Leveled

It's a long way down. Lockwood Towers June 1st, 2013 "???"

Noises in the halls chase Sarah and Cyrus down to the ground floor, seeming to leak right out from under every door and nip at the backs of their ears.

As they rush out of the first floor stairwell, the door cracks against the wall in their hurry. They run past #132, past #111, they don't know what the rest of the residents of Lockwood Towers have been through tonight. Sarah weaves and slams her palm into the wall like a drunk, just trying to remain upright and focused long enough to get to the woman in the elevator — if there really is a woman in the elevator.

The elevator door is open when they reach it. The ornate antique door of crisscrossing metal is all that separates Lucy from the quiet lobby.

Cyrus's fingers claw at the crisscrossing metal like he's never opened the elevator before. The logic of the machine seems to evade him. Hands work faster than his mind, not that they're having much success. In fact, he says all of nothing as he begins his work. "Hey," he finally utters somewhat vacantly. His mind is dull, clunky, and altogether vacant. "We. We'll get you out of there." It is open, after all.

The form of Lucy is collapsed on the floor of the elevator: legs tucked under and her chest and face crumpled on top, arms wrapped around herself. She is shivering and looks as if she is making herself as small as possible. The heels that were the cause of this all are strewn, forgotten, behind her. The voices that she hears continue. Before they were whispering and crawled up the back of her neck. Now they seem to come from in front of her. The banging of the metal doors continues and she tightens the ball. It doesn't even seem to have occurred to her that the elevator has stopped.

There is a brief moment where she glimpses through her hair and sees Cyrus through the gate. In that moment, she springs to action. Tears have streaked down her cheeks and she doesn't care that she's barefoot. "Oh God, please, get me out of here. Before it takes me up again. Please, please." Hands tear at the metal. She is a desperate animal attempting to get out of her cage.

Sarah's en route behind Cyrus, slowed down not only by her unstable equilibrium, but by shooting a look into the security office for any clue as to why Barry isn't already here, helping. The office is darkened, missing even the dull glow of the security monitors. A secondary concern to the woman in the elevator— who Sarah abruptly recognizes as she barrels closer. "Lucy! Whoa, whoa, hey, girl, you're okay." Never mind that Sarah, herself, looks terrible, pale and shock-eyed: her voice is a calmer drawl as she helps Cyrus shove the gate all the way open and reaches in.

With the gate open, Cyrus's eyebrows draw together sharply. How is this even possible? "Come on," he urges the girl inside as Sarah reaches in. He gives the gate a good push, even though it is open. Faulty mechanics. His eyes narrow as he suggests, "Take a deep breath— "

Lucy's breaths are not deep, but gasping and hyperventilated. Not a care is given for her discarded shoes as she tumbles forward, grateful to be out of the elevator. "B-blood…all over…" She's not making any sense and she certainly does not seem to be calming down. In fact, she barely even notices that there is anyone else here despite being involved in a conversation with them. However, as she stumbles forward, it's possible to see that the hands that she's holding away from her body do indeed have red on them, like fresh blood. There's more of it inside of the elevator and on her back.