At Your Service (Book Two)

Chapter 1: Floor of Blood

Ryan Swift strained. Darkness enveloped every inch of the space he was in, stifling a single hint of light. It's as if he was devoured by the abyss, a void where sight ceased to exist. He couldn't even figure out if his eyes were closed or not. Looking down, he saw his hands flinching, letting him know he was fully awake.

Along with that, he saw the rest of his body, then he realized he was wearing his familiar dark-blue tuxedo and black bowtie. That's odd. He didn't remember putting it back on. He only remembered returning it to Carter so the latter would hand it back to Research and Development for further improvements.

That's why he's been sporting much more inconspicuous clothing than a tuxedo recently: A special black softshell jacket given by the agency. It would attract zero attention if Swift was to go on public. The R&D Department, being the science whiz they are, added a special light kevlar lining to the jacket capable of preventing a bullet or two to gore his skin, something that Swift always found impressive, having these invisible armors to protect him disguised as normal clothing.

Carter insisted that he should hold to it for a while, the tuxedo being in repairs in the meantime, guaranteeing him that it'll be ready for some formal occasions. Swift hasn't caught a glimpse of his tuxedo after a certain... traumatic incident.

The longer he stayed still, the sooner he realized something was leaving from underneath his shoes. He noticed the pitch-black floor was somewhat making wavy movements, like water. He goes to notice that it was water he was standing on. He put a hand out to the sightless void, reaching for something, anything, but encountered only the silent, empty air.

He started to pace forwards. The further he walked, the more waving puddles of water he left behind. Liquidy drips left his brown dress shoes as they kept sticking themselves away from the floor and dropping back down again. He made sure not to make heavy steps or it would result in splashes that would leave his soles stained.

The silence felt way too suffocating. Swift strained his ears, hoping they would catch a sound, anything but the oppressive soundlessness, but all he heard was the echo of his own set of deep breaths, magnified in the clear expanse. He felt like he wanted to let out a scream, desperate for another voice to call out to him just to make him sure he wasn't alone in the disorienting abyss.

"Ryan," It's like the world knew what Swift wished for, and it granted him. A voice, a feminine whisper, telling him that he wasn't alone. He quickly turns, since he didn't see the source of the voice before him, but he didn't find it behind him either.

"Hello?" His eyes narrow. Even though his sense of isolation subsided, he had a slight hint of fear and agitation on his face. That voice... it sounded familiar. "Is anyone there?"

"I'm here." The whisper grew louder than before. Someone's in here, and they're getting close. He started to frantically turn back and forth as if the walls of the room were about to crush him. His eyes kept darting left and right across the void, mixed with his intense echoing breath.

As everything around felt like it was becoming too overwhelming for Swift's mind, it felt like it stopped. It was a while ago since whoever was calling out to him did so, replaced by the same eerie quietness. Just when he took another breath, a calm one, this time, he felt a touch on his shoulder from behind, "Ryan."

The same whisper that grew louder and louder, became a full voice. One that he recognized in an instant. When he knew who it was, he somewhat felt a gust of remorse pass through him. He wasn't sure why, though. Hesitantly, Swift turned around, seeing a long, jet-black-haired girl with an unforgotten sheath black dress.

"Audrey..." The name came out of his lips in a confused horror. Why am I feeling this way? He felt an odd emotion as Audrey Vixen returned his stare with her bright green eyes.