Skrbt

And the last thing Leo heard, before the dark took him completely, was that sound again, coming from inside his own skull now.

The hatch lifted a quarter inch. A single, pale digit—too long, with a knuckle that bent sideways—curled around the edge. And the last thing Leo heard, before the

Leo’s first thought was cell phone . Dead. His second thought was panic button . He stabbed it. Nothing. He yelled. His voice didn't echo; it was swallowed by the thick, velvet-lined walls. Leo’s first thought was cell phone

He sat down in the corner, knees to his chest. The silence that followed the skrbt was heavier than the darkness. He started to count his breaths to stay calm. One… two… three… He stabbed it

But Leo was late. His phone battery was dead, his tie was askew, and his prospects for the Acme Corp account were dwindling by the second. The stairs were twelve floors of pure spite. The elevator, however, was right there. The doors were slightly ajar, the interior light a sickly, jaundiced yellow.