Future Darkly: The White Room

Vincent’s a creep with a bus route full of eighteen-year-old girls in smart uniforms. Quiet type. Keeps his head down, hides behind thick glasses and a patchy beard. The students never look twice—they’re busy squealing about parties and boys while he slides through industrial blocks, dropping them one by one like it’s just another Monday. Last stop. Aidra. Sucking a red lollipop, smacking her lips around it, totally clueless she’s living rent-free inside his head. She introduces herself for the hundredth time, chirps about how they’ve never talked, then spits the candy into the trash and hops off smiling. Vincent nods. Drives around the corner. Stops. Gloves, tweezers, ziplock. He fishes that sticky lollipop out like it’s gold, seals it up, and grins like a perv who just got lucky.