[Humphrey is stood in the brown corridor of a hotel on the phone with Marshall, his back against one of the walls and looking particularly miserable.]

Marshall: [over phone] What do you mean you can’t kill him?

Humphrey: Well I’d argue it’s rather self-explanatory.

Marshall: [over phone] Well why not then!

Humphrey: It’s… Marshall, the type of clients I normally get are criminals that are able to walk free, rich people that abuse power, whistleblowers and saboteurs along with very particular individuals with abilities that pose a threat to people’s safety.

Marshall: [over phone] But they do! They all do! Humphrey, one of them shot the Hatter dead. One of our own.

Humphrey: I’d be more convinced if he hadn’t already become a panicked maniac, I believe you actually put a hit on him at one point did you not?

[Marshall groans across the line, Humphrey giving a small smile.]

Marshall: [over phone] Come on, Humph!

Humphrey: I’m sorry but from what I can tell they’re just kids. Very troubled kids that are out of their depth, granted, but not anything worth the murder.

[Marshall sighs.]

Humphrey: From what Mister Gray told me, two of his friends live in broken households. A former friend of theirs died a few months before they joined their College, Gary himself was mugged this morning before I interjected!

Marshall: [annoyed] What? You- why?

Humphrey: In my defense, the mugger did put quite a number on me and seemed to pose a risk.

Marshall: Okay, I… I guess that’s fine.

Humphrey: Good. Look, I’m sorry Marshall, really. But as far as I can tell-

Marshall: [forceful] Do the “Angel of Death”.

[Humphrey freezes for a moment, surprised.]

Humphrey: [shocked] I beg your pardon?

Marshall: If you don’t think that they deserve to die, give them a chance to prove it. Do the “Angel of Death”.

Humphrey: [shocked] You know that I reserve that for very specific people.

Marshall: Humphrey, please, I need you to trust me. These kids are dangerous with what they can do and I can’t risk anything happening because of them. Can you, please? For me?

[Humphrey sighs, pulling away the phone to groan at the ceiling.]

Humphrey: So we’re clear, the two with the school photos. They’re still off-limits, so to speak?

Marshall: You don’t lay a finger on them.

Humphrey: Right… I’m going to borrow your van, I’ll talk to you soon.

Marshall: Okay… I’ll see you soon Humphrey.

Humphrey: You too Marshall.

[He hangs up the phone, pocketing it and closing his eyes. He rubs his head a bit before quickly pulling himself straight up and heading back into the hotel room. Gary is still sat on the bed, holding onto his polystyrene box of take-out.]

Humphrey: Mister Gray, care to come with me?

[Gary quickly stands up, heading out the room.]

Gary: Thank you. Again.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Humphrey: No issue, I promise.

[The two leave the hotel room, Humphrey locking the door behind them. Later that night, the two are heading to Gary’s house in a white van. Humphrey is driving, focused on the road, while Gary is alternating between staring out of the window and looking around the van. He glances at the glove box.]

Gary: Got any music we could listen to? This feels… awkward.

Humphrey: I’ll put on the radio.

[He quickly turns it on, taking a few seconds before it starts to play “Somewhere Only We Know”.]

Gary: Is there not anything in the glove box?

[He reaches over, Humphrey quickly grabbing and covering the glovebox with his hand.]

Humphrey: [quickly, forceful] Mister Gray, please understand this isn’t my van. It belongs to a very close friend of mine and he definitely wouldn’t be happy knowing that someone went rifling through his glove box. Understood?

Gary: [hesitant] O-okay then.

[Gary goes back to looking out the window.]

Gary: Sorry Mr Duncan.

Humphrey: You know what, call me Humphrey. I insist.

Gary: Okay then… sorry Humphrey.

[The two stay silent a little longer before Gary perks up.]

Gary: That one! That’s my house!

[Gary points to a large house, very rustic in look. There are a lot of vines growing over it and a lot of plants surrounding the house. The roof itself is grey and curved rather than pointed. It has a large driveway but no cars. There’s a few windows but one stands prominent, at the top of the house, with cobwebs covering the window itself. Humphrey gives a quick glance to Gary.]

Humphrey: [shocked] Really? This place is your house?

Gary: Yeah, my dad has a really good job.

Humphrey: [shocked] I can see that…

[Humphrey pulls the van into the drive, parking it. Gary quickly pulls off his seatbelt and turns to Humphrey.]

Gary: Thank you again.

Humphrey: It’s nothing, really.

[Gary gets out of the van, starting to close the door.]

Humphrey: Before you go!

[Gary stops, peeking through the crack in the door. Humphrey leans over.]

Humphrey: I’ve scheduled you for another appointment with me tomorrow, if that’s okay? No specific time, you just have to turn up and I’ll help you. Is that okay?

Gary: Um… yeah! Okay.

Humphrey: Perfect. I hope it goes better than it did today.

[Humphrey smiles, getting back in the driver's seat.]

Humphrey: Goodnight Mister Gray.

[Gary closes the door. Humphrey gives a small wave, reversing the car away from the house. Gary watches as Humphrey leaves with a smile. Once he’s out of sight, the smile quickly fades away as Gary enters his house and flicks on the lights. He stands alone in a long green corridor with oak floors, electric chandeliers lighting up the length of the room. leading into two different rooms on each side along with a staircase at the end. He groans, face travelling into his hands as he starts leaning his back against the door.]