Contrast

Chapter One: Discisions.

He sat in the driver's seat of the pickup truck. He knew that if he opened that door he would have made the decision.

Everything he had planned for the last two months, all the times he had rehearsed it in his mind, all of it could be called off if he just didn't open the door. He was alone in the parking lot. In parking lot 2C. He had made sure of that with the three orange traffic cones and about three meters of "caution" tape he had put up early this morning. He stole a glance at the mask that lay on the seat next to him.

It was a pretty mask all things considered. A slight chuckle escaped his lips, brought upon by the irony of his pretty mask he would use to do so many awful things. It was completely two sided. One half white, one half black. Cut clean down the middle except for the moustache that resembled the zodiac sign by switching up the colour scheme at only this one place. He gave out a deep sigh as he looked around the vacant underground lot. His eyes watched the "Out of order" sign on the elevator and he recalled how rude he had been when he called customer service for the fourth time two days ago to complain that he had gotten stuck in the lift and that he would be pressing charges if they didn't fix the fucking thing. There was nothing wrong with it, he just needed it to be free of all other passengers today.

His hands were gripping the steering wheel hard enough to make the knuckles gleam white. He let his head fall against the steering wheel with the gradual change in grip making the cheap leather cry out. He used the proximity to his watch to check the time. He had three minutes to decide. Life or death was his choice. He knew opening that door lead to death, but then again, staying lead to another kind of death.

"Fuck."

For the last time he rubbed his weary eyes and looked at the mask. His posture straightened, his mind cleared and he switched off his conscience. It was time. He put on the mask, loaded his gun, and opened the door.