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You have been running for about a mile when you come across a large night club. It has large sign on the front that says ‘Vendeta’.
From the outside, you can see multicolored lights flashing through a few windows and hear loud music coming from the speakers in the club. You sigh, looking around for any other options before turning back to the club.
“Well, why not?” you shrug. When you walk into the nightclub, the first thing you notice is the stench. At that moment, the only thing you can smell is alcohol. It’s strong…strong enough to overcome any other scents that might be lingering form past parties.
You look around and see what you expect. Men in jeans and a tee dancing with women in short dresses. You’ve never been to a nightclub, but it’s pretty self-explanatory.
Even though this is your first experience in a nightclub, it’s not the first time you’ve had to run from the people chasing you now.
After your family died, you started getting suspicious of someone following you. Recently, however, it’s gotten worse.
You’ve seen the same people and cars trailing behind you and recently you’ve felt the need to run to get away from the men. A nightclub seemed like the perfect place to hide. You just need to find a way to get past the owner or any one working there so you aren’t caught for being at the club underage.
You look around, not wanting to be in plain sight for any longer than you need to be. You bump into someone occasionally, making them glare at you or just keep walking in their drunken state.
“Come on, come on, come on,” you mutter as you walk along the outside edge of the club.
You try not to get too far from the crowd so that they can form a shield around you. Your first priority right now is hiding.
You are about to give up and use the crowd as a place to hide when a rectangular outline in the wall catches your eye. You sigh a breath of relief and start making your way towards it. When you get closer, you curse softly, studying the keypad that is placed carefully next to the door.
You back up a step when you see a man walk up to the door and start punching in a code.
After looking around for a moment, he walks in, giving you your opportunity. You sprint to the door before it can shut and slide your fingers between the wall and the door. You wince slightly as the large metal door lands on your fingers, but push past it when you hear voices inside the room.
You smirk and pull the door open slowly, being careful not to grab the attention of the three people you’ve spotted in the room.
“Oliver, you know we can’t just bust through their door with open arms. We have to go about this strategically,” you hear a woman say.
The two men in the room stand, facing the woman with crossed arms.
“We have to do this now. We’re running out of time,”
