Seven Ways To The Abyss

INFILTRATION

Sofia crouched low behind a parked car, watching as the security guards patrolled the entrance of the building. The area outside was sparse—just a few trees and rows of parked cars lining the lot. The looming office building was far more modern than the others she'd come across, with sleek, reflective glass panels that gave it a polished look. Its tall, intimidating architecture stood against the overcast sky, casting shadows over the surrounding pavement. Sofia wiped the sweat from her brow, her mind racing to find the best entry point.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she scanned the building. The main entrance was out of the question—too many people, too many eyes. But just to the side of it, she spotted an emergency door that opened into the staff corridor. A smile crept across her face. That was her way in.

Sofia waited for the perfect moment. As a delivery van pulled up to the building, distracting one of the guards, she sprinted from her hiding spot. She dashed behind trees, ducked behind cars, her movements fluid and precise, like a shadow weaving through the lot. Her breath was steady, her steps calculated. She reached the side door, pulling the handle slowly. Locked.

Of course it is, she thought, frustrated but not surprised.

She pressed her hand against the door's lock, focusing intensely. Her fingers tingled as she sent a slight pulse of energy through the lock, manipulating the mechanisms inside until—click. The door eased open with a soft creak. She slipped inside, silently thanking whatever dark forces had granted her these abilities.

Once inside the corridor, the sound of her footsteps echoed faintly against the tiled floor. She moved swiftly, keeping her senses heightened as she approached room 8G, where she knew the files were kept. The corridor was sterile, cold even. It was the kind of place that made her skin crawl—soulless, designed for bureaucracy and hidden deals. The harsh fluorescent lighting buzzed overhead as she navigated her way through the maze of halls, evading cameras and any prying eyes that might alert someone to her presence.

Her pulse quickened as she reached the door to 8G. She could already feel the weight of the information she was about to obtain. This was it. She pulled the door open and slipped inside.

The room was exactly as she had expected: an administrative space filled with rows of filing cabinets, computers, and storage units. The data she needed was stored digitally, and the terminal in the middle of the room blinked invitingly at her. Without hesitation, Sofia seated herself at the terminal, cracking her knuckles before swiftly typing in a few commands.

Her fingers danced across the keyboard, and after a few minutes, she broke through the initial layers of security. A flood of profiles appeared on the screen, each one containing information on various people of importance. But she was after something specific. After several minutes of careful searching, two profiles stood out.

The first was a woman named Amaline Unane. Amaline  was in her early thirties, a business consultant, and financially stable with substantial savings. She had no immediate family in the area—just a few distant relatives she hadn’t spoken to in years. There were no records of marriage, no children, and certainly no signs of illegal activities. Her file portrayed a pristine, uncomplicated life.

The second profile belonged to a man named Daniel Price, a high-level software engineer. He was in his mid-thirties, wealthy, with minimal social ties. Daniel, much like Carmen, had no family ties that could complicate things. No children, no spouse, no criminal record. He lived in a quiet neighbourhood, maintained a low profile, and rarely interacted with people, he mostly kept indoors

“Hey! What are you doing here?”

Sofia froze. Her heart skipped a beat, and her muscles tensed. A guard stood in the doorway, his eyes wide with suspicion. Panic flared in Sofia’s chest, but she quickly buried it. She could talk her way out of this.