Day 1 - 10:27 pm

It was late at night, but the office lights allowed Darren Felter to see what was happening on the other building across quite clearly. He could tell it was the same floor, and he could see the woman pressed against the glass window facing his direction.

He wished it was all just a bad dream, and that he could just shake his head and then realize that he was seeing things due to tiredness. But unfortunately, it wasn't the case. Blood was spraying onto the glass window, and Darren could see the woman's head getting bashed inwards more and more. He could see the man mercilessly swinging the hockey stick at the woman's head, and even after she stopped moving, the man did not stop.

Oh..oh my God…holy shit… Darren thought to himself. He frantically reached into his pocket to take out his cell phone. He breathed heavily and tried to stop his hands from shaking. He did not dare look across to the other building again. He closed his eyes and placed his phone by his ear and spoke shakily, "S-somebody is g-getting killed over here, please help!"

Day 1 – 9:10 am

"Mr. Felter, Mr. Lambert will see you now," the receptionist called out to Darren, who had been sitting down, patiently waiting for a long twenty minutes. Darren picked up his briefcase and walked into the new office. A tall, middle-aged man in a black suit walked up to him and shook his hand. "Mr. Felter," he spoke happily, "Sorry about the delay, but welcome to Litchford Advertising, I'll show you around."

Darren looked around the office – it was fairly large, but the layout was simple and boring. There were rows and rows of desks accompanied with individual computers, and everyone sitting down was working very quietly. When he first met Richard Lambert he thought the new workplace was going to be quite lively, but apparently not.

"Mr. Lambert," Darren smiled and said, "I would just like to thank you for letting me have the job." His boss smiled back and replied casually, "Hey, there's no need. Everyone deserves a chance right?" Darren was damn lucky to have gotten this position. He had gone through several jobs and many rejections before finally landing on this one. He was a hard worker, but things just never went well for him. Perhaps finally this stroke of luck could change everything.

Mr. Lambert walked Darren to his desk. The new worker looked at his new spot – it was small, and right next to the glass windows, but it had a nice view of the city, and it faced an equally tall building. "You see the floor on the other building across from us?" Richard said and pointed, "That's our partner company – Swanberg, we work very frequently with them, and our workers often go to the other side to hold meetings." After explaining the rules and regulations of the place, Darren finally got to sit down at his new spot.

His coworkers who sat around him did not greet him – they were absorbed into their work. Fucking robots, Darren thought to himself as he started to unpack his stuff. A voice suddenly interrupted him, "Mr. Felter, excuse me, Mr. Felter." Darren looked up and saw a chubby man leaning over his desk. "You know that Jeff recently left, and he's got a lot of different shit left undone." Before the man could continue, Darren had already guessed what he was going to say. He cleared his throat and said in a friendly tone, "So you want me to follow up with the work right? That's no problem." The chubby man smiled back and then replied, "I'm glad to hear that. Sorry about the workload on the first day, but Jeff used to take care of a lot of things, so I'm afraid you're going to have to catch up with it. Hope it doesn't take too long."

Day 1 – 10:25 pm

There was complete silence in the office. All the lights were turned off, except for those on the row where Darren worked at. It was quiet enough to hear the ticking of the clock and the light breeze coming from the air conditioner. Jeff sure left a lot of shit behind. It was difficult for Darren to work at a fast pace, given that he had to start from scratch to understand the job, but there was no point in whining about it. At least he got the job, so he needs to work hard to keep it.

Darren rubbed his eyes. He looked at his watch – almost 10:30 at night, and everyone had left. He was tired, and his second cup of coffee was almost finished. 10:30 was not that late, but with that amount of workload, you're bound to wear down. He looked out the window – it was a nice view, and he could see the bright lights coming from the cars and shopping centers in the busy district. His eyes fixed onto the building across. Some of the lights were still on in the parallel floor of the building across. Darren saw a woman, dressed in black, who appeared to be busy fumbling with the fax machine by the window.

Darren smiled and thought, well, at least I'm not alone. As he continued to look at the woman in the other building, he suddenly noticed a man carrying a hockey stick slowly walking towards her. He could not see the man's face; a white drawstring bag that had eye and mouth holes was covering his face like a mask. Darren Felter suddenly felt his hard beat faster. Something's not right, he thought to himself as he leaned closer towards the glass to get a good look.

He then felt his heart jump as the hockey stick hammered onto the side of the woman's head, sending her crashing into the glass window. Darren could not believe what just happened, and he had never been so scared in his entire life. His hand was shaking, but he managed to fumble through his pocket and take out his cell phone.