Song Recommendation: Unholy by Sam Smith
Through the tiny gap of the locker door, Drogo watched.
Karen stood still before the remains she had just destroyed of the door, surveying the room slowly with poised arms.
She stood unhinged, like she hadn't just knocked down a 40kg door with a fist. And in that moment, Drogo realized that no matter how prepared he thought he was, no measure could have truly contained his shock every time he witnessed her.
He let his chest expand slightly, forcing himself to breathe evenly.
Drogo could not move yet, cautious not to risk revealing even a hint of panic, though the slick taste of adrenaline coated his tongue. The flash drive felt heavy in his pocket, as it was his main object of coming this far into this pit — far into this hell he fought so hard to detach from.
Drogo gulped.
Karen finally stepped forward, her heels stepping over the raffled sheets on the floor as she halted before the control.
