The neatly folded piece of notebook paper with a jagged edge exhibited its last moment of life when it was being torn. It bore the words of greeting. Etoile recognised the opposition's attempt to communicate and frantically scanned the room for a writing utensil to motivate this conversation she had long waited for. Etoile chose a black ballpoint pen that hid under the files in the stomach of the desk. Even though its ink kept trailing off, she successfully replied with the same greeting.
"Hi"
The interval period for the person across to reply was causing a tingling feeling in her heart. The person behind the doors could free her and lead her away from the temptation to investigate this area. However, the sincere words in Tsuki's eyes that contrasted his usual personality made her wash in guilt if she doesn't follow as he says. He looked as if it was his dying wish, his sole chance out. The invisible glistering tears that begged for Etoile's support seemed to have been absorbed by a handkerchief in the past his younger-self owned.
They slid the note back through the door. She opened the letter and hastily read the mini metaphor the person wrote. There was a little rabbit doodle imprinted on the edge of the paper.
"When the clock strikes twelve, lights will be swallowed by demons, be ready for what would be there waiting for you. There'll be children who are on the list of God's menu. Trained and fed, made to succeed. Those that don't end up in the bin. If you don't understand what I'm trying to tell you, then I will have no idea how you completed the English extension course in high school"
The sound of the person leaving made Etoile more of a knotted string. She didn't plan on telling her anymore. The rabbit of this house would be RB. Through interpretation that'd be a warning about the confronting information that'd be shown to her when she leaves this room. This place was hiding something, but is it worth risking the life of one?
Etoile's hands covered her face as she leaned on the door. Those who don't know her might've thought she was going through a breakup.
"Am I to do this? To let go of what could be a normal life and family?"
She shrunk to the edge of the room, allowed her torpid body to spread like mustard on the ground. Her eyes stared into the ceiling light and looked for some sign of fate telling her to stop herself. She licked her cracked tree bark like lips that longed for the quality lip balm she left in her office. This place that lacked a window, it blinded her from the passing time. Was it day or night? She bent her fingers as if she held the phone that was confiscated earlier on the train. Did they expect her to wake up at midnight or wait till midnight? There was no time tracking machine other than the line "lights will be swallowed by demons".
Thoughts, daydreams and imaginations of her funeral flew across her mind keeping her occupied for hours. The last track she listened to started to play in her brain to cheer her up. She climbed into the bed and sought the warmth she missed.
The light that typically voyaged into the room through the outline of the door withdrew its claws and disappeared. The long arm of the clock has finally taken a break from the marathon marking the end of the day. Midnight, thirty minutes till she would decide whether she leaves the room when the door unlocked.
A beep that trailed from the door made Etoile bolt her eyes to the door. Despite the internal argument she had with her protective self she stepped out of the room. Her hands gripped steadily on the handle as she slowly landed her footstep by step down the stairs. Her eyes locked target with the file room. The final step made a soft screeching sound, she squinted her eyes close as she took off her shoes holding them in one hand. After she checked the area, she glided without lifting her feet past the open space kitchen, through the black matte and industrial-themed office area headed towards the file room.
Life gave her minimal time to evaluate the event thoroughly.
The file room door was left open. She walked into the space she was once amazed by as the two-story bookshelves with a melange of books. To the left side of the room were files lined in alphabetical order. When Etoile focused her eyesight upon the files, there were names marked on the sides, some with a red fingerprint at the end. The draconian red stood out, nearly all the second row had a mark.
"Where was I supposed to be again? I knew I should've listened carefully to instructions" Etoile always tried to be sanguine in stressful situations.