writing prompt #2//What's In A Name

{This is writing prompt #2, What's In A Name. It took me twenty four minutes to write, with a time limit of thirty minutes. It features a secret meeting, with a mysterious girl attending alongside dangerous members.}

She sat at the edge of the table, hands gripping each other. To the world, she was invisible, a minuscule puff of dust that someone forgot to flick away. She was a mistake, a mark someone failed to erase entirely. Her dark hair covered her face as she looked down at her lap.

The meeting was top secret. All members were sworn to secrecy. It was held late into the night, when shadows conquered the world and monsters were afraid to come out.

It wasn't difficult to get into the meeting - all that was needed was the password: hollow muffin. It was more difficult to get there. Cross a dozen streets and dodge a stampede of cars, creep down the darkest of alleys and jump a few fences, and one might just find the entrance, guarded by a toothless man who only allowed entrance with the password and 5 dollars in his Chipotle cup.

Several men were clustered around the table, all terrifying and dangerous. Tattoos snaked up their arms, smoke clouds loomed into the air, and ripped sleeves exposed arms strong enough to bend steel.

The girl was the only one out of place. No one knew why she was there except for the head members of the organization who explained that they needed her to confirm facts and calculations. Her intelligence was as fast as the bullets that escaped their guns. They only knew about her from a reference. No one asked her anything about herself.

"We are tracking down three top secret spies that wish to shut down our operation entirely. They are members of the opposing association I.G.N.I.T.E.," spoke one of the burly men, tapping at a few pictures up front. He looked over to the girl for confirmation.

She continued looking down, but she could sense his look. The man received a nod from her and continued.

"The first goes by the name of Jacob Cursaw." He gestured at the picture of a young man with dark eyebrows and a bruised eye, staring defiantly. "The second is Veronica Velselm." The man pointed at a picture of a girl with long dark hair and a long scar that ran from her forehead to her mouth. "And the third is Toria Lular." A girl with short red hair and a scattering of freckles across her face looked threatening in the picture, especially with her split lip.

They all turned to the girl at the end of the table to ensure their information's accuracy. She nodded quickly, her shoulders hunched.

"We'll take a break while we retrieve more files for the next session. Dismissed."

All the men rose from the table. One of them, taller than the rest, approached the girl. His unruly hair flopped as he knelt beside her, his smile unsettling. "What makes you think you know better than we do, Miss Goody Two Shoes?"

The girl cowered, shrinking away.

"Come on, man, leaver her alone. You don't even know her name," someone called from the other side of the room.

The guy crouching near the girl chuckled. "What's in a name?" His hand drifted to the girl's arm, but before he could touch her, she snatched it in an excruciatingly painful grasp. "What the-,"

She looked up for the first time, and the man gasped.

On her face was a scar stretching from her forehead to her mouth. She sneered and said tauntingly, "Yes, what is in a name?"

The men in the room were flabbergasted as she swiped the classified papers from the table. They scrambled to action but were too late.

Secret Agent Veronica Velselm already had jumped out from the window, papers in hand, information in mind, and her name in her heart.

(Picture provided by Wix.com)