Atlas Black

Chapter 28

L L A N A M O R O Z O V A

He's finally left the room. With a gun in his hand. Maybe now I should be questioning everything because on what on earth is this dude hiding behind a painting and a safe vault?

I'm tucked at the head of my bed with my arms wrapped around my legs and for the first time I can fully take in the surroundings of the bedroom.

It goes to say that it's no doubt the biggest bedroom I've ever been in. Not only is it widely spacious, but the walls are painted in a heavy dark, charcoal grey with black bedding, black headboard, black bed, black drawers and dressers, black desk, tinted floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Stanford. You get the idea. It's decked in black.

To my left is the walk in closet i presume and the painting to which the vault is hidden behind. To the right of the king sized mattress are the windows but the corner lays another door which to my best guess is the en-suite master bathroom. That also consisting of the same colour scheme that seems to permeate through this apartment.

But something very unfamiliar has grasped my attention. Opposite the bed is a wall that has black curtains draped across the entire length. And my curiosity peaks as it's something I've never seen in bedrooms before.

The curtain is floor-to-ceiling length dragging from one corner of the room to other and now I definitely can't go without checking what it's about. Cautiously, I stand up from the bed and tiptoe to curtains and my fingers graze the soft fabric material, rippling under my touch.

I turn my head to the bedroom door and wait to hear any signs of footsteps or voices that might indicate he's coming back. He specifically told me to say put, but am I really going to though? I'm rebellious and I'm curious and it's not my fault I'm going to be stuck in a room without exploring it. The room is huge.

As quiet as possible, I tug both curtains aside with both hands making a screeching sound as it opens up and I hold my breath the instant my eyes connect with the wall behind it. Holy shit.

I'm not sure I can grasp or try to make sense of what I'm seeing because my eyes instantly widen within seconds, mouth agape. All the breath in my lungs suddenly seems to seeped out of me leaving me breathless. Because holy shit.

Did I mention to say holy shit? Because what I'm seeing right now is speechless. As the entire wall comes into clear focus and view and both curtains are pushed to opposite ends of the wall, I take a few momentarily purpose steps backwards to admire or gape in horror at what the wall shows.

Slowly, my eyes scan one side and it travels the length of the wide hall. My mouth is still agape. Because the wall is clearly a huge painted outline in black ink of a map. Of all the continents and country's of the world, displayed right in front of my eyes.

And to make matters worse and horrifying, the wall is peppered with notes and faces that look like the ones you'd see in those "wanted posters". Faces of countless men, marks dotted across certain countries with writings scattered all over.

My step stutters and wobbles when I reach the wall to get a closer look to make out more clearly the faces of these potential victims, slash, enemies.

There's a red x mark which seems hand drawn on Italy and next to it is a picture of an equally stunning man I've never before seen. The name reads: Andrea Vitale. Why the name seems so familiar, I have no idea.