EMMA
The darkness in my apartment was a suffocating shroud, but I couldn’t stay there. I couldn't sit in the shadows and wait for the door to splinter or the fire escape to yield. Fear is a paralyzing poison, but rage—pure, incandescent rage—is the antidote.
I didn't open the door for the creature outside. I didn't wait for the handle to turn. I grabbed my coat, shoved my dying phone into my pocket, and bolted through the bathroom window that led to the adjacent building's roof. I ran until my lungs burned, until the rain washed the scent of ozone from my skin, and until I found myself standing in front of the one place I vowed I would never return.
The Roche Global headquarters was a monolith of glass and steel in the heart of the City. It gleamed like a jagged tooth against the bruise
