[ WP ] `` There 's always a third option . Let me demonstrate . ''

My name is Jayme Mills, I am twenty four years old. 
 How long have I been held here? I lost count of the days after a week. Why am I here? I could n't even fathom **why** *let alone* **where here even is**. Who brought me here? Well, my door just opened, so maybe I'm about to get some answers. 
 
 A blindfold is promptly tied around my eyes, my hands are shackled in front of me, and I am lead out of my room. If you can call it a room. More like a box with a bed, a notebook and pens, and a toilet room. I hear the click of boots on linoleum echoing, so I assume this is a hallway. A door opens and my mouth waters at the smells of food. How long has it been since I've eaten real food? I ca n't remember. 
 
 `` Please, Miss Mills, have a seat.'' A low, masculine voice says behind me, one hand on my shoulder, the other undoing my blindfold. 
 
 I blink my eyes open slowly, as they are unaccustomed to the bright light. I am seated in front of a luxurious banquet table, with piles and piles of food before me. The room is long and white and brightly lit. 
 
 `` Eat, by all means.'' I look to my left and see a young man with a mess of dark brown curls, hazel eyes and a stunning physique, approximately 28, wearing a crisp black suit and piling his plate with food. 
 
 I do n't question it. I choose a large bowl of some hearty looking vegetable soup, along with a selection of rolls. I eat it as quickly as I can. The food brings my sanity back as I eat fruits and vegetables and meats and grains, giving my body the nutrients it so needs. Finally, I am satiated and tired and full of questions. 
 
 `` I am sure there is much you wish to know. Unfortunately, there is n't much I can tell you at this point.'' The man wipes a few drops of wine off his lips and grins. `` But, I will try to accommodate your inquiries.'' 
 
 `` Who are you and why am I here?'' 
 
 The man chuckles. `` They all ask that first. Quite simply, you are here to become an member of the Opal Agency. I am Nathan Opal, the leader of this esteemed group of people. Unfortunately, that is all I can disclose about that right now.'' 
 
 `` Right...'' I sigh. `` Okay. Why was I treated so badly?'' 
 
 A dark frown crosses his face. `` Ah, Miss, I do apologize. Every member goes through the same solitary confinement.'' He holds up a finger. `` To answer your next question -- eight days. While you were unconscious the first night, we preformed extensive medical testing on you to ensure your suitability as a member.'' 
 
 I sit silently and sip my water for a moment. `` I suppose that is reasonable. What is the verdict, by the way? Am I suitable?'' There's a tinge of sarcasm in my comment. 
 
 `` Indeed. You are quite suited for this organization. I suppose you want to know what the organization does, so, seeing as how you seem rather civil, I will enlighten you.'' Nathan runs his hand through his tousled brown hair. `` There are five sects currently in a state of civil unrest. The Opal Agency is one of the strongest. The others are The Blue Berets, The Yellow Jackets, the Obsidian Bands, and the Emerald Oppressors are their names. Why we are in a state of civil unrest is classified, so, that is all I can tell you right now.'' 
 
 `` You keep saying that is all you can tell me.'' I feel irritation rising and struggle to quell it. `` So, if I want answers, you wo n't give them to me? What **are** my options?! Do I have any?'' 
 
 `` There are always options, my dear Jayme. For example,'' Nathan picks up several different berries off his plate. `` assume you do join our group. You would be part of the winning group.'' He sections off two light green grapes. `` Now, assume you choose to take more time to think, you would be risking capture simply due to contact with our guild.'' He moves one grape into the midst of other berries. 
 
 I swallow hard. `` Is n't there a third option?'' 
 
 Nathan grins a wicked grin. `` There is always a third option. Let me demonstrate.'' He taps on a tablet next to him and the door opens. Three guards enter, dressed in black and white attire and hauling a surly looking young man. 
 
 `` Your third option is to end up like this gentleman.'' He says, motioning to the third guard, who is dressed in all white. The guard produces a silver cased syringe and steps forward. The other two guards restrain the man before he plunges the needle into the man's carotid artery. He slumps over dead, dripping blood all over himself. `` He is dead. So, Jayme? What is your choice?''
