Crimson Core: Awakened Desire

Chapter 6: Surprise Date

With a weary sigh, I stood and stretched, my gaze sweeping over the deserted office space beyond my window. Empty desks and hastily abandoned chairs left a haunting stillness clinging to the room's corners. I was alone.

Shaking off the unease that had settled over me since talking to the detectives, I gathered my scattered papers, a half-empty coffee mug, and my trusty laptop into my worn leather satchel. 

My phone was cool against my palm as I placed an order for a rideshare car. The thought of walking home alone after the bizarre encounter the previous night sent a shiver down my spine.

My footsteps were muted on the carpet as I walked toward the exit, and the moment I stepped onto the tiled floor of the corridor leading to the elevators, something strange caught my eye. 

The overhead lights flickered, casting strobe-like flashes down the hallway.

Panic flared within me as my pulse quickened. My fingers fumbled to unlock my phone, but the screen glitched and spasmed, mirroring the failing lights above. 

A cold shiver traced my spine as memories of the previous night clawed their way to the forefront. The same electrical disturbances had been a precursor to the appearance of that winged man. That creature out of myth or madness, who had left me questioning reality and my sanity.

"Damn it!"

With heels clicking urgently against the tile, I bolted for the stairwell, the dying lights chasing me down. Each landing passed in a blur, my breaths coming in sharp gasps as the weight of my satchel slapped rhythmically against my side.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I imagined what might be lurking just beyond the veil of encroaching darkness following me down the stairs. I gripped the railing with white-knuckled intensity, praying I could reach the lobby before all the lights flickered out.

Emerging from the stairwell's suffocating grasp, I burst into the lobby, my chest heaving with relief. The steady glow of overhead lights greeted me, untouched by the sinister flicker that had pursued my descent. 

I glanced around the deserted space.  The reception area was empty, the usual buzz of after-hours activity conspicuously absent. Even the night guard, typically a reassuring presence, was nowhere in sight.

"Probably just on his rounds," I whispered to myself, a futile attempt to quell the unease gnawing at my nerves.

I looked down at my phone, my thumb jabbing at the screen, only to find it stubbornly unresponsive. The rideshare app, once a beacon of convenience, now seemed to mock me in its frozen state. 

A string of curses escaped my lips, each one echoing through the empty lobby. I regretted not slipping a pair of sneakers into my bag that morning, but planning for the sinister whims of fate had never been my strong suit.

Steeling myself, I squared my shoulders with determination and strode toward the exit. I just had to quickly make it to where there were more people. Then I would be safe or at least feel safe.

Once outside, the crisp autumn air bit at my skin as First Avenue stretched before me, a dimly lit gauntlet of closed shops.

I quickened my pace, and my eyes darted between the pools of shadows cast by towering skyscrapers as I hurried along with a silent prayer on my lips that I might pass unseen by whatever lurked within them.

With every step, I sensed Second Avenue's proximity growing. I heard the murmur of distant voices and laughter carried on the wind. As I drew closer to the promise of safety, the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. 

It was the primal instinct of being watched.

Then, without warning, a hand reached out from the shadows and trapped my arm, stopping me in my tracks.