He is right on that. We don’t know if there are microphones around.
I enter the room, and I’m greeted by a few elegant sinks and three cubicles, of which one has a maintenance sign. I open the two normal ones, and I don’t find anything else besides a WC.
I look at the phantom door and try to open it.
It is locked.
You know what? I’m kinda sick of this.
I prepare myself emotionally and physically for this, inhaling deeply. I lift my leg and kick the door.
It seems the gym helped you.
This is as far as she can compliment me with when she sees the open door and a pair of stairs inside it.
I don’t even get to go look for Blake, as I see him entering. He glares to see if something happened to me, then he looks at the dark pair of stairs from behind the door.
He doesn’t say anything, but goes up the stairs after lighting up the lantern he took from Lucas. The only object he trusted him with.
I have a gun I don’t know how to use at my back, a knife in my high heels, a lantern that I take out of my shorts pocket, and a walkie-talkie with which we could communicate with Lucas and Paul. Lucas is the only one with a phone, so we had to find another method.
I follow him up the stairs with small steps, not knowing what awaits us. The stairs are in a long spiral, and I ask myself if this building has some sort of tower I didn’t know about and a Rapunzel they held captive.
We reach their end and see a door, which we slowly open. What is behind it takes all the air in my lungs.
“Oh my God,” I say while taking Blake’s hand into mine and moving forward beside him inside the room.
I can feel Blake starting to shiver and squeezing my hand while getting closer to it, probably asking himself if the image in front of us is real. Or rather, if the person we are seeing is real.
Tick nails in her hands and legs, the head bent down, the long, gold hair stained with blood that is dripping on the weak body. And that’s not all.
“Blake, this is the dress from my dream.”
My lips are trembling while speaking, and hot tears are already reaching my thin t-shirt.
“The dress from your dream? Anmara, what the hell did you dream about?” he asks in a scared voice, looking at me with tears in his eyes as well.
I look back at the girl. Her dress has the exact same tear on her left side as I had. It exposes her scratched calf, full of coagulated blood.
“Me looking like her,” I resume, because the finale of the dream was close to what I’m seeing.
The only difference is that the lifeless being in front of us is a sacrifice, and her blood has written on the wall what I didn’twant to see. I thought that Marshall was the only one making these kinds of experiments…
A bird that seemed lost?
The perfect sacrifice?
No, more than that.
A successful experiment.
See you soon.
The signature seems a B over an O, and as they are Bianca’s initials, it seems I was more wrong than I could have ever imagined.
This is bad. Really, really bad.
More than that, when Blake gets closer and lifts the girl's face with the lantern, he immediately puts it down. The terror surrounds us, and the tears start flowing aggressively from our eyes, together with quivering sobs and a strong embrace.
