A key changes a life.
Eighty-seven keys, eighty-seven people who must disappear.
When the old man in the archives handed the last handful to me, he said: "You are the eighty-seventh and the last one."
I asked him where the first eighty-six had gone.
He didn't answer, but pointed to the iron cabinet in the basement.
The moment the iron cabinet was opened, I smelled the smell of blood——
There were no documents in there, just a list.
Everyone on the list has been marked "processed."
And I am the eighty-seventh.
