The 34th Floor - Chapter 29 - Rachel

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Author's Note:

I'm picking up on updating and decided it wouldn't be fair of me to make you wait a month longer so I'm posting his chapter now. I do warn you that I have not proof read and I assure you that I probably have a million of mistakes, but I'm in no interest to check that at this point. I hope to go back and fix them soon. For those of you who were finally looking for some movement and action, we have Rachel taking the lead to some suspense. There is a lot of stuff in italics and I hope you guys have not forgotten about the leather book Grace found in a few chapters back. Rachel had it in her possession and she's not afraid to use it her advantage.

I hope you enjoy this chapter and are expecting the next one soon. Read, comment, and vote. [=

The 34th Floor

Chapter 29:

Rachel

The wind was rustling somewhere outside, pounding against the metal surfaces using to shield the glass windows. Curled in a corner, I rocked myself back and forth, feeling Cade’s body somewhere near mine. A slow snore was escaping his lips as I tuned out the audible noise with a leather bond-book in my hands. My eyes focused on the first page of journal and I read silently under my breath.

I may be no survivor, but may this book fall into the hands of the one who may survive.

My pride, my self-satisfaction, and my bitterness have driven me to this place, a place that has been constructed by an adversary, who finds no mercy for his guests. What could I have known when I stepped through those wooden doors of the house? I had not expected windows shielded from bright life, nor had I had yearned to step foot into a trap that could very well be the death of me. I had simply come to offer a few words to an enemy, but he had not been looking for peace, but rather death.

I released the breath I had somehow been holding. The cold air brushed against the pages as I continued to read the delicate handwriting of a gentleman.

I had rounded the corner to a beautiful gallery accessorized with stunning vases and antique rugs. A collection of books all to my back, and a gold frame stood right before my eyes. There he was, my opponent, a black suit embracing his broad shoulders and following down his torso elegantly with a pair of patching black pants, the smug smile spreading across his face as he saw me standing before him in a cheap suit and a pair of pants that had been on sale just the other day. He had that mischievous glint in his eyes as if he knew something I didn’t, and that’s all it took to convince me too look away. However, the image was so vividly sketched into my mind that its reflection remained in front of my eyes, following me as I looked around the room. What a beautiful place it was, but what a shame that it belonged to such a man like him. My eyes traveled down to the tiles beneath my feet as I examined the beautiful colors and painted strokes, but they had been jumbled and forced together as if they did not fit. I walked on each one, marveling at the tiny patterns drawn on each one. However, the moment I stepped on the center piece, a massive piece, something so huge, so great, hurled towards me. I had but the slightest time to react as I fell to the ground, clutching the edge of the ground, and staring sickly at the wound began to forming on the side of my arm. What a cruel man, I had thought as I pressed the opening in my arm, forbidding the blood from staining my suit. My eyes eyed the pack of knives that had slowly receded to their secret spot in the ceiling. Kneeling down to the ground, my eyes fell on the tiles beneath my body. With graceful fingers, I pried a tile off the ground and slid each of the tiles into place to reveal a portrait of a fallen angel, one I vividly remember from an art journal my mother use to keep. She had told me it was her favorite piece one that showed a man’s message to a friend, who had slowly become his enemy. And that’s when I understood, clutching my right arm, cursing the portrait behind me, who had a man laughing wickedly, that I was the friend and now the enemy.

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