A simple job. A bad day.

Gress is running again. West. Good. Close the path behind. Tighten the noose.

Gress, the poor soul, made some mistakes in life. He had wanted to start a business on level 51. But seeing as he lived on level 49, just under the barrier, he wasn't allowed to do anything of the sort. At least the locals thought that way. But he was charismatic, had a little more money than he should, and lied through his teeth to get the place open. He made more money than anyone else in his hab-block on level 49. He even got to moving his family up to 50 so they would be more comfortable. He could afford it now. He was able to get some better food for them, better blankets at night, and even let his wife stay home from her job on occasion. It was a good life they were having. He just needed one more good sale of a high-end electro Tat and he could get the funds to pay off the right people. In his rush and his wife's encouragement he went to a local group. Not big time people like those on the 55th level who ask for insane interests. It was a smaller group he stumbled upon. He was able to get the money he needed and some more. He could pay the interest back in time. At least he thought that.

When he finally moved up the locals caught wind of where he had came from. They didn't like that they were giving sales to someone so many levels down from them. Practically overnight he stopped seeing any customers. They kept downsizing and downsizing in order to afford the rent and the food. They kept on moving to get away from the letters of this cult he borrowed the money from. They kept on claiming justice. Over time, they either stopped caring or stopped knowing where he lived. The letters stopped. He stumbled on a job on level 50 that was willing to hire him. He started to piece his life back together. It was looking up for Gress again. His wife stopped scolding him and his kid was getting full meals. He had some steady work. He could even pay off that group soon if they try to contact him again.

Priscia didn't know any of this. She got a piece of data from her church. "Gress. Level 50. Hab block b-842." It was more information than she was used to. Darn, she liked the hunt. Her favorite jobs were the ones where she only got a name and she started searching the entire city for the rest. Those were great nights. She will have to do with just hunting him down physically. If the church says that he requires Judgement than she will not question it. It actually didn't take long at all. After getting his name from the local data banks she got his home address, job, history, everything. Looks like he will be going home in a few hours. Better stop him first.

Gress got off of work later than usual. He is fine with getting a little more money in the bank. Keeping above negative again! His path to home takes him down some more bad corridors. He prefers them, as there are less people to bother him with sales of "local produce" and other hot ticket items. Its slightly quieter for the walk home. After a few moments, he noticed that there was no one. Normally he sees at least a few individuals walking along to get to work or some other function. Its not the strangest thing though, but he still started walking with a stronger pace. He wasn't used to being alone in this city. As he went along his normal path, the bridge was closed to get to his hab block. Looks like that was the reason no one was walking here. He must have missed the signs saying it was closed. He started working his way around the bridge. Should be a way nearby on one of these other paths. He was going into more unknown territory. It was strange that there were less and less offshoots. Still no one else was around. He was getting a little nervous. Its been a half hour and not another face at all? He may not trust anyone, but he still likes seeing someone else. He has to be going down the wrong path if no one else is doing this too. Maybe one of the offshoots he passed is the right way.

He turned around and saw someone else in the path. "Finally! I don't suppose you know how to get to hab b-842? The bridge I normally take is out. I will pay you for your trouble!" the woman cocked her head to the side. Her deadlocks glowing a slight green in the dark tunnel. She said something that Gress could only just not hear. "What was that? Sorry, the rain is heavier tonight. Can you repeat? I can pay you if you know the way out of here." He approached her slowly. Confident he can now get home soon.

"Gress, right?" She said. It was loud, almost coming from behind him it echoed so well. Without even thinking he was running. She had a mask on, so he wasn't even certain it was her in the first place. Down this path. To the left. Right. Right again. He didn't hear any other footsteps. Was he even right to run? She could have been trying to help him. No. She knew his name. This wasn't good.

He rounds another corner and saw a flash of green. He froze. Nothing was around here. No green lights anywhere. He was just imagining it. He needed to take a break. He never runs this much. Leaning against a wall, he stops under a light. If he catches his breath a bit he can continue. Hopefully he can find his way to a main pathway. The advertisement across from him flickered black and back with her face. That mask almost looks like it could come out of the screen at any point. "Gress. You have a dept to pay. Like you agreed to, Justice will set you straight. He will decide if you are good or not." On the screen then were camera shots of him running through the alleys just a moment before. He watched in horror as the cameras flickered through the entire run. Eventually settling on watching him now, leaning under a light. He couldn't move out of fear. Even if he did, he saw no ways out. He was in a box now. The corridor he came in here from is no longer there.

A burning smell entered his nose as a large green scythe came out of the wall behind him. It glowed a bright green as it came out more and more from the wall. It twisted to the side, bisecting his body across the waist. Then was pulled back swiftly.

"Send me more interesting jobs next time, please." Priscia said to the communication line.

"Your job is to send people to Judgement. Nothing more. Do not complain." The voice relied back into her ears.