Thirteen

Life Before Death

Nothing good ever comes from a dark room filled with security camera monitors and blood. It's a rather unsettling thing to describe, much less be present in.

The very thought of it might be enough to make a person shudder, and you can be certain that the sight of it would compel someone to move as far in the direction opposite from it as possible. Who knows what kinds of trouble you could find in there? A dead body, a stalker, a satanic cult? Maybe even someone, or something, that is otherworldly in nature? The list is endless. So why tempt fate and investigate such a place?

It's best to leave things like that alone. Nobody has to know the gruesome details, right?

But, for some stories to be told, those gruesome details must be known.

And so that it where our story starts. In a dark room, filled with security camera monitors and blood.

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"You're going to miss something if you keep switching cameras that fast," spoke one of the figures in the darkness. He seemed upset with the speed at which his companion was flipping through the footage of different cameras, which could be seen on several slightly static filled TV screens on the desk in front of them.

"Relax, I'm not going to miss anything. Nothing important ever shows up while we're on watch," the one switching cameras replied, disregarding the concern her partner had expressed and continuing to switch through all of the possible camera footages available on each monitor.

The previous figure subtly sighed in a displeased manner, then crossed his arms in annoyance.

"You used to be so much more ecstatic about this job," he muttered. "And now look at you."

His partner said nothing, not even turning to face him, and continued to hastily scroll through the footages. Her expression remained placid and unenthused, which ironically proved her partner's point.

The other figure rolled his eyes at her disinterest and spun the chair he sat upon so that it was facing away from his companion, allowing him to gaze at the rest of the room instead. There wasn't much else in it, but it was quite frankly more entertaining then trying to start up conversation with that callous excuse for an immortanimus, or waiting around for another hour expecting something to happen. He honestly couldn't believe he'd been posted here of all places, but he'd been told that this room held significance. There had to be something here.

And who knows, this could be his last time being stationed in this room. If there really was anything of importance here, this might be the last chance he had to find it.

The man's wandering eyes caught nothing interesting at first, just mysterious blood streaks on the walls and floor, as well as some nearly empty shelves and a disgusting-looking carpet. Nothing of use. He began to wonder why he even bothered looking in the first place, as this place was so desolate and run down it was pitiful.

But then something grabbed his attention.

Like a pinprick of light on a dark and stormy horizon, the glint of something sharp could been seen on the top of a shelf in the very corner of the room, hardly visible in the poorly lit space.

"What's that?" He inquired.

This earned him no response.

Mildly annoyed, he tried again.

"What's that?"  His tone was more forceful, if not slightly angry this time.

"What's what?" She finally replied, still not turning to face him. The tone of her voice matched that of her partner's.