Chapter 17 – The Key Turns
369 Words
He told me one thing: Be there before tomorrow night, or I’d never see the sun again.
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At 11:50 p.m., I walked down the North Wing corridor with a key in hand.
The hallway was dark, lit only by moonlight.
At 11:50 p.m., I walked down the North Wing corridor with a key in hand.
The hallway was dark, lit only by moonlight.
The key turned, the door clicked open.
A dim red glow spilled out.
The air smelled of iron and roses.
Elysium stood in the middle of the room, his black coat blending with the night.
“You came?” he asked.
“You told me not to be late,” I replied.
On a long table sat a glass case.
Inside—one drop of blood.
“Mine?” I asked.
“Leftover from your last checkup,” he said.
“You people recycle medical waste now?”
“That drop could buy half a city,” he said flatly.
He opened the case.
The blood floated up, twisting into a fine red thread.
It darted toward my wrist.
I stepped back. “We talk terms first.”
“Three rules,” he said. “Don’t run. Don’t ask. Don’t cry.”
“I’ll add one—don’t bite.”
He smirked. “Deal.”
The red thread touched my skin—cold, not painful.
The scar vanished, replaced by a thin crimson line.
A map appeared on the wall, a red dot blinking.
“Be here before tomorrow night,” he said, “or you won’t see the sun again.”
I sighed. “Fine. I’m not a morning person anyway.”
He handed me a black card.
“If you get in trouble, swipe this. Might not work.”
“There’s a customer service tier?” I asked.
“It only helps the living,” he said. “You’re… pending.”
I was almost out the door when he added, “Don’t trust anyone. Not even me.”
“Relax,” I said. “I don’t even trust myself.”
The door closed behind me.
The corridor was still dark, but the moonlight felt sharper.
Tomorrow, the game would be life or death.
- Writer
