A delicious tingle runs through my body as I recall the feeling of her lips on my skin.
The elevator is empty, besides me. I haven't seen any of the strange Level Two folk. Probably because they evacuated.
I'm curious as to how the whole thing went down. What made Mr. Roselyn shoot Enrico?
I clench my fist.
Whatever the reason may be, I will never forgive him.
The elevator doors open on Level Two.
The floor is completely in the dark, minus a dim, flickering light in the corner.
The chunk of the room I could see contains overthrown chairs, spilt food— even a table that had cracked in half.
I look back at the elevator. This is really Level Two? ...How?!
The silken tablecloth that once lay on the table flutters and dances with the wind in the dark.
Something pricks the hairs on my neck. My gut tells me I should just turn on my heels and leave.
Yet, that tingle of mischievous douses my veins.
Turn back? Nah, I'm Caucasian.
I set foot onto the dining area and the elevator doors shut behind me.
The only thing I can make out past the broken table now is what seems to be a circle of chairs.
I place a hand on the chair closest to me, sighing.
That's when I hear shuffling.
Shuffling that was not caused by me.
The tablecloth couldn't 'shuffle' like that either (Sorry to offend you, Cloth. You're a great dancer).
I prick my ears. I'm not alone, I can sense it.
Adrenaline creeps its way into my nerves, causing my palms to clam up.
Oh shit. I whip my head around, but the room is nearly pitch black.
"Who is it?" I blurt out into the darkness.
"Anna." Her German accent vibrates through the room, eerily clear.
"Why are you down here... in the dark?" I gulp.
Cold air circulates throughout the space, settling with an ominous tone.
"You know what she told me when she entrusted me with the mission?"
"...Who did?" I pause.