curtain of water, creating a light show that is both sad and beautiful. Inside the building, Johan looked out at the scenic rain, hands behind his back, heart thundering in his ribcage.
A woman called his name urgently, and he turned. They moved down a set of corridors, down, so far down they must be underground by now. They approached a room with the number 014 inscribed on its steel door. They entered a freezing place, with cold steam rising and covering the floor, and donned on plastic gloves.
Johan observed the girl who was lying on the pedestal like a human sacrifice. Her black hair was long and flowing. Her wound was bleeding profusely. Her eyes were shut. He was glad; he wouldn't like to see them, to see the brilliance of the life he was about to extinguish.
Word was said that the system was ready, and they waited. The girl's life was going out of her like a leaking glass, and they waited. And as they waited, Johan thought of a very nice name to give to her.
Judith.
Then, he added, I'm sorry.
