𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 ★ steve harrington²

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄 : room 263

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 3.3k

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𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 caused Owen's throat to tighten uncomfortably. She had just assumed that both surviving the tunnels and managing to insert herself into the void was enough proof that she could handle whatever 'plans' the person on the phone had for her.

But perhaps she had overstepped, accidentally pushing away any viable option for actually learning about her past and what had happened to her. It was then that she began to spiral. Her eyes squeezed shut, the fingers of her free hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of her nose. None of this is even real, anyway. I've just fucking made it all up in my-

"Turn around."

Owen's eyes flew open and her breath caught in her throat as that same raspy voice crackled through the phone's speaker. Her attention crept over her shoulder, wary at the prospect of something else showing up in this total abyss. Hell, she had just gotten used to the existence of the payphone. But still, Owen turned her head completely, willing to tread into this new territory for some answers.

Unfortunately, a single, wooden door standing alone in the pool of black water just raised even more questions. There wasn't anything special about the door, per say. In fact, the only distinguishing quality that Owen could see was the small plaque screwed onto the middle, labeling the door as the entryway of Room Number 263.

"Am I supposed to know what this is?" Owen wondered aloud, the phone still pressed against her ear as she observed every conceivable detail in front of her. She was even trying to commit the pattern of the wood grains to memory – just in case.

"No, not yet. But I suppose you could call this... my gift to you, Owen. A chance, if you're willing to take it," the voice explained, without actually saying anything at all. Owen had to force back a snarky comment about the return of his nonsensical riddles. It seemed as though the voice was extending an olive branch of sorts; she would've beat herself up later on if she allowed her big mouth to ruin this for her.

"But this does have something to do with my past, right? It's not some gimmick?" she checked, blinking unsurely at the door that seemed to loom closer with every passing second.

"That is something you must figure out for yourself, Owen."

The half-assed response caused Owen's gaze to go up in flames, unable to prevent irritation from showing all over her face.

"What? So, you're not even going to tell me if this is-"

Her thoughts were suddenly cut off by the same three beeps she had heard during her very first call with this faceless voice. Of course, the typical message followed, taunting her.

"We're sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel-" A obnoxious ding echoed about the space when Owen slammed the receiver into place with a deep scowl.

Despite being within some back room of her own mind, Owen felt like could never get the upper hand in her conversations with the voice on the phone. Every conversation felt like she was getting talked in circles or scrambling to grab a single dollar out of a hand that pulled it away faster than she could grab it.

Wait.

Momentarily pulling herself from her pessimistic inner monologue, Owen glanced about her surroundings in amazement. She was still in the void, wrapped up in pitch black shadows on every side. Ending the call with the voice on the other side hadn't sent her flying back into her physical form, as it had every time before that.