Chapter 3; Scientist Smith, NY, America
Scientist Smith was one of the best in New York, New York. Known for his ability to research and discover facts 'bout anything. He was also known for not quitting on a case, which made him even more reliable.
Smith was a humble man. He was honest, and he was a hard worker. So when his boss assigned him to the case of the crazy kids, he accepted it with great dignity. "It would be my honor to find out the facts regarding the children," Smith replied.
So, Smith was soon checking out all the facts about the children. At first, he dismissed the case as just some emotional kids. He just shrugged, thinking that the children were a little upset about their fathers being deployed for the War.
As he researched more and more, he realized something creepier was going on.
…
Later, when Smith was at home, he sat in his study, which was full with diplomas and awards. His old, oak desk was covered in random papers. Names and scribbles were drawn all over the paper. Mugs of coffee lay scattered amongst the sea of mess.
Smith, just like his study, was a total wreck. He, usually bright and cheerful, was tired, with bags drooping under his blue eyes. Everything about him was terrible. His blonde hair was now dirty and matted, falling onto his forehead.
His eyes were bloodshot, and possessed a unnatural quality. The man hunched over the files, and muttered to himself, "The children… The children…"
Hundreds, or maybe even thousands, of numbers covered papers. They were coded, patterned, and each was filled with names and numbers. Smith, knowing what was to come, before passing out, whispered his last words,
"Good luck children…"