Stay close to me...

[Nailah Weaver]

Her voice dwindles down to a whimper and Sam's hand slips out of her own at the yank. Trying to reach out again she stumbles and goes down on her knees. Gasping for air she keeps crawling, hoping she's still going in the right direction.

[Narrator]

A cold hand grabs Nailah, then another.

Then another.

[Nailah Weaver]

"Saaaam!" she shrieks, kicking and squirming, trying to dislodge the hands and pulls herself along

[Samantha McManus]

"No.... No!"

Samantha gritted her teeth in a snarl and shoved at the creatures, trying to push them off of Nailah.

By that time, she was rather sure that she'd gone mad, but it didn't quite seem to matter...

[Narrator]

Some of the surrounding creatures fall away and immediately scrabble back towards the women.

[Nailah Weaver]

Nailah's hand reaches out and finds Sam's again, holding on for dear life and trying to get herself loose from the cold hands closed around her legs.

Something about this would feel horribly familiar to Sam. Maybe not the monstrosities, but the panic in Nailah's voice and the way she had called out for her feel like she had heard before.

[Samantha McManus]

She shook her head. Not allowing herself to think about this right now, not allowing herself to focus on anything but grasping Nailah's hand and yanking her towards the kitchen.

[Narrator]

The women break free of the horde, who continue to follow. The ones at the edge suddenly move faster.

[Nailah Weaver]

Nailah stumbles to her feet and struggles to the kitchen door, heart hammering in her throat.

[Samantha McManus]

Samantha was running again, with Nailah's hand in hers. If the rest of Nailah was coming along, all the better.

She shoved at the kitchen doors.

[Nailah Weaver]

She was and stumbles into the kitchen with her, stopping to brace her back against it as soon as they're through.

[Narrator]

The kitchen is even more dilapidated than the bar had been. Mountains of filthy, rusted metal cookware cover every inch of shelf space. Some have even tumbled to the floor in avalanches of rusted decay. A lone chef's knife stands out of the chaos, lying alone on the tile floor. A obscenely large, wickedly pincered roach darts from one pile to another.

The door to the hall is not boarded.

[Samantha McManus]

Samantha looked to the door, then to Nailah.

[Nailah Weaver]

She nods and then makes a break for the door to the hall.

[Samantha McManus]

Samantha dashed after as fast as she could.

[Narrator]

The door opens with a creak. Beyond is a familiar hall with unfamiliar peeling wallpaper depicting what they could swear is lines of knives. It is, however, blessedly silent and still.

[Nailah Weaver]

Nailah gasps for breath and tries to calm herself down, leaning against the wall and slowly sliding down until she's sitting on the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees.

"Wh-what was that? What is going on here?"

[Samantha McManus]

"I don't know. I... I just don't know..." She panted.

"Something about that was..."

She shook her head, fidgeting with her hair, looking for comfort but finding none.

[Narrator]

"You... you saved me. You got me out of there."

[Samantha McManus]

"What else was I supposed to do?" She asked frantically, trying to put her hair up again but letting it fall from her fingers when she saw the blood on her hand. She shuddered.

[Nailah Weaver]

She looks like she doesn't have an answer to that, going through her purse instead (though most of it's contents got spilled during the chaos) and handing Sam a handkerchief. Not that it'll do much, as the both of them look rather terrible but it's one of the few things she can do right now.

[Samantha McManus]

"I just..."

She took the handkerchief and tried to clean her hand off, with little success.

"I don't know why this is nagging at me. All of that, and... why this?"

[Nailah Weaver]

A hand grabbing and holding her hair, bloody hands, panicked screams, memories flashing through Sam's head.


"Why... why do I feel like I know you, Sam? I... just... I feel like I've seen you before..." And why do I only remember you now as you wipe blood from your hands?

[Samantha McManus]

She gritted her teeth, closing her eyes tightly.

"Not now... no... not now..."

[Nailah Weaver]

"Sam do I know you? Do you know me? Please... What is going on here?"

[Samantha McManus]

"Stop... stop asking, Miss Weaver. I..."

"...I feel badly enough that I left Miss Vazquez behind."

[Nailah Weaver]

"That can't have been her. She... that was one of those things."

[Samantha McManus]

"Not... not yet she wasn't..."

[Nailah Weaver]

"I-is that... oh god, is that what happens to people here?"

[Samantha McManus]

"I don't know, but... she was different."

[Narrator]

That was when the dumbwaiter at the end of the hall came to life with faint grinding noises as it makes it's way up it's shaft.

[Steve Jones]

The small rusty door slowly opened and a familiar form pulled its way out.

[Samantha McManus]

Samantha tensed, looking down the hallway, unsure if she should run or...

[Nailah Weaver]

"M-mister Jones?"

[Steve Jones]

Steve looked over.

"Miss Weaver?" he asked hesitantly. He hadn't remotely expected to come across any living soul.

[Samantha McManus]

"It could be a trick," she murmured.

[Nailah Weaver]

"Steve, I gave you something earlier, do you still have it?"

[Steve Jones]

"The key? Yeah."

[Nailah Weaver]

"See? It's him."

[Samantha McManus]

"We don't know that..."