Tell No One

Chapter 28

Kiera could not help the panic from growing inside her. Tearing through the streets, she hadn't yet been stopped, but as she neared the tower, she found that they had grown terribly busier. She found herself zigzagging down narrow alleyways too, and though albeit less crowded, she didn't like the sense of claustrophobia she got from them, especially running as fast as she was. 
She had to keep glancing up, keep looking for that brunet skyscraper, which came increasingly more difficult as she came to the city's centre. She kept having to slow down, pushing through the crowds which dispersed with startled yelps as she shoved her way through them. A nagging voice in the back of her mind questioned as to why she was doing this, why she kept exposing herself like this, but she subdued it with a mantra of run, run, run. Glancing up once more, she saw the Tower and darted across the road, earning her an angry beep from the taxi who had to quickly stop. Luckily, she didn't think she was being chased, although she kept throwing paranoid glances over her shoulder.

As she looked behind her, she tripped and went tumbling down, her hands reached out to catch herself. Unfortunately, she wasn't quite quick enough and found her face crashing against the pavement. She skidded for a couple of beats, all the while the people around her were murmuring worriedly. Hunched over on her hands and knees, Kiera spat to get the dirt out of her mouth. A man walked over to her and placed a soothing hand on her shoulder.
"Ma'am, are you alright?" Looking up, Kiera saw as the man recoiled in shock as he recognised her face, stumbling back a few paces. Astonished whispers rang out in the growing crowd, and Kiera quickly pushed her way through. The crowd parted with ease, scared of her, backing away as she returned to running. She angrily swiped at her face as a few tears slipped out, chased away by the wind on her face. 

Finally, she had found the base of the tower. The square it was situated in was a lot less crowded than most of the streets she had gone through. Walking up to it, she stared up at how high it climbed. It almost seemed to reach the clouds, and Kiera could not help but feel impressed if a bit daunted. Walking through the automatic door, there were only a few people dotted about the foyer. The ceiling stretched high above her head, taking up a few floors, and Kiera could feel her every step as it echoed on the granite flooring. She was hyper aware of the 2 burly security guards who stood post by the entrance, and who hadn't caught sight of her face as she strolled past them. She didn't know what floor Schadenfreude was on. 

The front desk looked miles away, and as Kiera kept walking, her stomach tightened with the thought of what she could do next. If it went according to her scenario in her mind, there would be no deaths in the foyer today, but Kiera knew that was unlikely. She was going to ask the receptionist at the front desk which floor he was on, but that she would just gladly tell her, and quietly, too, was a highly unlikely probability and Kiera knew it. As she came up to the receptionist at the front desk, who was busy typing away at her keyboard, Kiera tensed up.

"Hi." The woman looked up, smiling softly before her face morphed into a mask of pure fear. Kiera could pinpoint the exact point where she recognised her.
"Stay quiet," Kiera whispered the command, and the woman obliged, fear gripping her. "What floor is Schadenfreude on?" The woman shakily looked back down to her monitor and moved her mouse about, clearly looking for something. Kiera glanced behind her at the security guards, who were looking her way. Inside she bristled and impatiently waited for the receptionist to finish. She kept glancing up at Kiera, her face pale as she carried on.

"F-floor 82." Eighty-two. Eightly-two floors up. Kiera blanched at the number but strengthened her resolve.

"Thank you." The receptionist didn't respond as she left the desk. Their parting was tense, and Kiera could guess what was going to happen next. Resuming to run, Kiera headed for the sign that marked the stairs to the far left of the building. Predictably, she heard the receptionist cry out, shouting for the guards to get her. Kiera could hear their thundering footsteps behind her and quickly slid through the doors to the stairwells. With not enough time to seal the door tight, Kiera placed a mental block over them, struggling to concentrate on keeping them shut as the men tried to rip them open. She wasn't sure how much force she could take, but she prayed that it would be enough for her to finish what she came here to do. Kiera stopped her dash up the stairs for a mere moment to glance up the spiralling stairs.  They seemed to go on forever, the ceiling hazy far, far above. Kiera cursed to herself and carried on climbing. She could feel a mental poke each time the doors were rammed.

Kiera watched the walls more than anything as she climbed the stairs. Their numbers were a display of how high she was getting. Along with each number was a coloured stripe, which followed her ascent upwards. 12. 18. 24. She kept climbing higher and higher, the painted bricks fading to a blur, her breathing becoming raspy and strained, her hair sticking to her face. The voice was still there, in the back of her head, questioning her every action.

Why are you doing this Kiera? Kiera kept running up, grasping onto the hand rail and she swung herself up the next landing. Kiera, you're going to be caught. Kiera ignored her own common sense. Kiera, there's no going back. Kiera already knew that and pushed the voice back down.

She knew there was no going back, so she kept moving forwards.