When she first noticed something was wrong, she was waltzing through the enormous double doors of the hotel. The uneasy feeling she felt had been there for hours: so long, in fact, that she had forgotten it was there, forgotten that something just FELT wrong about what she was doing.
But why should it? She was headed into preparation for the most important meeting of her life, she was dressed nice, and she was completely ready for anything the world could throw at her.
Except, it seemed, her meeting partner.
She had heard the young man was coming to eat dinner with her to discuss their opinions on the brief that was being presented the next day, but she had missed his name. If she hadn't, she probably would have decided against it.
Walking into the restaurant, she asked the maitre d' if there happened to be a younger man who had ordered a table for two already. As the older man pointed her in the right direction, she caught a glimpse of curly, sandy hair.
In her own time, she arrived at the table. As the other head looked up, she almost walked the other way.
"You." She hissed.
"Oh yes, it's nice to see you too, I know, it's been a while, I've been good, thanks."
"Why are you here?" She asked bluntly.
"I'm here to talk to you about the brief. Now can we get going?" He responded.
"Still a snarky little asshole..." She mumbled under her breath.
She pulled out her chair and scowled at him. "This better go quick."
~~
Three glasse of wine later, she wasn't feeling quite as antagonistic towards him.
"And then," She whispered, "I could feel it. All of a sudden. It just came out of nowhere, and hasn't left since!"
"You feel that too? Like someone's... following you?"
"Yes! I feel it right now!"
They both looked suspiciously around the restaurant. Apart from an older man in the corner who gave them continuous dirty looks, the room was conspicuously empty.
"Where did everyone go?"
They looked at each other and rose out of their seats. As one unit, they moved quickly towards the door, feeling uneasy. After all, hotel bars are never empty at midnight.
As they slipped out into the lobby and pressed the button to call the elevator, the back of her neck prickled uncomfortably.
"Did you feel that?" She asked almost inaudibly.
He nodded with wide eyes.
The elevator finally arrived, doors opening wide, welcoming, like a soft bed after a long day. Reaching toward the floor buttons, someone finally appeared in the lobby.
The man shuffled across the floor, staring menacingly at them as the elevator doors shut.
The metal contraption had barely started to move when a shot rang out, hitting the wall behind the two enemies-turned-coworkers. They immediately dropped, flattening themselves on the ground. They continued to move up.
Level 17 hit, and they lifted their heads slowly. The bullet hole behind them seemed like a warning: "watch where you step."
Finally, they reached the penthouse. She took out her key and slid it into the lock slowly, listening for signs of trouble. When none appeared and the door opened smoothly and silently, she began to relax. Maybe the gunshot wasn't for them. Maybe it was just a robber, in which case, they should call the front desk right away.
She moved quickly towards the phone as he moved to close and lock the door.
She froze.
The room had been destroyed. Feather pillows were shredded all over the floor, the matresses were off their frames and cut into, and worst of all, the phone had been ripped from the wall in what looked like a fit of rage and smashed to bits.
She called his name.
When there was no answer, she began to panic. He had been her rival and worst enemy when they were young, but he didn't deserve to die.
She grabbed the nearest table leg and ventured into the hallway near the door.
He was gone, the door still ajar, the key still dangling from the lock.
Flashing back to the last time she saw this, she shivered and exited the room. She had to find him, and he had to be somewhere in to hotel.
~~
Around the corner, down four flights of stairs, and into the 86th open room, she finally found him, gagged and tied to a shower curtain. His eyes went wide at the sight of her.
She slowly took the rag out of his mouth and the rope away from his hands. He shook his head insistantly.
"Get out of here!"
"No." She asserted. "Either we both leave, or neither of us leave."
He rolled his eyes at her heroics and followed her out of the room. Using the express elevator key she had found in the course of her search for him, they rode silently down to the ground floor again. Preparing her table leg, they stepped out into the lobby again. Yet again, it was empty, and the front doors beckoned.
Making a break for it, she heard the bullet before she saw it, and saw it before she felt it. It ripped through her chest and imbedded itself into the wall behind her.
The last thing she saw was his face.
The last thing she heard was "I'm so sorry little sister."
