All things come and go. Good, bad, but not it. It comes when you least expect it.
    Overtime work as any other day. Two colleagues spend the night shift in their cubicles. Not three, not four---two. Alone. Excluding it.
    It lurks in the corners, hides in the shadows, disguised in the dark, a silhouette anticipating to strike. It did.
    It, human; predator, prey.

    You suddenly wake up.
    You grab your cup of joe, the fuel of your energy. You should've slept earlier.
    The room was engulfed in the clacking of keyboards. Everyone were like bees in a beehive.
    And you? Procrastinating about deadlines and projects. But you know you'll do it later. You always do. You only work here part-time here because your home is two blocks away.
    After work, you headed for home. And there you see it.
    An office with lights on at midnight. Drunk in curiosity, you walk in.
    Two corpses, huddling in the corner of a room wih cubicles---your office.
    Make that three.
    All things come and go.
    "Deal with it," a sentence filled the room.