by Cyantic » Fri May 29, 2020 1:07 pm
Inside docking, you can only describe it as feeling like you've walked into another world. The industrial feel seems to bleed into the room, the unadorned metal and the overly plastic feel seeming to suck the life out of you. It's quiet, it's poorly lit, and massive hangar doors sit on the other side. Between you and that, however, is a vast array of shipping containers. They pack the room from floor to ceiling, like they were meant to sit here for permanent storage. The hanger doors are only visible through small cracks.
A solitary office sits on the walkway you're standing on, looking at the wall of shipping containers. It has a heavy oak door on it - locked - and a sign.
"SORRY, WE'RE CLOSED."
The window reveals a different scene. A hanging light seems to dangle airily over a desk, bloodied. A half decomposed man lies back in a chair, a computer running a screensaver. The room feels impossibly tight, clustering around his half exposed chest from his torn shirt.
A knife is stabbed in him. A necklace with a blue rose is wrapped around it.
It's Leontiy.