Praefectus held the cigarette between his fingers, slowly letting a breath of smoke out, floating up to mingle with the rest hovering near the ceiling. Gone with the Wind showed on the long red curtain hanging from the wall opposite him, playing out some meaningless drama between Scarlett O'Hara and Rhett Butler. Praefectus slipped the flask from his breast-coat pocket and took a long pull off of his 'prescribed' Irish whiskey.

A shadow appeared over the picture, down in one of the lower rows, someone likely heading for their car. Wait, there was two. Well, a man must be planning to get lucky, leaving the picture early.

A loud noise echoed through the cinema, and a sharp pain ran suddenly through Prafectus's shoulder. He looked down, and saw a faint crimson trickle running down his torso.