Brooke Bolander
D.O.B.: November 07, 1981
Height: 5'8"
Eyes: Gray
Hair: Brown, with large blue streaks
Specialties: Flayings, cannibalism, and Kurt Cobain

The other agents stood huddled on the other side of the room. Every once in awhile one would toss a nervous glance at the figure bound on the tall handtruck, but for the most part they talked soley amongst themselves. There was unrest among the GIA's elite, and the cause of it was sitting in a straightjacket across the room.

"I tell you we can't risk it!" one of the sunglass-wearing figures intoned, keeping one eye on the hand truck and the other on his comrades. "She's completely insane! What if she hurts someone?"

"We've no choice in this matter. She may be insane, but she's also our last option. There's a fine line between insanity and genius, you know." The female agent who had spoken ran a hand through her long hair, a weary gesture. "I guess we'd better go speak to her, see what can be done."

The cluster of agents split apart, dark and individual shadows each of them. Some hung back, some settled in the shadowy corners of the room, but a group of three brave souls approached the handtruck. One stepped behind the cart, fumbling with the straps of the hockey mask. that covered the figure's face. The authorities had said it was to keep her from biting - that didn't bode well, not at all.

The straps finally came free, and with a nervous jerk the agent pulled the mask away.

"Agents, may I present to you Brooke Bolander," he said in a voice filled with loathing and apprehension. ".....And may God have mercy on us all."

Pale gray eyes in a deathly white face that hadn't seen the sun in months. Red lips that contrasted starkly with her white complexion. A lock of blue hair fell down from her forehead, and she peered out from under it, a move that might have been coquettish in any other woman. With Bolander it was just unnerving. She narrowed her eyes and smiled sinisterly at the three agents standing before her.

"The last Double Agent tried to test me. I ate his liver, with some farfa beans, and a nice kiante."

She made a horrible slurping sound, and all three of the agents stepped back involuntarily. The other female regained her composure quickly and took a step forward, getting closer than either of the two males dared. "Look Bolander, no more games. Will you take the job or not?"

The girl's face betrayed no emotion as she spoke. "Well, there's not much else for me to do, now is there my dear? I despise being bored, however, and this sounds like an interesing, if not macabe, mission. So consider it done."

As the agents turned to leave, relieved to escape the dark precense, the girl's raspy voice sounded again. "Oh, and Tami?"

The female agent turned. "Yes?"

"Have the bishonens stopped screaming?

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