Experiment #200

Part 3: Amanda's P.O.V

I'm out of breath now. Luckily I was fortunate enough not to fall foul of any potential hazards. I stoop over, hand to my heart, panting. It's the sound of my breath that is echoing around me now.

Or is it?

I'm sure I just heard something.

There it is again. It sounds like a faint, shuffling sound.

It can't be!

My hopes begin to rise in me like a swift bright bubble of joy. I feel strangely insane. I want to laugh and swoop and run around, so great is my relief.

There it is again!

It sounds as if it is getting closer. I am most definitely not imagining things. Each second, a small, cautious step. It sounds like the footsteps of a child.

A child. Wonderful...

My hopes drain out of me akin to water being drained from a bath-tub when the plug is pulled. A child will be of no help to me whatsoever. If anything it will only be a hindrance to my escape if it decides it wants to tag along with me.

It's coming closer. It's coming this way.

It seems like another eternity of waiting in suspense, but as my eyes adjust to the faint glimmer of flickering yellow light, I see a small silhouette appear in the entrance to what looks like one of the now closed duty-free stores. I begin to feel apprehensive, slightly sick. There's something strange about this child. My head's screaming at me to go back. But my heart is telling me to go to the spectre. Go, it says. Go. See what this is all about. Calm your curiosity.

I'm torn between my two reactions for a moment, but I eventually follow my heart. People have always told me that I'm too compassionate, too lenient. In ninety-nine per-cent of cases I will do whatever my heart tells me to do. And right now it's telling me to approach this lonely figure.

I take a few steps forward. The sound of my steady footsteps echoes down the corridor. I'm getting closer. The figure looms...

Then suddenly I freeze.

The icy tentacles of fear grip my heart once again, and my breathing becomes panicked.

Those eyes...

Those eyes are definitely not normal.

The figure raised its head, and it became clear to that this was a young girl, no more than five or six. The first thing I saw was her eyes. Gleaming pale green eyes. I can't see any pupils. There are deep purple shadows underneath them, as if she hasn't slept for years.

For some reason my feet are carrying me even closer. I desperately want to turn back, but I can't. My body just will not let me turn back. The details of her face are becoming clearer. Her complexion is waxy and white, like a ghost. Three jagged scars cross her face - one on her left cheek, one on her forehead and the other down the soft line of her right jaw. Scruffy midnight-black hair falls in a sheet over her face, shielding the right side of her pale, drawn features from view.

Is this some kind of ghost?

All the ghost stories I heard during my childhood come back to haunt me. I knew something wasn't right the moment the electricity went down. Was this her doing? Was it this ghost-girl who broke the circuit and steeped this dismal airport in darkness?

I see a shadow on the ground. It's mine. I have stepped so close that I am now at the mercy of the dim light. Which means that she can see me.

Her terrifying, expressionless eyes meet mine. We stare into each other's eyes for what seems like another eternity...

Then a high-pitched sound shatters the glassy silence into a thousand tiny shards.

"Can you help me find my mummy?"