The White Silk Predator
351 Words
The elevator doors hissed open on the 89th floor, and Leo tumbled out, retching and gasping. He was covered in a fine frost, his expensive borrowed suit ruined by the chemical residue.
He wasn't alone.
Sloane Vane stood there, her bone-white suit glowing like a beacon in the dim service hallway. She wasn't wearing a mask. She didn't look afraid. She looked... disappointed.
"You’re harder to kill than the others, Leo. I’ll give you that," she said. Her "aura" had shifted; the corporate mask had slipped, revealing a jagged, desperate edge. She held a small, silver device in her hand—the remote kill-switch for the Halon system.
"You... you knew," Leo gasped, his voice a ruined crawl. "The Vanguard. They’re coming for you too, Sloane. You’re just a... placeholder."
Sloane stepped forward, the heel of her shoe clicking inches from his face. She knelt down, the scent of her expensive perfume clashing violently with the smell of the gas. "I know exactly who they are. They were Julian’s partners. They think they own the bridge. But I’m a Vane, Leo. We don't share our bridges."
She reached out and gripped his chin, her nails digging into his skin. "Give me the drive. If the Vanguard get it, Oakhaven burns. If I get it, I can buy them off. I can save the company."
"You won't save the South End," Leo spat, the glass drive clicking against his teeth.
"The South End is a graveyard, Leo! It’s been dead for twenty years!" Sloane’s voice rose to a shriek, the first c***k in her perfect composure. "Julian used you to hide the money, and he used me to run the machine. We’re both just tools. But I’m the one with the power to turn the machine off."
Suddenly, the lights in the hallway flickered and died. The silent, heavy thud of the freight elevator echoed from the end of the hall. The Vanguard Cleaners had bypassed the security locks.
The predators were no longer just talking. They were in the room.
- Writer
