Scott Hall 1984 Novels & Stories

He stepped aside without a word. Inside it was dark wood and low light and the smell of old money doing what old money did when it gathered in small rooms. A bar along one wall. Tables set with the kind of discretion that said the conversations happening at them were not for the room generally. Men and a few women I half recognised from the city's financial and political edges, the people who sat one seat back from the ones in photographs. Scott was at a table in the far corner. He was seventy one and looked sixty and had the specific quality of a man who had never once in his life been in a hurry. Silver haired. Good suit. The patient eyes of someone who had learned long ago that everything

Michael was so infuriated that he even let out profanity. Although Michael had just scowled at Scott and shut him up, somehow all Scott could hear was Michael calling him in such a sexy voice. This doctor was really too sexy. He smirked. "So cold and scary, but I keep falling more." Michael waved a long needle in the air and glared at Scott. Since his assistant had started telling him about the case, he should have believed the instinct that the patient would be troublesome! "Do you still want your life?" A flawless smile appeared on Scott's face. He grinned and raised his chin provocatively. "I wouldn't mind dying in your sexy hands."

If Hector Hunter was anything like his structures, his office was definitely at the very top. As Scott approached the top floor, a door caught his eye. Brown with golden trim. “Jackpot,” Scott muttered. Scott pushed the door and walked in. A strange feeling rushed through him like a flash flood. Images flooded Scott’s mind faster than he could process. His breath caught in his lungs. Scott grabbed his head. A vein throbbed at his temple. What the hell? The flash of images came with a sharp migraine. Scott rubbed the side of his head with his fingers, trying to ease the pain.

So, they could only step limply to their respective desks to quickly complete Evelyn's request. Scott himself sighed tiredly when he found Evelyn's office door slamming right in his face. 'Why does Evelyn look like a pubescent girl today?' Scott asked himself. Scott also questions whether this has anything to do with his boss' lunch. It seemed Evelyn left with a big smile, why after returning to being the hulk-like this. After securing all the expensive gear - which Evelyn's hulk could damage - Scott then knocked lightly and turned the knob on Evelyn's office door. Not yet seeing Evelyn's face, Scott closed the door again because the coffee cup was flying toward him. Pray for him to come out

she said, turning around and retreating back inside her room. Scott stood up. "Sir, I'll get something from my room. I'll be back in a minute." "Go ahead." Jack nodded his head. Scott left Jack's office, returned to his room, and took refuge there for a few minutes, taking comfort in the solitude of his room. After 15 minutes, he went back to Jack's room and taught Briana more about his job and responsibilities at the Erros Company while his boss kept a close eye on him.

Everything looked sleek and expensive. Harold walked slightly ahead, checking each door number until he stopped at a pair of tall black doors with Scott’s name etched in silver on the glass panel beside them. I took one deep breath and then pushed the doors open without knocking. The sudden burst into the room startled Harold so much that he immediately bowed his head toward Scott. “Sir... my deepest apologies. She insisted—” Scott looked up from his desk, and the moment his eyes met mine, the world stood still. He rose slowly from his chair, a warm smile spreading across his handsome face.

Scott's embarrassment was overshadowed by the urgent need to disable the bomb. Tears streamed down his face as he sobbed, his body shaking with desperation. He tried to steady his hands, but they trembled uncontrollably. “I still haven’t gotten a girlfriend,” Scott whispered between his tears. “She is supposed to give me an answer tomorrow.” I couldn't even cry or scream, I just shut my eyes and looked into heaven. This is it, I'm coming to you, Lord, although it's early, please welcome me with open arms. Since I’ve suffered enough on earth, I'm definitely not going to hell. Time of death: 25/9/2025

Caitlin had stepped out of the room to take a phone call. This was his chance! He quickly left his room and went to confront Caitlin. Caitlin, standing in a quiet corner of the hallway, was talking on the phone when she felt someone walking behind her. Instinctively, she turned around to see Scott approaching. “Scott!” she said coldly. “Caitlin! I didn’t expect you to have so much power, hooking up with NO.8’s Benjamin!” Scott sneered. “Does it concern you?” Caitlin was done with him and didn’t feel like wasting time. She started to walk away, but Scott blocked her path.

“It belongs in a horror movie, not a foyer.” Faith ignored him. “We’re not moving it tonight,” Scott said. Phillip rolled his eyes. “If you’re gonna swear, do it properly. Not in Morse code.” “Fine,” Scott said, and let a laugh out with it. “Shit. Happy?” They turned back into the hall. Shoes crushed glass; the runner sighed. Moonlight thinned. None of them looked over their shoulders. Behind them, the mirror held their leaving in a hundred broken angles and did not blink.

Bruce snapped, hauling Scott out of the hell he’d plummeted into. He jerked his head up, blinking. God, he’d forgotten all about this man standing in his office. And now he didn’t have time for him or the vendetta that had brought both of them low. Urgency spiraling through him, Scott shot to his feet and strode across the room. Removing a large picture from the wall, he revealed the safe behind it and quickly punched in the code to open it. He withdrew the thick, brown file inside, then slammed the safe door shut, not bothering to replace the painting.