Turning she walked from the room again and continued down the hall moving more quickly now, chiding herself for being silly. No she might not know how she got here or where here was, but it was just an old building and even old buildings had doors.
But every room she passed had the same oppressive darkness and boarded up windows. Someone sure wanted to keep someone out of here� or maybe in� She shook her head, wincing slightly as the familiar gesture caused the ache to return. �Don�t let your imagination run off Tess. Just get out and you�ll be fine.�
The hallway branched off in front of her, opening on a larger lobby area. A trickle of eerie blue light from somewhere above revealed old floors stretching in front of her. Marble or some kind of expensive looking tile, shone through the dust and debris, and an expansive grand staircase seemed to circle down out of nowhere. The whole area was faintly bathed in wisps of blue light filtering in through a large stained glass window high on the wall.
In the much larger area, the beam of her flashlight was suddenly insignificant but she thought she caught the outline of a large double door in the faint blue moonlight. A happy yet apprehensive cry escaped her lips as she bound towards the exit hoping to escape this terrifying nightmare. She pulled on the large brass handles but the door was locked tight, heavy and solid. She yanked on the handles again, shaking the unyielding wood, desperately but it would not move. No matter how hard she pulled on it and how much she kicked at it, it succeeded only in exhausting her.
Hot tears trailed down her cheeks as she collapsed to the opulent floor, leaning back against the door that wouldn�t let her out. Again, in the tail end of her frightened tantrum she heard a sound. Footsteps up above her and a light breathed sigh.
Exhausted and afraid she closed her eyes and turned off the flashlight. Dropping it in her lap she stuck her cold hands into her pockets and sat alone in the soft shadows of blue light. She felt as if she were underwater, drowning in this desolate place. One hand found the necklace and began turning it over and over in her hand, the feel of the charm with her name on it solid between her fingers. She�d just wait for rescue. Someone would come get her.
What if they never do? A terrifying thought. She could die here. Would anyone know? Did anyone even know she was here? The thoughts were enough to drive her back to her feet, flicking the flashlight back on. You can�t just roll over and give up Tess. You�re stronger then that.
Swift steps carried her out of the blue lit entrance hall, back to the corridor she�d come from; the windows would be easier to get out then the durable door. If she could just find something heavy she could smash out the board and go. Turning away from where she�d come from she flashed a light up on the wall. There was a face staring back at her.
A short scream escaped her, but it was only a photograph. Reaching out a hand she brushed away the layer of dust obscuring the face and then hastily backed away. The person in the picture looked remarkably like her. She was almost identical. The trembling beam of light dancing over the picture illuminated a name plaque briefly. Closing both hands on the flashlight, to steady the beam, she moved forward again and looked at the name etched below the photograph.
Theresa Cavanaugh.
The flashlight fell from her hands in what felt like slow motion. The back end cracked against the floor and suddenly the hall was plunged into darkness. What the hell? That was her? How was that her? She didn�t have time to worry about that now, she needed the light back! Dropping to her knees she felt madly around for her only source of illumination. Finally her frantic hands closed on the familiar rounded plastic and she scrambled to flick the switch, to bring back the light.
It didn�t turn on. Shaking it madly and tried again and thankfully the light returned, finding her breathless and dizzy on the floor of the hallway, reluctant to look back up at her picture. But again, she knew she couldn�t stay there, especially not now. Struggling back to her feet she looked at the picture again. It was uncanny. It was her. But how could it be? This place was dead.
She wasn�t dead. But the fact remained that the face in the picture before her had the same straight chestnut hair, the same big brown eyes and clear skin, even the same stubborn little chin and rounded nose. How could that be?
She couldn�t find a date on the picture; there were several stretching down the hall though. Each wooden framed photograph stood straight, not a single one was crooked. Full frame faces of solemn looking girls that all seemed to be staring at her through a fine patina of dust, starting with the picture of her. In each there was just the smallest bit of a white collar showing at the neck; all of them in the same shirt.
Deliberately turning away from the picture she continued her walk down the long hall. There had to be somewhere she could get out of this place. It was beginning to feel like she�d never make it out.
