The 4th Subject

Chapter 6: The Hole

The next morning, I woke up with a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. As if my body knew something was going to happen today. I ignored it and got ready for the day.

Sam and I ran through Starbucks on the way to the office. We got our drinks and some breakfast, then walked back to the car.

"Sam," I wondered aloud, "Have you ever felt like something... bad was gonna happen, but you ignored the feeling entirely?"

Sam tilted her head in thought as she buckled her seatbelt.

"I guess so," she said softly, "why do you ask?"

"I just had this weird feeling this morning, that's all."

We turned on the radio on and listened to music as we drove and chatted. When we arrived at the studio, the weird feeling came back. I dismissed it once again as Kevin greeted us with a smile.

"Hey, guys." He said, then turned back to the computer.

"Hey," Sam and I said in unison. I looked into the armory, the light still off. The uneasy feeling grew slightly.

We went upstairs and to Sam's office. As she unlocked the door, the feeling grew even more. She opened the door and the feeling was almost unbearable. We took one step in and stopped.

"What is that smell?" Sam cried incredulously, her face scrunched in disgust. My face was scrunched in a similar manner. It smelled awful. I wasn't quite sure what it smelled like, but it kinda smelled...

"Sam," I said quietly, "it smells like chemicals."

It took her a moment to realize what I meant. Her eyes widened and we locked eyes for all of three seconds. We dropped our bags and frantically moved the couch. The safe was sitting there, still shut, still in the plastic bin.

The feeling bore a hole in my chest. Something's wrong.

Sam reached down and grabbed the edges of the safe and slowly lifted it from the bin. I looked down and gasped at what I saw. Or rather, what I didn't see. A floor.

"Sam!" I yelled, backing away and bringing my hands to my mouth.

"What?" She cried, quickly but carefully setting the safe down. She looked back over to the floor and gasped. To our horror, we saw a hole in the plastic bin and in the floor. I looked into the hole and shone my phone flashlight into it.

"Stop!" I yelled.

"Oh my gosh!" Sam shouted.

There was a hole in the ceiling tile, too. I turned my flashlight off and sat down on the couch.

"What the heck is in that safe?" I said, bouncing my leg.

"I don't know," she muttered and pulled out her phone. "I'm voxing Matt."

Moments later, she was voxing him. "Matt," she said, her voice wavering, "can you... can you come to the studio? Something happened. Like, I-I literally don't think you'll believe me if I just say it. When are you gonna be in?"

She ended the vox and began to pace around the office. A couple minutes later, we got a reply.

"Stop. How serious? Should I come in, like, right now, right now, or, do I have time to make a thumbnail?"

I chuckled a bit as Sam replied. "I don't know what video you're making something for, but this could be a thumbnail. Uh, yeah, I think you should come in. In all seriousness, I think you should come in."

"Matt, you need to come in!" I called from the couch.

We sat in silence, trying to figure out what to do. After about 30 minutes, we heard Matt call our names from downstairs. Sam and I stood at the top of the stairs. We heard Matt come up the stairs and around the corner, camera in hand.