A pair of cracked and wrinkled lips curled into a scowl. Knobby fingers curled into fists, paper thin skin stretching as the skeletal hands shook with rage. Outlined by the barest glimmer of light peering through the closed curtains, the shape of an old man sitting at a large desk piled with papers became clear. His decrepit appearance was at odds with the opulence of his clothing; a fine silk suit was draped over his frail, dying frame. Two flags flanked both sides of the massive chair.
"Anderson!" he barked, exposing a mouth full of rotting, yellowed teeth.
A younger man rushed into the room, head bowed before the old man, who was evidently in charge. "Yes my grace?" he inquired nervously. He already knew what this was about, and it showed in the way his voice shook.
Rheumy eyes seethed. "Winston is still alive" he said "And worse yet, I can't sense him anymore. It seems his aura was activated due to the near death experience"
"But sir I-"
"So not only did you fail to kill him, but you also managed to make him an even bigger threat than before"
Head hung in shame, Anderson fell into silence.
"The official news report we have given to the public is that you will suffer several hours under Chronos"
Anderson's already pale face turned even whiter as he blanched at the prospect of several hours under the drug.
"Fear not however. You will suffer no such fate" he said, as Anderson quietly sighed with relief. A sadistic grin twisted the old man's face. "No, for a failure of this magnitude, I will administer the punishment myself"
At this, Anderson dropped to his knees, head on the floor as he prostrated himself before the old man. "Please sir" he begged, hands clasped in prayer "Please I'll do anything I swear I won't fail you ag-" he screamed as needles of pure agony drove themselves into his skull. His skin felt as if it had erupted into flames as every nerve was assaulted with a scorching sensation. He writhed on the ground with his hands grasping at his head in a futile attempt to ease the pain.
"It does amuse me how you beg Anderson, but you brought this on yourself" he stated matter of factly. "You really have no one else to blame but yourself you know".
He continued to scream in agony, his vocal chords torn and ragged.
"That screaming is getting quite annoying" he mused, and with a flick of a finger, Anderson immediately fell unconscious, his limbs dropping like a marionette with its strings cut. Two guards wordlessly stepped inside, dragging his limp body away.
"I suppose he won't be too much of a threat for now" he said to himself "I'll deal with Winston when Anderson recovers" he decided.