Like hell you’re fighting. You turn and bolt toward the warehouse doors, heading back the way you came. Your hands find the door, and as you push against it, you feel something stab into your back. Either a knife or a bullet of some kind. Whatever it is, it crackles and fizzes like fire, as it eats into you. Your last thought before your eyes close forever is, “This was supposed to be an easy job.”
That’s the end of the road for you. I’m so sorry. We had high hopes for you as a crewmember!
[shhh, this is Holly again, check your email and look for an email about the job. Sometimes you get a second chance in life…this is one of those times.]