Experiment #200

Part 5: Amanda's P.O.V

"Come on, we haven't got all day."

I have lost all sense of time. My very soul is numb to the core. The only thing I can hear is my own heartbeat, loud, anxious. And occasionally the indignant chirrups from the child.

I did not ask to be dragged into this! I thought I was supposed to be helping her! Oh, why oh why do I always do everything my heart tells me to do? Why did I agree to help her? It's obvious that this was all some sort of trick. It was obvious there was something going here. It was almost too obvious. But now this grim spectre is leading me towards something I have no knowledge of. She's leading me somewhere.

Oh Lord. What's that shimmering in the depths of this black fog?

Suddenly the girl stops. She turn back and fixes me with a harsh, cold stare.

Those eyes. Those eyes!

"Mind yourself here - we wouldn't want you to fall, would me?"

You wouldn't want me to fall?

What on earth is this?

About half of her body is now hidden by something opaque. So there's a set of stairs here...

She motions to me, beckons me to follow her. And I do. I'm too afraid to do anything else.

Suddenly a blinding white light forces my eyes shut. When I finally open them, a long, empty corridor stretches out before me. I follow the girl as she leads me down it. My shoes squeak on the polished white tiled floor.

Wait.

Is that another set of footsteps?

My suspicions are correct. I hear a distant sound, a door whining as its hinges creak. Footsteps. A steady, purposeful pace. The figure of a man emerges from around the corner, His scruffy silver hair is streaked with tufts of black, as is his short beard. He has an eye-patch over this left eye, like the ones pirates wear in story-books, leaving only his oak-hued right eye visible. A long jagged scar runs across his forehead. He looks at me suspiciously over the rim of his oval-shaped glasses, and then he turns to the girl, who is now standing by his side.

"Is this the one?" I hear him mutter in a heavy Russian accent.

The girl nods.

"Well then... I will see to her. Run along, Eleanor."

The ghost-girl obediently disappears round the corner. Then the man turns back to me.

"Something tells me you became lost up there. The electricity went down, I believe?"

I'm trying desperately to hide my uncontrollable trembling. I can only nod in reply.

"My apologies if young Eleanor startled you. She's a little... Confused at the moment..."

I detect the sinister tones in his husky voice. Something is certainly not right here. Does this man have anything to do with it, I wonder?

Suddenly there's a wrinkled hand extended before me in some form of greeting. I reach out and shake it silently. I don't know how much longer I will be able to conceal my fear for...

The voice addresses me again.

"I'm sorry. Where are my manners?" he chuckles. "I am Doctor Ishmael Djokovich, P.H.D - please, call me Ishmael. Would you like to come to my office? Perhaps we can sort this out down there, eh?"

I nod again and proceed to follow him down the corridor. I'm too nervous to do anything else. The sound of our footsteps echoes down the long deserted corridor as the Doctor leads me to his office.