The lights went out half a second later and left Evangeline in the dark once again, the new silence becoming even eerier as the last words of their conversation seemed to echo in her mind. Using her memory to find the bedside table and placing the telephone back in its original spot, the woman took a deep breath and left her bed once more. Though the room was pitch black again and there were no windows to guide the woman's steps by the light of the moon and stars outside, Angie cautiously walked back over to the door that led into the hallway with the knowledge that there was no way she'd be sleeping that night.

The power must've gone out, that was the only logical explanation for the sudden loss of electricity. But Evangeline also knew that the building she was staying in wasn't a fancy hotel like Stark wanted to believe, it was a laboratory with scientists working around the clock, though she had yet to see them in action. Or at all. 

As quiet as possible, the woman wrapped her hand around the brass doorknob and pulled the door open to reveal a hallway just as dark and invisible as her bedroom was. Not a sound could be heard besides Angie's slow breathing and her bare feet making contact with the wooden floorboards beneath her. She tried to remember the route they'd taken from the foyer, tried to recall the number of doors they'd passed after climbing the flight of stairs, and started feeling her way across the corridor with her hands pressed against the walls, just as she'd done to get from her bed to the light switch.

Her reason for wanting to end up in the foyer was simple: she didn't like the dark and the entryway of Stark's labs had enormous windows perfectly capable of letting moonlight into the lobby-like room. And there were comfortable-looking chairs in there, she'd have somewhere to sit with her thoughts as company.

After reaching what she assumed was the end of the short hallway that separated her from the stairway, her hand came to a break in the walls and then fumbled around for a grip on what she hoped was the wooden railing of the slightly-spiraled staircase that would take her to the first floor. Upon further inspection (and nearly falling down the flight of stairs that she thought had been a little more curved in shape), Evangeline slowly began to make her descent. With each step she took, she began to doubt her memory of the path they'd taken to their rooms.

When her bare foot finally touched the flat surface of the first floor, she let out a gasp as her skin met the freezing touch of tiled ground. Tile. Not wood.

"Damn it," She muttered under her breath, but refused to go back upstairs to make the long perilous journey to her room. If she was as hopeless with directions as she was beginning to realize, Evangeline knew she'd only end up even more lost than she was then. The only way to go was forward with the hopes of entering a room with windows that could aid her blindness.

Angie continued to walk on, her hands extended out in front of her as if she was ten years old, playing 'Marco Polo' with Steve and Bucky in Central Park. The memory made her smile, but the expression of happiness was completely erased when a small light appeared in the distance. It wasn't subtle, like that of the moon shining in through a windowpane. It was red, yellow, and orange, flickering down what appeared to be a hallway beginning not too far from where Angie was searching in the dark. A candle resting on a stand about a forth of the way up from the floor.

With renewed energy, the woman quickened her pace now that she could see the path to the light and started jogging, trying to step lightly as her bare feet smacked against the tiled floor. With the aid of the candle, Angie noticed that the walls weren't the same as the pleasantly decorated ones where she, Howard, and Peggy had first entered the building. They were white, sterile like Evangeline first imagined when Mr.Stark mentioned his laboratory in the States. They were what a real lab was supposed to look like and matched the tiled floor perfectly.

As Evangeline continued to grow nearer and nearer to the source of the light, her pace began to slow and her relief from finally finding a means of seeing her surroundings faded into nothing. The light she was running towards wasn't just a candle on a stand like she assumed; Angie thought the candle was being held by a piece of metal or wood resting on the floor.

Boy, was she wrong.

Slowly, what once had been relief transformed into fear as she squinted her eyes to get a better view, to make sure she wasn't just imagining the sight before her.

Standing at the end of the hallway was a little girl in a small, white nightgown, her dark hair hanging down her shoulders to the bottom of her rib cage and a petite, pale hand gripping the rusty brass plate that held the flickering waxy beacon. Her spare hand hung loosely at her side, holding the worn paw of a stuffed rabbit that at one point had been white, but was now gray with age and missing one of its floppy ears.

The woman was only a few yards away when she came to a complete stop and noticed the pool of liquid gathering on the floor at the girl's feet.

Blood.

The girl lifted her head and exposed a pair of eyes with white pupils, almost as milky in color as the fabric of her nightgown, that seemed to bore into Evangeline's soul.

"Don't be scared," The girl began in a quiet, innocent voice, but Evangeline's heart was already thundering in her chest. "I'm just looking for my papa."

Evangeline didn't say a word in response, she couldn't even breathe as her skin became chilled and the candle began to flicker rapidly in the girl's hand, like a warning flag signalling that it was time for the woman to go. Angie was paralyzed and the bleeding girl took a step towards her.

"Can you help me find him?"

With a sudden gust of wind, the candle was blown out.

Angie spun on her heel and ran.

**********

"Angie?" Bucky spoke in a confused tone as her voice cut mid-sentence and the line went dead. Quickly, the man began to examine the device, thinking that it may have broken or lost power half-way through the call. But to his dismay, the machine's state hadn't changed. The power running through the telephone was fine, leaving Buck with the dull sound of solemn, monotonous beeping of a dead call. 

"What's wrong?" Steve must've noticed his confusion from across the small campsite and came to the rescue. Bucky just shook his head.

"I don't know, the call just dropped."

A moment of silence passed between the two.

"Maybe there was a power-outage," Steve tried to cheer up his friend. "We can try to call her back in the morning after everyone else has had their turn." He walked away and woke up the next soldier in line to make a phone call, leaving Bucky feeling just as nervous as he'd been before.