The Lord of Misrule

22 -- Head of the Serpent

"Got here quite fast..." muttered Ada, but Robbie didn't hear. Instead, he almost ran to Steve. Ada followed only to the records room door, listening, but out of sight and thinking it might be better if he Steve never knew she was there.

"Hello! Uh..." began Robbie, but Steve talked over him.

"Get up to the security room! Restart the computer and wait five minutes. If the cameras don't come back then do it again. Rinse and repeat until you get them. Do nothing else. And call me the second the cameras do come back!"

"Okay, but..."

"Don't move from there either!"

"Wait!" cut in Robbie, "There was a scream... We have to check that out."

"I'll do it!" shot Steve.

"Okay, but the..."

"Time! It's running! Go!"

"Bu..."

"Go, go, go!"

Robbie mumbled something more, and then started at a fast walk to the stairs. Ada closed the records room door to a crack and killed the lights to watch from semi-darkness. She'd leave once Steve had left the hall. Thank God he hadn't even given Robbie a chance to tell him she was there. The rear door slammed again, and Ada peeked into the hall—it was empty.

It opened again a minute later, and Steve came into view. He was wet and wearing a sportscoat and jeans—shirt stained with brown sauce. In leather gloved hands he carried a suitcase, and a crowbar that dripped water from the curled end. He slipped into a door further down the hall, didn't shut the door.

A minute passed. He did not reappear. After two more Ada stepped into the hall—what was he doing there? Should she rush past? But he might come out at any minute. An intolerable minute went by and Ada risked it.

Paused before the door he'd slipped into to listen, and after hearing nothing at all, she crept past, peering into the crack. But the room was empty.

Not just of Steve—but of anything. Bookshelves sat bear, a table with no chairs tucked into the corner. But what made her gasp and then throw a wrist to her mouth to stifle was in the corner.

A long black crack in the wall.

Like a hatch—seven feet tall—standing an inch over everything else.

Another secret passage.

One of the others Steve had alluded too. A large book sat half-sticking out of it to prop it open.

Behind, the rear staff door slammed open again. Ada stopped and turned. Whoever it was took a step, a loud, stomping movement. The floorboards moaned from the weight, water splattered with the motion. Another followed, and then again.

"Hello?" said Ada.

Nothing but wind smashing in. Another step came—must've near the corner and Ada slipped into the empty room behind. Pulled the door shut, slapped the light switch for darkness, and pressed herself against the wood. Stared at the open passage—Steve would reappear soon—the thought reached into her chest to scratch at her lungs.

She had trapped herself.

"Why why, why didn't I retreat to the records room?"

Another giants step ended the thought—it came fast enough that she would've been in the hall still had she tried.

More brought it all the closer at an alarming speed, and it stopped before her door. An eerie blue shimmered under from the crack and sprayed across the floor to illuminate her shoes. It danced like flames.