{Washback, Pennsylvania}

I mix up an Iced Coffee, handing it over the counter to the female customer who ordered it.

       She walks out, leaving the store empty.

       I wipe a hand across my sweaty forehead, a headache still pounding away in the back of my skull, a warmth still holding onto me.

       But I completed my step three.

       3; Make it to work on time.

      Check.

       I lean back against one of the counters, some tension releasing from within me. I cross my arms as I wait for the ten minutes to be up before my shift is finally finished.

       It's now 7:20 P.M. I work Friday, Saturday, and Sunday here at the small towns very own Starbucks.

       Friday's I only work 3:30-7:30. But Saturday's and Sunday's I usually work half a day at least.

        I technically don't have to be working.

        With Orenda working full-time, and with her having a decent savings from all the work she did before my time. We're alright financially.

        But I'd just rather be able to contribute something. And it's not half bad either if I'm being honest.

        "Hey Cal!" I look over at Grace who's just come out of the break room.

        Grace; she's in her mid-forties, chocolate brown skin and a smile that can make anyone forget their own troubles.

        I give her a questioning look.

         She dramatically sighs. "Don't you give me that silent treatment." She places her hands on her hips.

         "You know I don't like it." She shakes her head. "I go out for ten minutes to have my break, and what do I come back to?!" She throws her hands up, still looking at me like she's waiting for me to answer her question.

        When I don't give her one, she answers it herself. "A silent Cal!" She sighs exasperatedly, then starts to furiously wipe off a table.

         I feel a smile form on my lips. Pushing off the counter, I take a towel, moving around the counter as I wipe off a table also.

       "Your way too dramatic." I point out, a smirk at the corner of my lips.

         She gives me a teasing smile. "I wouldn't be me if I wasn't." She winks, moving to another table.

         I shake my head.

         Grace was one of the first people I met when Orenda and I moved here three months ago.

       I was looking for a job, and Grace just so happened to be working that day. She set up an interview with her boss for me, then after I got it, she even set it up so she worked when I worked.

       She's one of the few people I actually feel comfortable around, and would even go so far to consider a friend.

       Grace is a mother of two, a single parent who's husband passed away in a car accident three years ago. She works six days a week just to be able to support her family.

        And I occasionally volunteer to watch her kids: A five year old and a seven year old.

         Fun times.

         But I enjoy watching them.

         Because unlike older people. These kids don't see me and automatically think I'm strange, weird, or some delinquent who's running away from home or something.

        They just see me as well....me.

        Like Grace does.

        The bell on the door jungles, signaling a customer coming inside.

        I glance over towards the door.

       Someone I've never seen in town before walks in; Tall, slim build - yet noticeably muscular, clean shaven, short blond hair, stern brown eyes, dressed in a black suit.

      Suddenly I don't feel so comfortable.

        He seems to radiate 'danger,' his outfit reminding me of one of those spy movies where you see people dressed in expensive suits and suspiciously follow you around everywhere.

       I walk back behind the counter.

        He glances around, taking in every detail. Then his eyes land on me.

        A sudden wave of heat runs through my chest, and I fight not to wince as a painful stab jabs me right behind my eyes.

        I take a breath.

        He looks me over, his eyes settling on my beanie and staying there.

        Slowly bringing my hands up, I self-consciously pull it down further over my head, looking down at the counter.

        I hear his footsteps across the tile floor as he begins to walk closer, my heart oddly accelerating, the heat washing up into my head.

        I absentmindedly play with a loose string on my jeans. Waiting. I abruptly frown as an odd feeling envelops me out of nowhere.

       Dread.

       I mentally shake it off, looking back up at the stranger.

        As soon as I look up, he stops in his tracks - his shoes literally squeaking on the tile floor like something out of a comic show.

        His wide eyes stare into mine from ten feet away, and I watch as astonishment  flickers across his stern face.

        My head gets hit with another bolt of pain, my hands going out to grasp the counter - as-if it was some sort of life support.

        I let a breath out through my nose.

      Just a migraine. You have those all the time. Nothing new.

         He continues his walk forward. His eyes never leaving my face, his posture now looking slightly cautious.

         As he stops in front of the counter, his eyes leave me just long enough for him to glance over the menu.

         "Three dark roasts." His deep voice startles me from my thoughts. "Grande." He finishes with, eyes coming back down to me.

        I avoid eye contact, giving him a nod to show I heard him.

        I place the order. "Thirteen dollars and fifty cents." I mumble out, glancing over at Grace who's humming to herself as she finishes up the tables.

      Another wave of unease washes over me.

        He digs into his pocket, and I grab a 16oz cup from the holder. Filling it up with the correct liquid.

        He places exact change on the counter, then he glances back towards the door.

       I take the money, stashing it in the cash-register.

       Shutting it, I place a lid on the drink that I've already filled, sliding it across the counter.

       Automatically fixing the last two coffees, I keep my head slightly down. But my eyes continue to watch him.

       His shoulders are tense now, some sort of urgency radiating off him as he keeps glancing from me, back to the door.

      Odd.

      I place the three cups in a cardboard cup holder, pushing it over towards the man.

      He hastily takes it without a word, swiftly turning and heading back out the way he came.

      Well. That wasn't rude at all.

     Grace walks over, still humming some tune to herself. She glances over at the clock on the wall.

       7:26 P.M.

       She looks back at me. "Why don't you go get ready to leave? I think I can handle everything until Sandy gets here." She smiles, motioning me towards the back of the shop.

        I nod, walking towards the break room. I slip the black apron over my head as I continue my steps, taking it completely off.

       I open the door to the room, shutting it behind me.

       The break room is just a large room in the back of the shop. A couple lockers placed in the corners for the employees things, a table and a few chairs sit over in the middle of the room, a few books and catalogs spread carelessly around.

       Nothing special.

       Opening my locker, I place my apron inside. Grabbing a dark blue hoodie and my normal white short-sleeve shirt, I place them on a chair.

        Grabbing the bottom of my dark green long-sleeve shirt-that I'm forced to wear for work. I pull it up and over my head, then quickly pull my white shirt on.

        Plucking my necklace out from under my shirt, I run my fingers over the smooth edges. An odd calmness running through me.

          I shake my head, placing it back under my shirt.

          Pulling my hoodie on over my white shirt, I fix my beanie that's popped slightly off my head while changing.

        I wince, grabbing the backrest of a chair as I get hit by a dizzy spell. My headache starting back up, warmth spreading throughout me once more.

       Deep breaths.

        I place my green shirt back in the locker, grabbing my backpack and shutting the locker door before I walk out of the room.

        Grace is currently leaning on the counter, absorbed in a magazine she has her face stuck in.

        She looks up as I come into her eyesight.

         Walking over to me, I'm taken by surprise as she wraps me in a hug. Her short frame barely bringing her head up to my shoulders.

        "Happy birthday kiddo!" She exclaims, patting me on the arm as she steps back.

         I give her a genuine smile, happiness tingling in my chest. "Thanks Grace. Night." I say, continuing my walk towards the door.

          As my hand lands on the door, I automatically turn my head back towards Grace as she says something else.

          "Night Cal!" She waves, then a smirk shows up on her face. "Don't eat too much pizza ya hear!" She yells with a smile.

           I shake my head at her, a smile on my own lips as I push the door open and walk outside into the dark.

           I bring my head back around, the door jingling shut behind me. I immediately run into something.

           "Hey!" An older voice shouts in surprise as she bounces off me, falling backwards.

           Stopping in my tracks, I immediately react by bringing my arm out to help right the old lady before she actually falls on the ground.

         "Sorry." I apologize, wincing at how stupid I was.

          How could I have just knocked into an old lady? That's like the lamest accident in history.

          Although, she is kinda hard to see with how short she is.

          She's only about four foot something, long sandy grey hair, dressed in some strange black and purple dress.

         That's when I notice: She's not alone.

          More unease twists in my gut as I take in the same man from three minutes ago.

         He's leaning against a railing that's part of the cafe's little yard, sipping on his coffee as he stares at me from twenty feet away.

         Then, my eyes land on two other people who are dressed in suits also.

         Another man, and a women. Each sitting relaxed in one of the cafe chairs, a drink in their hands.

         And they're all staring at me.

         My heart misses a beat as I spot two dogs that are laying obediently beside the two people. Their ears now perked, attention on me, noses sniffing the air.

         They look like Dobermans.

         But, they just don't seem right.

         They stare at me with intelligent beady eyes, their muscular body's almost completely still. Their slick coats shimmering, like a ripple in a puddle. A large black collar perfectly fitted around each of their necks. 

          My attention goes back to the lady I almost knocked down, my hands coming back down to my side.

          Something doesn't feel right.

         The old women looks up at me as she's straightening her clothes, and our eyes lock.

          I squint as a blinding flash of pain cuts through my head, a grunt escaping my mouth.

          The lady's eyes widen as she examines my face, her eyes stuck on mine. Unblinking.

          Then, her eyes cloud over.

           The dogs stand up, their hackles raised. The man from the cafe walks so he's standing behind me. The other two standing up as well.

          I take a step back as the lady advances towards me, her eyes only getting creepier by the second.

          She never takes them off me.

          Another flash of pain runs through my head, spreading down my back.

           She suddenly gasps, her eyes literally lighting up in the dark night.

          What's happening?

           Then, she speaks.

           "The Lost One." Her voice comes out low, ancient.

            I raise a brow in confusion.

             I see the other three people-who I'm now officially calling Suits, exchange looks. Then they all start advancing towards me. Even reaching under their outer coats.

            What the.....?

            Look. I'm honestly not in the mood to get kidnapped by these suspicious looking people today, or any-day.

         I glance back at the cafe.

         And I really don't want get Grace mixed into whatever....This is.

           Making up my mind. I make a quick right turn, sprinting down the road.

           I hear a growl from the dogs, and a sudden shout.

          But I'm quickly down the road, wind whipping past me, the only thing on my mind at the moment is to get away from here.

         I head south, aiming to take the long rout back to the house in-case they decide to follow me or something.

Cause I'd rather not lead them back to my house.

Although, if these people are like from the government-which is what they look like. I'm sure they either already know where I live, or can easily find out.

But then there's the question.

Why are there government people after me?

I swear I didn't do anything.

        After four minutes of running and jumping at every small noise, I make it to a corner that eventually leads up towards my house.

       You know, after about seven more minutes of running.

        I look behind me for any sight of pursuers, my body already making the turn around the corner.

       I grunt as my chest impacts with something. Again.

       I fall back onto the hard ground, the force of me running then colliding into something bouncing me backwards.

      I hear a small gasp of surprise from someone, followed by a grunt of pain as the person falls to the ground.

       My eyes shut as I hit the ground, another flash of pain running through me. My backpack falling off behind me.

      I wince as I rub my sore backside, head still pounding away.

       I've really gotta stop doing this.

       "Ow!"

       My eyes snap over to the person I also happened to knock over.

      And sitting on the ground five feet directly in front of me, with a shocked expression on her face mixed with annoyance, is no other than-

       -Roxie Wright.

      Of course.

      I hear a sudden bark from a block away.

      I quickly glance behind me, then stand up.

      I look over at Roxie as I hear her groan again.

      She's rubbing her forehead-which is probably what smacked into my chest. Then she looks up at me with dark green eyes, her bright red hair standing out even in the dark.

       She grunts. "Bates?" She says my name with confusion, obviously not expecting it to be me of all people.

       I feel annoyance run through me, replacing the dread I've felt all day.

       Why does everyone insist on calling me Bates?

       I have a first name people.

       It's like-

       Bates over here.

       Bates over there.

       Bates, Bates, Bates.

       It really gets on my nerves.

       I mean, how much harder is it to call me Cal?

       "-ou doing?" My thoughts snap back to the present, and I realize I've been staring at her for-who-knows how long.

      She's now standing up, looking at me with a raised eyebrow-like I'm crazy.

       "Uh, hello." She waves a hand in front of my face. "I've already repeated myself like twice." She points out, looking highly annoyed.

        I stare at her for a second longer.

        This is strange.

         I don't think Roxie has ever spoken to me throughout the three months I've been living here.

        What's she doing here anyway?

         This is the older part of town, located on the south outskirts. Where buildings are crowded together, creating mazes of alleys that would be easy for anyone to get lost in. The paint on the houses are long nonexistent, roofs slightly crumbled. The ground is practically all cement, fences are falling down.

         It's considered the "Poor," part of town.

         I live on the east outskirts, which is why I'm trying to lose any unwanted followers through the maze of alleys.

         Realizing I'm still staring at her, and she's just staring back with a confused expression. I think up a smart reply.

          "What?"

          Yeah, real genius.

          She sighs, rolling her eyes. "What. Are. You. Doing?" She pronounces each word clearly-as if speaking to a three year old.

          Funny.

          I look back behind me, the sound of rapid footsteps reaching my ears.

Great, they are following me.

          I tuck my hands into my hoodies pocket. "Just going home." I partly lie, looking back at her, my foot starting to tap the ground.

          She raises a brow, not looking convinced. "Well, you sure were moving fast enough." She points out.

          Curiosity sparks in me.

          "What are you doing?" A ask her back.

           She seems slightly put off at my question.

           Frowning, she glances over at the side, not looking like she wants to answer my question.

         "Same." She hesitates. "Just going home." She copies, tucking her own hands into her jean pockets.

          Silence stretches between us.

          Well, this isn't awkward at all.

         I've just got these random people chasing after me and I'm standing here like an idiot when I should be running.

         I honestly don't know why I haven't left her yet.

         Except that my feet feel like they're stuck in wet cement, unmovable.

          "Why are you here?" I finally ask after ten seconds, motioning towards our rundown surroundings.

          If she's going home, then why's she going through the poor part of town when all the rich people live all the way down on the north end?

         Because that's what she is.

         Rich.

        Although, right now she doesn't really look it.

        Her curly red hair is in a messy ponytail, her jeans looking well-worn, small holes dotting her light blue coat.

        She crosses her arms, leaning her head to the side as she stares at me with narrowed eyes.

         "Well, why are you here?" She returns the question, motioning around at the surroundings herself, a small smirk on her lips.

         I raise a brow. "Touché." I say in response.

         She cracks a smile at that, and I can't help but let a small smile of my own slip out.

         "Anyways." She hikes her backpack up onto her shoulder, her smile disappearing.

         I wince as there's a crushing pressure in my head, ears popping.

         "I'll be goi-" she gets cut off as a loud BANG echoes through the alley.

          She flinches away from a small indent that suddenly appears right between where we're standing.

           We both stare down at the ground in shock.

           The suits!

           Are they.....shooting at...us?

           I swing around, and I'm met with the sight of the Suit who came into the coffee shop earlier coming around a corner that's about a hundred yards from us.

          A gun in his hand.

          Okay, that's definitely not good.

          My eyes widen and without bothering to pick up my backpack that's still laying discarded on the ground, I turn around.

          I quickly grab onto a shocked Roxie, pulling her with me as I run down the alley.

In the opposite direction of the shooter.

          She struggles for a second. But then reasoning must of returned to her because she slaps my hand off her arm, continuing to run next to me.

          We turn around a corner.

          "What's happening?!" Roxie gasps, panic clearly in her voice.

          I peak around the corner, only to see the man still running in our direction.

           "I-I don't know." I mumble, panic also beginning to take over any rational thoughts.

            Everything's in a disarray, my mind pulsing with pain, confusion swirling throughout me.

          What is happening?

          What do I do?

          What do we do?

          Am I going to get Roxie killed?

          Am I going to die?

           My breathing picks up, dizziness assaulting my eyesight.

          Then suddenly, there's a comforting warmth on my chest, my head clearing, the dizziness disappearing.

         I bring a hand up to my chest, feeling the stone through my hoodie.

         It's......warm.

          Just like yesterday.

         Only it's not overpowering this time. It's....comforting.

          Straight

        The words come out of nowhere, echoing sharply in my brain-like a knife engraving words in my head.

         I look up, straight ahead.

         There's a narrow entrance that leads to an abandoned mansion.

          The local haunted mansion everyone around here tells ghost stories about.

          I feel a pull in my gut, and a certainty comes with it.

          I know where to go.

          Roxie's just been standing there the ten seconds I've been stuck in my brain, her face waxy as she swings her searching gaze around.

          Grabbing he arm again, I pull her towards the entrance.

          She pulls back on her arm as she realizes where we're going. "Why are we going in there?" She hastily asks. "Are you crazy!" She whisper-shouts as she continues to tug on my fingers that are still locked tightly around her arm.

         I look back at her. "It's either this." I glance back at the pathway. "Or get shot." I point out.

         "Why not the sheriffs office?" She practically pleads.

         I frown, running faster as I hear a dog bark from not too far away.

          "We'll never get there in time." I step over a piece of roof that's in the middle of the filthy walkway, Roxie almost tripping.

          The narrow walkway suddenly stops, opening up into what I can only imagine used to be a grand courtyard.

         There's a fifteen foot tall stone fence that surrounds the property, the entrance being where we just came out of.

         The yard is overrun with grass, stone walkways leading throughout the yard. Grass and moss grow out of cracks that spread over the stone like spiderwebs.

        Old cracked stone statues lay abandoned and neglected throughout the yard. Covered in vines, moss, and plants. The grass almost tall enough to hide all of them.

         Then, there's the mansion.

        I've never actually seen it in person-as I'm new here. But I've heard bits and pieces of the stories that surround this place.

         It's three stories tall, made out of brick, and has boarded up windows almost every seven feet along each level. The front door used to be a glorious two door oak entrance. But now it's rotted and broken, boards nailed along the frame to keep it shut. Except for a small hole at the bottom of it.

        It really does look like something out of a horror movie.

        And with it being dark out.

        I can only imagine how menacing it must look to Roxie.

        I continue on, practically dragging Roxie up the rotten steps.

        "You know." She suddenly says as one of the boards breaks. "Just let me go, I'll be fin-"

        Another BANG rings out, the wood on the deck immediately splintering as a bullet smashes into the wood that's four feet away from me.

        She squeaks in fear, scrambling up the last few steps.

        I hastily follow, sweat rolling down my forehead, heart thundering in my ears.

        But the comforting warmth from the necklace stays.

         Another gunshot rings out and I automatically duck, pushing Roxie through the hole that's in the double doors.

        She grunts as her backpack gets stuck on the hole, the opening not large enough for the both of them.

       I look back at where the gunshots came from.

       Two of the suits are just now coming out of the narrow walkway we just came from.
And as I watch, the two dogs come racing out from behind them, growls clearly coming from their mouths.

        I honestly have no idea how no ones heard any of this racket.

        With trembling hands, Roxie quickly pulls off the backpack, tossing it behind her.

        She goes through again. This time making it all the way inside.

        I quickly duck inside also, my shoulders scraping against the wood as my wider frame barely fits.

        Once I'm inside and turning around, I hear the sound of nails scraping across the wood deck.

       Thinking quickly, my eyes land on a large piece of discarded wood.

       I grab it, jamming it into the hole right as the shape of a dog looms outside.

        I make sure it's as secure as I can make it, then I lean back with a relieved sigh.

        We're safe for the second.

        Roxie's huddled up on the other side of the door, her wide eyes flickering around the room.

         It's a decent sized room that has two staircases with iron railings leading up to the second floor, one on each side of the room.

        Dust covers every inch of the area, cobwebs hanging everywhere, an old grand fireplace directly in front of us. Knocked over sofas and chairs littering the floor.

         I stand up, patting my jeans back pockets.

         Great.

          Nothing.

         I pat my other pockets, with the same results.

         Oh yeah.

         I look back at Roxie. "Where's your phone? I left mine in my backpack that's back in the alley." Urgency leaks into my voice, and I see her eyes widen.

         What?

         She looks back at the hole we just climbed through, her face falling.

         My stomach sinks.

         "It was in my backpack also." She whispers as she points to outside. "Which is out there." Her voice trembles.

        I let a tight breath out, running a hand down my face.

        So I listened to some voice in my head and a feeling in my gut.

        And now look where that's left us.

        Kids, this is a lesson learned.

        Don't trust voices in your head and/or a gut feeling.

        It doesn't work out.

        The growls on the other side of the door suddenly stop, and I hear human footsteps.

        My chest tightens.

       They're coming.

       What now?

        I squeeze my eyes shut, more pain running through my head in repeated pulses, my breathing getting faster.

        Up the stairs

        My eyes snap open.

         I know I said not to trust the voice in my head.

         But what other options do I have?

         I lean down, pulling Roxie up.

         She gives me a questioning glance, but doesn't say anything.

         I start heading towards the stairs, Roxie following close behind me.

         I test the first step, feeling it bend under my weight.

         I think it'll hold.

         Hopefully.

        "Step where I step." I whisper over my shoulder.

        I start up the stairs, trying out each rickety step before actually placing all my weight onto it.

       "Do you think they left?" Roxie quietly asks when we're a little past halfway up the stairs and can't see the front door anymore.

       I stay quiet, trying to pick up any noises.

       The sound of nails running across a wood deck, soft whispers from directly outside the doors. Then, the noise of a board being pulled free.

       I come back to the present.

       "No." I answer her question, shaking my head. "They're still out the-" I get cut off as my left foot falls through the step, my right knee smacking into the other step as I land in a crouching position.

        Roxie let's out a small scream of surprise.

       That could've been worse.

        I automatically bring my right hand up to grab the iron railing, my hand slipping as my foot falls further through the board.

       I grunt out-loud as a white hot pain ignites in my hand.

       I just had to go and say something. Well, Think something.

       I wince, holding my burning hand up-close to my stomach as I use my left to help get myself out of the hole I partly fell through.

       Roxie helps me pull my leg out. "Are you alright?" She asks, worry in her voice.

        I nod, continuing with going up the steps, a slight limp now accompanying me.

        There's a loud crunching noise from downstairs that echoes up the old staircase.

       Which can only mean one thing.

       They're busting down the door.

        We make it to the top and I unclench my smarting hand, looking down at it.

         My stomach turns at the sight of it.

         There must've been a sharp spot on the old railing.

         Cause I don't know how else I would've gotten the five inch long gash across the palm of my hand.

        I clench my hand together.

        No time right now to be examining.

        I hold it close to my chest, my eyes scanning the surrounding.

       This led up to a....Ballroom?

        That's what it looks like.

        It's huge, with cobalt pillars that run along both sides of the room. The room itself is large enough to fit probably three hundred people easily, the floors seeming to be made out of some smooth stone that used to reflect the light from the two large chandeliers that hang above.

       But the floors are now tinted a foggy grey, no gleam present anymore.

       I hear Roxie's quick intake of breath as she takes in the magnificent view.

       My eyes land on the far-end of the room, around five hundred feet away.

      Painted onto the wall, is a scenery, like out of a fantasy book.

     The sky is a bright blue, a huge castle in the background. Crystal clear streams, meadows of lushest green grass with....unicorns galloping around. Creatures of all shapes and sizes filling the picture.

        It looks so.....peaceful.

       My eyes stay glued on the painting, a warm feeling enveloping me.

        There's a BANG, and the sound of scampering dogs echoe up the stairs.

        The painting

        Huh?

         The voice wants me, to go over to the painting that has nowhere to help us escape.

          I don't know about this.

          The sound of footsteps stepping onto creaky stairs fill my ears.

         Sweat drips down my forehead, my hand and head throbbing.

         "Callon!" I look over at Roxie, her alarmed tone of voice startling me.

         She looks down at my chest.

         I follow her eyes.

         I jerk my neck back in surprise as I see steam coming off my hoodie in the exact spot my necklace rests.

        I furrow my brows.

         But it doesn't hurt. It's just warm.

        Quickly, I bring my left hand up to grab the cord from the necklace. Then I pull it up out of my hoodie, holding it out in the air.

        Mine and Roxie's eyes widen as they land on it.

       The usual black stone is now slightly glowing with a white light, pulses of invisible something seeming to float into the air.

       What the-

       GO!

      I actually wince as the voice shouts in my head, the sharp sound bouncing around inside my ears.

       I look back at the painting, feeling something pull me.

       I take a step forward.

        "Callon!" Roxie grabs my arm, her eyes still looking at the glowing necklace. "Where are you going? That's a dead end!" She desperately says.

         I keep my eyes on the painting, something catching my eye.

        I start walking towards it, and I see Roxie look back towards the other staircase that leads to the third floor.

       "Go if you want." I say, my attention still on the picture. "There's nothing up there." I add with complete confidence.

      She crosses her arms, hesitantly inching closer to me.

        We walk quickly across the long distance, and I stop in astonishment as I see what it is that I'd spotted from back there.

      Confusion swirls in me.

       How?

      What....?

       There, blended in on the painting so it's not noticeable unless you know what your looking for-

       Is the same symbol I've been drawing all day.

       The triangle inside a triangle.

       The necklace that's now laying on my hoodie against my chest, suddenly brightens, colors starting to swirl off it to float in the air.

       Roxie stares at it in disbelief, mouth open in shock.

       I watch in stunned silence as the colors drift in the air, over to the painting.

       It touches it.

       I hold a hand up to my eyes as a blinding light fills the room, Roxie doing the same.

       The painting explodes into hundreds of different colors, all swirling together.

        Go in

        I frown.

       It wants me to go in....that?

        "Stop!"

        I turn around. Two suits are just making it up the top of the stairs, their faces full of wonder as they stare over at the swirling colors.

        Urgency fills me, and I get a feeling that out of both choices here.

        Letting those people get us, is the worse one.

       I take a breath, then I grab onto Roxie's arm.

       Guess I won't be completing step 4 today after all.

       And before she can say anything, I place my right hand onto the swirling colors. Then I push my whole body through.

       And before I know it.

       I'm falling through darkness.

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