Ficly

Paranoia

The door was shut.

It shouldn’t be shut. Doesn’t make sense. Tailor thought to himself.

If they left in such a hurry, like Sanus claimed, the door would be open. Not closed. They would’ve run down the corridor, bolted through this door, and escaped. They wouldn’t have taken the time to close the door.

No way.

Tailor lifted the light, illuminating the door’s lock, searching for evidence of damage, or barricading, or…anything. But it was simply closed. Locked. Nothing was out of the ordinary except that it was, in itself, ordinary.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched as he studied the door, like someone was hovering over his shoulder, but ten feet back. Tailor glanced back again, only to see a blank wall, devoid of anything.

How could there be no sign? Tailor asked himself. What am I missing? What’s Sanus not telling us?

Tailor scratched his head, confounded by the mystery.

Suddenly, he felt warm breath on his neck.

Tailor spun to see…nothing…

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