Finding Obsidian

01 - Not a Shrimp

"Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap!"

I ran down the hallway, my yellow converse scuffing against the grey tiled floor. My light brown peacoat flared open as I skidded and turned the corner, ignoring the angry shouts behind me.

"I swear to God, I'm gonna kill that bitch!"

Like that one.

"Why am I so stupid?" I groaned as I turned another corner. The elevators were just a few meters ahead. I could make it. "Don't worry, he said. It'll be fine, he said. Well, he never said anything about the bloody insane frat girls, now did he?"

I stumbled to a stop in front of the elevator doors and doubled over, trying to catch my breath. I stole a quick glance up at the elevator button before doing a double take. "No. No way."

A bright red sign labeled 'Out of Order' hung from the button panel. An arrow pointed to a rusty door on my left, with the word 'STAIRWELL' printed in dirty white lettering.

I kicked the wall in frustration. The shouts behind me were getting louder. I was being chased by a group of crazed college girls with fake nails like the devil, and I was expected to take the stairs?

Clack clack clack!

The sound of heels pounding the floor ripped my attention away. A head of silky blonde hair emerged from around the corner, fierce blue-grey eyes fixating on me. "There she is!" she yelled. The demon leader herself.

She charged down the hall towards me, a terrifying glint in her eyes. How she didn't topple over in those six-inch Prada stilettos, I had no idea. But I didn't wait to find out.

I dashed to the stairs, throwing open the door and heading for the landing below. I took the steps three at a time, despite my small frame. Even at 5'2, my legs seemed to stretch far beyond their normal capacity. I guess being chased by a mob of angry girls will do that to you.

I heard the cast-iron door heave open behind me, but by that point I was already four levels down. Back up on the eighth floor, the blonde demon leaned over the railing, breathing heavily.

"I swear to God, I'll find you!" she called venomously. "So you better run, you shrimpy little shi—"

I ran out the exit before I could hear the rest, slamming the door behind me.

Taking a breath, I leaned against the wall. My hands were braced against my knees as my chest heaved, my out-of-shape body trying to compensate for the surprise exercise. Suddenly, Blondie's words sank in.

"Shrimpy?" I echoed, outraged. "Shrimpy?"

I was not a shrimp. 5'2 was a respectable height. Napoleon was pretty short, too, and he conquered half of Europe. Point proven.

I shook off my anger as I started walking the few blocks to my apartment complex. People gave me strange looks as I passed by. It wasn't every day you saw a tiny college student sprint out of an apartment building like her life depended on it. Actually, it wasn't every day you saw a college student sprint, period.

I reached the place in a few minutes and went inside. Thankfully, the elevator was working. I rode up to the fourth floor before dismounting and heading down the hall. The closer I got to my destination, the more my anger from before returned. By the time I reached apartment 404, I was pretty damn mad.

I knocked loudly, listening to the sound of footsteps approaching the entrance. The door swung open, revealing a twenty-something-year-old guy wearing a hoodie and grey sweatpants.

He grinned when he saw me. "Hanna! Back already, huh? You sure work fast."

I decked him in the face.