Logan was busy putting his pencil to paper, finishing a document he'd been meaning to finish up before the end of the week. It was hard, it was boring and it made him want to blow his own brains out, but in the end it was his job. The lampshade on his old oak desk dimly lit the study with a yellow glow. His arms were getting tired, like a car running out of gas.

There was a knock on the door. A loud one, like the person seemed agitated, or even excited.

Logan pushed his chair back and rose up from it, turning around to face his door. As he walked down the stairs to his front door, the knocking got more and more aggressive and louder. He turned the knob to his door and there, facing him, was an old man. Wrinkles littered his face, with moles here and there. His skin was so pale that you'd mistake him for Dracula. He had a bald spot and grey hair, with a moustache. He looked professional, wearing a coal black tuxedo, buttoned up.

"You're Logan Lancaster, right?" he asked.

Logan was intimidated at the man's knowledge of his name.

"May I come in?" said the man as he made his way towards the door. Logan closed it as he walked out onto the porch.

"No."

The man laughed.

"You have a wife, right?"

Logan nodded.

"I have something to ask of you, Logan." the man got closer as he started to speak in a hush tone.