The fluorescent lights overhead hummed with an eerie buzz that seemed to vibrate against the metal table. Inside the interrogation room, the air was stale and stagnant, smelling of floor cleaner mixed with old coffee.
Kurt sat bolt upright with his hands in his pockets and leg crossed over the other. He stared across the table where an empty chair stood, waiting for the man that they would have to convince, or otherwise threaten, for his cooperation.
Emelie stood behind Kurt. She was leaning back against the wall with her arms crossed and hood covering most of her face as her sharp gaze watched the entrance of the open metal door in anticipation of when Dominik would bring in the cultist.
"Say Emy," Kurt looked over his shoulder. "Do you wanna play good cop bad cop when they get here? Or I guess in this case it'd be good prefect bad prefect."
"Good prefect? Bad prefect? What bullshit are you spouting this time?"
