inside Janelle’s head. She closed her eyes for a split second, tensing her neck as she did. 

“That was intense. I’m supposed to be the one threatening you,” Underbrink stepped back for a second, resting his hand on another of the desk’s ominous drawers. This drawer in particular was the recipient of the bullet from Janelle’s first shot, the projectile weakening it to where the pressure from Underbrink was enough to force the drawer open.

“Aww, brains…,” Underbrink groaned as he looked down into the contents of the drawer. 

“What in the name of God…?!” Janelle said as she peered into the open drawer as well. Underbrink grasped what was left of the handle, the warped wood protesting as...

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