Roblox Piggy Book 2: H.O.P.E

11.3 - Unease In The Air

Lucinda

It seemed like the world had blessed me again.

As soon as I tossed the rope over a stone rod that was hanging from the cave's ceiling, a wooden plank had fallen down between the bridge I was on and the stone platform I was trying to get to. After checking it, I was fortunately able to confirm that it was stable, meaning that I could cross it safely to the other side. It was safe to say that I did so without hesitation. When it came to crossing a pit that seemed to lead into nothingness, I'd pick the plank over a rope any day.

I began to take a look at my surroundings as soon as I made it to the other side. The first few things I took note of were the yellow barrels filled with what I assumed to be oil or fuel. Or perhaps it was gasoline. Another thing I noticed was the weird circular wheel next to the supposed entry door, which was covered in rocks. I had no idea how I was supposed to get the rocks out of the way and unlock the door for the others. However, there was a red key sitting on a bench next to the door, so I quickly grabbed it before turning around to leave.

Earlier, while I was making my way towards the center of the wooden bridge, some loose planks had fallen off, much to my surprise, so now there were gaps that were about a foot long. Nothing I couldn't handle, but definitely not something I could ignore. I opted to be careful as I slowly stepped over the gaps, making my way towards the safety of the stone platform and trekking back out into the cold winter storm shortly after.

As soon as I was outside, I walked to my left until I reached the stairs leading upwards before climbing them, one hand on the cold railing, the other holding the ruby red key close and tight against my cold chest. Speaking of the cold, I could feel the apples of my cheeks and the tip of my nose turn red in response to the weather. Being at such a high altitude also caused my lips to start turning a slight shade of blue. I took that as a warning sign that I needed to get that door open as fast as I could before I succumbed to hypothermia.

Once I reached the top, I looked upwards towards the second tower that was a few feet away. It was similar to the one that had that weird number panel on it, so I wondered if there would be anything weird waiting for me inside this one, too. I breathed our a sigh of cold air before lifting my recently freed hand up to my face to block the snow from getting into my eye before making my way over to the tower's stairs.

Unfortunately, these stairs had no railing, which made things even harder and riskier for me. Nevertheless, I had my heart set on overcoming any challenge thrown my way. I kept telling myself that over and over until I reached the top of the stairs, where I nearly fell over onto the platform below me. I was quick to pull myself together and stand up properly before unlocking the red lock in front of me. As soon as I had done what I had been familiar with for the past eight months, I took a peek inside of the now-open room.

A vault with a golden yellow lock was waiting for me on the inside.

That meant that a golden yellow key needed to be found. After reaching the conclusion that nothing would be waiting for me on the other side, I turned around and made my way back down the stairs and into the snow. I had already flipped the entire upper level upside down, so I knew that the yellow key was inside one of the buildings, the blue one, to be specific, which was right  below the first flight of stairs. I walked around the stairs and made my way to the blue building before climbing up its stairs and going inside.

The building seemed to be some sort of communication area. That's what I assumed it to be based on all of the television screens on the walls and tables, which were lining the walls. There was a table that sat in the corner of the building, so I walked over to it, passing by all of the high tech equipment that I always wanted to get my hands on when I was younger. Those days were gone now. Long gone. I pinched myself as a reminder of that.