A Reunion, if One Could Call it That

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Helen stood at the entrance of the now-abandoned Joey Drew Animation Studio. She clutched the letter tightly in her hands as if it was her life support. She lifted a hand to the doorknob, then stopped with a frown. She lifted the paper up to her face, rereading its contents for what must've been the thirteenth time since her departure from her home in Augusta, Maine.

Helen, it read, It's been such a long time since we last talked! I'd like to invite you to the studio for a... little reunion of sorts. See you there! Helen scoffed, looking around at an empty parking lot. "Some party this is," she muttered to herself.

The entire place seemed to be crumbling, the yellowed, rotting wood barley holding the place together. The windows seemed to be knocked out, most likely by vandals or gangs, although there were no further signs that the building was being actively defaced. The large sign over the front entrance, overlooking the empty field before it, contained only hints of what it used to say. Helen supposed that if she tipped her head and squinted, the sign almost seemed to read Joey Drew Studios. Of course, she already knew that it did say this. It was simply hard to read.

Helen slowly lifted her hand to the brass doorknob, hissing as the midday sun had caused the metal doorknob to reach burning temperatures. She took off her vest, which was already unbearable on her back in the sweltering heat, and wrapped it around her hand. She used her makeshift mitten to open the door and set foot inside the studio, which hit her with a surprisingly refreshing, cool breeze. She quietly pulled the door closed behind her, looking out into the empty studio. "Uhh... Joey? Are you- AAAH!"

As she took a step forward to explore the long-dead company building, she lost her balance on the edge of a broken plank, falling into a hole that was inconveniently right behind the front doors of the studio.

She landed with a wet thud on the ink-covered floor. "Ow..." she muttered, reaching her hand up to rub a now-growing bruise on her forehead. "What the hell..." she turned her head to view the floor which she had fallen through.

"Holy damn..."

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