I finished the second draft of that story I posted before. Read it, or don't.

In The Room

“He’s still in there, sir.”
Sergeant Harris set his bottle of antacids on the corner of his desk. Strewn with papers, a half dozen filthy coffee mugs, and what was either a variety of very small, very sad raisins, or mouse turds, the desk had seen better days. As had Sergeant Harris. He hadn’t had a good nights sleep in going on three weeks, sometimes getting less...