Misty

It’s been two hours since I left the apartment I share with Georgia. I creep around another corner, sketching the sharp angles of what I believe might be the fourth floor of this Goddess-forsaken fortress, and I’m no closer to finding a way out than I was when I left my rooms.

Another foyer stretches ahead of me, followed by another staircase leading both up and down, splitting down the center. I sigh, tapping my pen on my lip as I ponder whether to take the stairs or keep walking to the exterior bridge that connects this area to another tower, I think.

Whoever built this place was a...