the story is undone

Except the fact that it wasn’t quite a party. To Leah, it was an onslaught of horrors, to say the least. Timidness somehow made her an often victim to scares in dark places, her ‘over reactions’ were hilarious, quote what some stranger had said of her. Come a few hours, the young composer was unsure how exactly she had survived the experience, and stumbled upon this building.

Which was namely pitch black. And had no one in it. Basically every scenario for a horror situation was played before her very eyes, and she found herself knee deep inside said situation. Needless to say, as mentioned before she was terrified.    

Happening upon the door and knocking said door was sheer luck, merely from her attempt of finding her way around to see whether there was a door in this never ending darkness– hence the shout from behind said ‘door’ gave her quite a fright, causing her to fall to her knees with a yelp. That terror soon gave way to relief, however as there was at least someone else in this darkness, and perhaps that door would lead her to light.

Finally peeling her face off them was actually relieving, in a sense. A major writing block had stuck her around 10pm and it’s been endless fussing. The wind was strong outside, causing the walls to reverberate a drumming pattern that took her interest for a while. She could see how it combined with the darkness could scare someone this late at night.

“Good morning,” she said to the girl with certainty. “I, um, could turn the lights on for you but I don’t have the keys to reach the power box downstairs...” Shauntal beams with an idea and calls for her Chandelure. “Vela!!”

At the sound of her name, Vela spun in the out from Shauntal’s desk and zipped out the door. Once she was in the hallway, she turned to look at the author. “Please use Flash!”

The Chandelure whirred in acknowledgment and starting glowing brighter as each second passed.