Paranoia (narrated by Orrin)

In Complex 222, something connected certain men and women. What connected them was something abstract. Something invisible. Something secret. Even the men and women themselves were unaware of the purpose of this connection. One could say they were even unaware of the connection itself, but it's told that somewhere, deep down, in the eyes, they could all see it in themselves, although it was a rare day when they saw each other.
Like many things before, they must have ignored this inkling. Passed it off as indigestion, or, perhaps, let it sink and mix in with the uneasiness that everyone in this world felt daily.
"Paranoia," they might have told themselves when they left the office those days. They would do this silently, but even their thoughts had to be the silence of silence itself. Indeed, a Silent Silence, because they knew that They were listening.
In fact, these men and women, and many others around them, made sure that They were listening. It was their job.
But in a world where everyone is guilty of something, who is left to say what is right and what is wrong? If all are with sin, who can cast the first stone?
If one is condemned by a mere thought, what is the difference between him and one condemned by severe action?
It is said that ignorance is bliss, that sometimes one is better off simply not knowing the answers to one's questions.
But, to these men and women, the answers came far too easily.

And this was their creed, kept in the Silent Silence behind their eyes:

"What can we do?
What will we gain?
Anything.
What can stop us?
What will we lose?
Nothing."

But as we know, not a thing, not anything nor nothing, is truly that simple.

When one says "They", as they often do, they are normally referring to The Agency. The term was most often used to invoke fear in children. A mother might say, after tucking her little one in to bed, "Behave yourself! Don't even think bad things, because They will know!" (A few even had the nerve to add, "Sleep well!")
Naturally, The Agency is an executive justice system, which exists for the purpose of keeping order. They do not protect the innocent. There are no innocents. It simply prevents crime from happening, or punishes those happy few who manage to commit a crime... and get caught.
Many crimes were indeed being committed that The Agency didn't know about. Some were obscure, some were mostly harmless, but some were happening right under its many noses.

At 5:30 in the morning, half an hour before the day really began, a figure in a long coat was running through an uncomfortably clean and seemingly endless alleyway.
It was not being pursued. The figure itself found this fact to be very odd. For the first time in its life it had been disobedient, had gone against the law that it never thought to question until now. The reason for its actions just moments before were no longer relevant. It had done something that it was not supposed to do, and the excitement it felt could only be expressed by running, running faster and farther than it thought it ever could.
As soon as there was a corner, it hid behind it, and was finally able to reflect on what had just happened.

7:00, the same morning

Arriving to his office fifteen minutes early as always, Eric Ermittler found a manila folder on his desk. Every day, it was the same type of folder, and every time, the contents were the same: reports of criminal activity in this jurisdiction, suspects ("They're always guilty, so you might as well call them criminals"), and all pertinent information. Most of the cases in the area were open and shut matters, and were passed on to other departments. Therefore, anything that landed on this desk was slightly more complicated.

Today's folder was fairly empty. Only one case was in the folder. Hmm...bank robbery yesterday afternoon. I'm stunned anyone has the nerve to commit such a crime in this day and age. Pouring a cup of coffee for himself (decaf, as per government regulation, of course), Eric began reviewing the facts of the case...

6:00,the same morning

Walking towards her door like a zombie,she fiddles with her keys finally finding her key of current need.Stumbling on the door shoving her key in every place she can and after a few moments unlocking it.
Leaning against the door she causes it to open...her movements now are much like a drunk old man as she bumps into the table,hitting her foot on a corner of the wall as she turns to go down the hall, dragging her feet along the way she trips onto the carpet of her bedroom as there is abit of a level difference.Managing to find her way to the bed,too lazy to change her clothes,she stares up at the ceiling for abit till her eyes grow very heavy,drifting off into a deep sleep.


8 hours later

The sunlight from the tiny opening in the curtains begins to disturb her eyes,she rolls over to avoid it opening her eyes to find her clock staring back at her.

"...4 PM..."

"....I'm late again!"

She takes a quick shower getting dressed before running out the door,clumsily going down the stairs and out the building she waits for a bus to come any bus really.
-------------20 minutes---------------
and still no public vehicle in sight her eye twitches at this inconvenience fidgeting and walking around her arms crossed.

I wonder how badly I will get scolded this time,hopefully I don't lose my job.

Coincidentally during her circular fidgets she looks to the side noticing a bike rack with a bike conveniently parked with no lock in sight.

"Hm,I'll just borrow it I will return it once I'm back"
Promising the imaginary fellow who owns that bike.

She has this weird habit of talking to herself,she should really stop that.

yet another sentence spoken to herself referring to her self speaking.
Shifty eyed she hops onto the bike.

Just perfect rushing to my job just to be scolded,but it's either that or miss a day of work.Not going to work is like getting fired or quitting,quitting of course not being an option.Since once you are employed you cannot leave,otherwise.....

Her thoughts trail off as she finally reaches her destination.Scanning for any prying eyes she only sees unknown people with suits ignoring her existance,they're obviously busy doing something and or going somewhere.The only color around among the sea of suits being the plants and flowers planted near the pavement.

I guess someone was trying to pretty this place up....

Still holding onto the bike she slowly walks over shoving the two-wheeler into the bush,messing with the branches to keep it hidden

Sorry I'll pay for the damages later to your owner,hopefully noone finds you.

Hitting her forehead realizing she is talking to a bicycle,runs inside the building past the front desk

"Hello,Do you have a appoin-"

The lady at the desk couldn't finish her statement,seeing as how she was already in the elevator and on her way to the third floor.
The doors open to reveal massive amounts of square sections each square inhabited by employees except hers of course.Walking quietly to her desk a small girl passes by stopping briefly

"Oh!you're here Fiona!"

4:49 PM

"You should really be more careful, you know? Being late all the time could get you in trouble~"

She said on a playful, yet somehow menacing tone. She crumbled a piece of paper and walked away, throwing it in a nearby trash can. She went back to her office and looked at the papers piled up on her desk. It was the same all the time... Official documents to be written, complaints and the occasional demands from the boss. She thrashed the few complaints from the employees after skimming through them and looked at the official documents. Setting them aside, she started filing a paper regarding Fiona's late arrival. Once completed, she put it among the papers she has to send and started working. Writing, making calls... Same old.

6:00 am Same Morning

Tom nodded off at about 5 am that morning and had just woken up. "Was I here all night again? Man I need to get home." He thought. He looked over to the monitor to see his progress, "Oh no. I've only done half!" Outraged he banged his fists on his desk and started working. He absolutely hated his job. He never got to see his family anymore and most of all he'll never get a promotion at the rate he is going at. He wondered what may have woke him up but couldn't see anything in the darkness of his cubicle. His cubicle was directly in the middle of the room, right under the air conditioning vent. Every winter they have it on even though the office isn't hot at all and he is always the direct recipient of all the cold air. His co-workers were like zombies, the only place they talked was in the bathroom or out of the office. After a long while he looked at his monitor "almost there!" Then looked at the clock, 7 am, the lights suddenly went on and the office workers started to pour in.

After a scolding from her superiors she cowers to her desk getting straight to work,yawning softly giving side glances at her next door neighbors cube

She wouldn't have right I mean she is nice enough looking plus I've already been yelled at that would be....

She had leaned her chair back very far during this train of thought so much so that she eventually fell back taking her chair and everything.Rubbing her head she quickly tries to regain composure fixing the chair and her clothing/hair.

In the cold air, Faye walks up to the building, looks it over for half a minute, and then down at the papers in her hand.

"Yep....this is the place..."

She sighs before taking her first steps toward the building. As she heads towards the front desk.

"Uh.. Hi, I'm Faye Albion... come here for the job position I recently received" She says, looking at the woman sitting uncomfortably in her chair.

"Oh, okay. Let me take these from you, and we'll have your stuff ready soon." The desk lady says with a rather gloomy voice, who then heads into the back room for a few minutes

Several minutes later, the gloomy desk lady emerges from the back room, with a small box.

"Here's your stuff, this is your key to your room, a key to your new office, and some other stuff." She says as she hands Faye the box.

"....Thanks..." Faye replies as she walks off in the general direction of where she thinks her room is.

"Ahaha"

Scratches her head smiling nervously...after about 5 minutes of standing there being ignored she scoots back to her desk.

Geez that Koneko girl is so cold..either that or very dedicated to her work,one of which involves being...a....maybe....which makes me doubt that supposed hard worker attitude

She bites into her pen as schemes flury about,looking over her desk she finds a stack of papers

They gave me double the work today....*sigh*
if what I'm thinking is true..
and news goes out..
then I will have more work to do tomorrow,more likely not even a job...
unless I can..

She looks to the side waiting for something to happen.

It seems yesterday afternoon, someone barged into the bank. They were wearing a bicycle helmet (solid black, no markings, tinted visor, full facial and hair concealment) and a large, heavy coat, along with gloves and various other garments. Because of the sheer amount of concealing clothing, the best we could narrow down was a height range of 160-180 cm and a weight range of 40-90 kg. Not much to go on. The amount of clothing worn also made it impossible to deduce gender or skin color. The suspect jumped the counter, smashing through the protective glass through methods unknown (the glass is extremely sturdy; it seems unlikely the suspect could break it with brute force) and stole several bars of reserve gold from the safe (it was a small bank, and the safe just happened to be open at that moment). The suspect fled on foot, still carrying the rather heavy gold, and disappeared.

Resisting the urge to lean back in his chair ("You must look professional constantly"), he sighed. This sort of crime is extremely uncommon now. The culprit is really strong...or is using an amplification device of some sort. The fact that the culprit broke in at that moment means that he or she cased the place or it was an inside job. The glass should be investigated too...

It would be a difficult case.

Ignoring her stupid coworker, she wrote another paper and put her pen down. She sighed heavily and stretched.

I'm so tired... I barely get any sleep nowadays. One last coffee...

She stood up and went to take a coffee. She went back to her seat with her cup and took a little break while sipping her coffee slowly... Making a few important calls when needed.

Fiona starts working..supposedly...still keeping watch of the next door cubicle.
A few minutes pass by and Koneko gets up leaving her desk unattended,taking this chance she slides on over to the desk still sitting in her own chair as she shuffles through her neighbors paperwork.

...Boring...Writing...Boring..Lists...Obviously missing complaints...Fiona...Boring stuff..Wait?!

Sliding the paper out with her name on it finding it has information of this morning,she crumples it and adds it to the pile of crumplings in the trash.Rolling the chair back to her desk,few seconds later Koneko starts going around the corner from down the hallway where the break room is.


"Oh Koneko..can I call you Koko?want me to help you with those files while you finish up your coffee?" she says smiling innocently

"No, I'll be fine! I just need a short break~"

She replied in her usual cute tone that seems to have lots of hidden feelings. She took a quick glance at her folders while sipping her coffee, but didn't seem to react just yet. She was taking her merry old time drinking it, but still attending to the calls.

Once she finished, she took out another paper, and started writing stuff without paying attention to Fiona.

Stepping out of the office, Eric replays the information about the case over again in his head. After some thought, he had decided to visit the bank and investigate the issue of the broken glass in person. Naturally, he had called ahead to ensure what was left of the glass hadn't been disturbed; otherwise, it would be a pointless trip.

Suddenly, it begins again. It's subtle, at first. A bad feeling, things out of place...Noticing this, Eric stops suddenly.

*tap*

There it is again...the extra footstep... he thought to himself. Quickly turning around, he heads into the bathroom and enters an empty stall. The only place without cameras...surprising that they haven't revoked our modesty, too... Shaking his head, he removes a small, plastic container from his pocket, and swallows the pill inside it. Breaking the case into two smaller pieces, he then flushes it. Stepping out from the stall, he washes his hands, splashing some of the water on his face, and dries both hands and face with a paper towel.

Gotta get some fresh air...Crime scene, here I come.