Leave the Warehouse

You glance at the woman behind you and choose not to question your luck. You push your hands into your pockets and skulk away, through the warehouse and out the gaping front door. You risk one glance back at the building as you leave the premises. You cannot shake the feeling of unease.

You have a dream, or rather nightmare, again tonight. You saw the warehouse and its ugly stained walls. You descended into the depths of the warehouse and you find a room, the same as in last night's dream. The dark and dank room is illuminated with a plethora of candles melting into puddles. The room was filled with hooded figures in long brown robes. In a clearing at their center was a man, a different male than from last night's dream, but he is injured and begging for his life between screams. The girl you met briefly in the warehouse appears in the dream, she enters the room with her firearm and begins gunning down the anonymous assailants. The screams of the victim wake you before you conclude what happens.

Over the course of the next few nights, you continue to have this unpleasant and violent nightmare. There is a different victim every night, always people you've never met before, and you wonder why you are seeing them in your mind. You are confused, but not curious enough to venture back into the warehouse, not willingly anyways.

One night, while laying in your bed, you hear soft and slow foot steps coming down the hallway. You do not find it unusual until you notice the steps have paused outside your door. The door creaks open and you stare into the dark hallway, trying to see through the dark and identify the 'guest'.

As soon as the being steps forward you recognize from your dreams one of the hooded figures that are apparently responsible for so much pain. Before you can react to escape, fight back, or scream for help, the anonymous person is upon you.

The vision of your dreams becomes true for yourself as they return you to the warehouse and accumulate in the basement. A circle is drawn around you on the floor and within it are archaic symbols with unknown meaning to you. They weigh down on you, trapping you there, cementing you to where you now kneel.

Knowing the fate that awaited you, you try to find answers, "Who are you? What is this place and why have you brought me here?"

The gathering ignores your statements. Their focus is in aligning themselves together and beginning a slow rhythmic hymn.

Refusing to be ignored you raise your voice, "I know there were others! I saw them, I saw you brought other people here. Boys, girls, men, women!" One of the figures turns his attention from an altar to study you more seriously now.

From beneath his hood you can make out some of his features. He is white skinned, so white he could almost be carved from marble, and he is every bit as flawless. His jawline is prominent and strong and his lips are smooth and full, but tightly closed and serious, entirely unforgiving.

You continue, "That's right, you aren't as hidden down here as you think. The longer you keep this up, the worse it will be for you when the law comes."

The leader is not unnerved by your threat. He barely seems to consider it. In fact he opens a book in his hand and raises a palm over your head. He leads his following into a new chant and the deep and smooth baritone words manifest a nearly tangible presence in the room. The words weigh down on you and become more painful as they continue. The pressure is crushing but any movement to resist it results in a terrible strain on your skin where it threatens to tear itself open if you struggle.

Despite your pleas, they continue with their ritual. The words finally seem to crush your body around you, and tear the life from your frail form. Alone and surrounded by terrifying strangers, it happens...

>>You Die