Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Luna sighed, running nails along her scalp in an attempt to soothe herself. She had found herself unable to sit still, attempting to ignore the non-wavering stares people sent her way as she paced along the airports floors, dragging her suitcase alongside her, setting its handle against her hip. Luna hadn't been able to just sit around and relax in quite some time... especially since... well, what had happened.

Breathing exercises did nothing to cease her anxiety as Doctor Myers had reassured her they should. Nor did restless pacing either Luna supposed, but what else could she do? She felt wretched scurrying around and basking in her nerves and even more wretched just sitting there and attempting to patiently wait for the planes preparation to halt.

She wasn't frightened of planes. Luna had never been frightened of planes. She'd gone on her first flight at the age of seven to move to New York, then moved away again when her father got a new job in Toronto, then they moved again when Luna was eleven to Washington. And to add upon that, Luna had gone on flights alone as a child too, being sent away to her Grandma's was a frequent task to her during the summers.

Luna's parents had always taught her to be independent in that way. Growing up flying, Luna was never really afraid of it and she wasn't now either, it was just the prospect of being so far away from her family now that made her so anxious.

She'd lived in Washington far enough from her family not to have frequent visits but it was still somewhat of a comfort understanding they were just mere hours away from one another. Still, Luna hadn't ever been close enough to her parents to ever rely on them for safety, so she didn't understand why she was panicking so much now.

Luna's anxiety had spiked since that night. It had spiked so high, Luna could hardly continue her work without freaking out and checking her windows and cameras every few seconds. Not only did this disturb Luna's investigations, it worried her friends who suggested she take a mere break.

Her friends didn't understand. Luna had never spoken to anyone about what happened that night, or about the strange man she met named Tanner, or the file he gave her. They all just assumed she was tired, or hungry or spiraling with grief from her cousins death. Her parents didn't understand either, they tried to provide her support, coming over frequently and offering her small attempts at medication suggestions.

Luna didn't tell them and honestly... she wasn't sure if she ever planned to. The cops would be called, obviously, and an investigation would likely be run. But Luna doubted anything would come of it, she hadn't heard much of Adam's associates or Adam himself but reading criminal documents often, she could take away that he was practically a dark web legend. And his associates weren't caught often and when they were, they didn't stay in containment for very long.

Tanner had mentioned Adam, he'd skimmed over owing favours to him. Luna was drowsy from the drugs, but the chat she shared with Tanner wasn't very forgettable.

If Tanner was working with Adam, Luna didn't think the cops would be able to catch him... and honestly even if he wasn't working with Adam at all, he seemed like the type to not get caught. Therefore if Luna tattled and allowed her friends and family to contact the cops, Tanner and the kidnapper likely wouldn't even be caught, they just might be a little pissed if they found out...

Luna clutched her messenger bag closer to her chest, absentmindedly skimming her fingertips over her documents until eventually her fingers brushed along the edge of the folder.

Luna had taken it practically everywhere with her after Tanner had given it, keeping it strung to her side at all times... but Luna hadn't mustered enough strength and bravery in herself to even open it just yet.

Tanner... he'd said it contained all the information Luna needed regarding the Blue Blood Killer, but still every time she went to pry it open, she felt like she was choking. It was half the reason why she was moving to Japan... to be able to investigate the killer and finally open the folder far and tucked away safe from her past.

Luna sighed and slumped slightly, finally settling against a wall, picking at her cubicles and biting on her nails thoughtfully. She'd miss her family... but she didn't really plan to return for a lengthy visit. They'd have to visit her because Luna really didn't feel like going back.

The speaker let out a sing-song chime followed by the voice of an agent, calling Luna's flight number and informing everyone it was time to board the flight.

Luna reluctantly trailed into the forming line towards the gates, staring up at the screen hanging overhead everyone, displaying their final destinations.

Yokohama, Japan hadn't really been a thought-out decision by Luna. When she realized she wanted out, she really wanted out. Luna just typed in recent flights and figured Japan was far enough so she booked it. It was wretchedly expensive but her parents offered to pay it sympathetically.

Luna could've paid it herself but it might've taken a larger chunk from her travel funds and after being suspended from her office job years back, she wasn't exactly rich just with her crime catching program and side investigations. She was lucky her mother was so insistent on Luna "taking a break", she argued Luna down and paid it. Her father wasn't as persistent or arguable about the situation, but he wasn't unwilling to pay.

Luna still couldn't help but feel guilt as she neared the desk, boarding ticket clutched between fingers. Her mother and father were retired surgeons, so they could definitely pay it off but it just made her feel so strange whenever she accepted help from others. Her remorse didn't mix well with her unease.

"Identification or passport and boarding ticket?" The agent at the desk inquired, extending her hand.

Luna dug out her passport from her bag and handed it to the agent, sliding her boarding pass onto her palm. The woman only briefly stared at them before handing them back and gesturing Luna away with a small smile.

Luna took a deep breath, trying not to spare the airport another glance as she travelled into the gate and walked along the carpet. The plane wasn't very far, which was lucky for Luna considering it didn't give her much time to rethink anything. She didn't have an emotional connection to Washington in particular but she was going to miss her family... and maybe even her small house too, even considering the... event that had occurred within it.

Luna boarded the plane, nodded at a flight attendant as she travelled down the aisles. She'd been careful to reserve herself an aisle seat, the window seats were just too bright for her and who actually wanted the middle seat? But she didn't get the luxury of having a seat in the front due to the fact the flight was packed as is considering the Christmas season was closing in.

She'd miss her family for Christmas too, but she wasn't one to get too festive anyway so Luna was sure her family would have as good as a time without her there anyway.

Luna sat in the same row as a quiet business woman, whom fixed Luna a warning glare as soon as she sat... like Luna would be loud or something. Another woman was squashed against the window, but she seemed pretty reserved as well, to Luna's relief. So the flight would seemingly be quiet, which was fine by her. Luna could hold a conversation like an average person, she wasn't introverted but Luna wasn't extroverted at all either. And she just couldn't bring herself to talk with someone without them speaking first typically.

She leaned against the chair, tugging her laptop out of her bag, trying to ignore how anxious she felt.

As soon as they'd take off Luna would be away from all of this, she'd be free from what happened months ago.

She'd be free.

☠︎︎  ☠︎︎  ☠︎︎

Clint sighed, leaning over and dusting himself off. With a lack of moving vans, he had to shove things into a variety of suitcases which included the dissembled chair. Clint hadn't taken anything else except for that chair, but somehow everything (including himself) managed to get drenched in sawdust and now reeked of wood and felt like splinters. He was thankful his clothes were in a totally different suitcase... but it didn't make the situation any better.

This was Clint's fifth location swap. First he moved a few neighbourhoods down from his old house, then he moved in with his friend, then he started to crash at work, then Clint figured he didn't want to be around any of the past at all and fled town and after months of wandering from apartment to apartment aimlessly, he finally booked a flight and left.

Cutting off the dark web was easy enough, Clint just deleted his browsing history and when paranoia got a better hold of him he dropped his device off at the dump as well. But he still never could shake the feeling that the strings to it weren't entirely disconnected... and like they'd never be at all.

That's exactly why Clint decided to hop countries. It was going to hopefully be a new start, a fresh life, away and apart from the looming memories of Adam's games... and Amalea's screams.

Japan was admittedly a large jump, but it's not like Clint was leaving much behind. He had a few minor friends at his job, sure, but they weren't really close to Clint, besides he cut his parents off years ago. Nobody even questioned the move, which was fine by Clint, it just made things easier for him overall.

Even if they did question it, what would Clint say? He's running away from the past? That's too vague, they'd want him to elaborate and there was no way in a million years that Clint would admit to scrolling along an illegal website. He'd be arrested and Adam would likely still be running free, so the moment Clint would pop out of jail he'd probably be taught what exactly happened to snitches in the dark web world.

Clint attempted to shake away his thoughts, the reason why he moved was to escape from all of this, he shouldn't be thinking about it so constantly. But sometimes it was difficult to ignore.

A small knock at the door nudged Clint out of his thoughts and he looked up with a frown, suddenly recalling where he was. Right, Yokohama, in an apartment, with other residents nearby. Clint wondered if it was his new neighbours at the door, did Japanese people do that? Greet people? Probably, it was basic etiquette.

Clint approached the door, still trying to brush the sawdust off of him as he pried the door open, grimacing as it let out a shrill squeak and slid roughly against the wood below. The apartments weren't exactly old but they weren't entirely new either and sometimes it could evidently be told... like with the doors.

Two people stood behind his door with bright smiles. The first thing Clint could pinpoint was that they didn't look Japanese, the woman looked like a classical American with silky blonde hair and large dark brown eyes. The man had a darker shade of skin than the woman and a buzzcut sliced across his head, his smile was wider and more genuine. Their arms were linked together affectionately, seemingly a couple.

"Hello!" The man said, extending a hand. "You must be our new neighbour. We've been waiting for one ever since our old one left!"

Clint took the mans hand, shaking it, trying to soften the frown that was always instinctively etched across his face. He sounded American, Clint wondered how long the two had been living there for.

"I'm Max and this is Dina." The man informed Clint, gesturing to the woman who waved and also offered her hand.

She had cold fingers, Clint could see a ring looping over her finger, likely signifying engagement.

"Hi." She said shortly.

Clint tried not to feel extremely awkward as he met her eyes and she furrowed her brows.

"Hi." Clint replied curtly.

"We hope you'll enjoy your stay here!" Max exclaimed. "You don't have to worry about us, by the way. Me and her try to be as respectful as we can, no parties, no noise- which I don't think you'll have to worry about from any of us anyway, the walls here are thick. I just hope we can expect the same respect from you!"

"Ah." Clint muttered.

Clint hadn't hosted a party before in his life, or attended one in years, these two probably didn't have much to worry about.

"I'm Clint." Clint informed the pair.

"Cool! My brothers named Clint!" Max replied.

"... Yeah."

Extroverts.

Dina broke out into a small smile, clearly the more reserved orientated one of the couples. She wrapped her arm around Max's chest, staring at Clint apologetically.

"Sorry, he's a bit of a chatty one," Dina explained, "he's just excited to get another neighbour after the previously one left. He was a bitter guy, but I can tell from the looks of you that you're not."

She needs to look a little harder.

"Well, I see you have unpacking to do, so we'll quit bugging you now!" Max reassured him, much better at finishing the exchange than Clint would've been. "But while we still have you, we just wanted to invite you to a little gathering in our room tomorrow at noon. It's basically just where some of the residents on our floor come over and we all chat a little, just for fun. Would you like to attend?"

Oh, a social gathering. Great.

"... Sure."

"Great! We hope to see you then!" Max cheered, taking Dina by her arm and beginning to gently steer her away.

As soon as it was safe, Clint shut the door behind them and internally cursed himself. He really wished he could come up with excuses quicker, it was just an instinctive reaction to agree no matter the topic when someone was socializing with you, to Clint anyway.

Clint recalled his therapists words, he had always been vague with Dr. Sophie but she always caught the hint somehow. When she discovered Clint was moving, attempting to start anew, one of the pieces of advice she gave him was making friends, informing him that it would assist in the moving on process. Clint was hoping to be alone, deserted from everyone while he internally recovered, but if getting friends would help him then... then so be it.

Clint's apartment wasn't small, but it wasn't too large either. He had a bathroom and a bedroom, including a large living room and kitchen tucked off against a wall. Clint doubted what he had packed would be able to fill the place.

But he'd have to make do.

☠︎︎  ☠︎︎  ☠︎︎

When the plane finally landed it was pitch black out. She knew it snowed in Yokohama, but it was still a little surprising to see the dried snow and ice littering the sidewalks as she stepped out of the airport with her suitcase in tow, other passengers flooding out behind her. Luna could've sworn there had been at least eight crying babies on that flight but she'd thankfully bought noise cancelling headphones for a reason.

She'd picked new ones up at the airport after she'd disposed of her old ones back home, mainly because of Luna's growing paranoia it was near impossible to wear them previously but she figured she was safe enough in an airplane. 

Luna stood near the edge of the airport, awaiting a taxi. She wasn't willing to charge near the edge of the street for one but because others were, it left her waiting behind, awkwardly maneuvering her bag over her arm and readjusting her grip on the suitcase.

Luna hadn't packed much, no old furniture, just the five outfits she already owned and her investigations. She'd purchased one of the smaller apartments so she figured she wouldn't need much anyway and she never really had any decor that was special to her. Except for her great grandmothers urn, but she was bringing that. Her mother would probably kill her if she discovered Luna didn't drag it along.

She'd likely have to go furniture shopping tomorrow, but for the time being Luna could settle with her blow-up mattress she used during college that she was pretty sure had a hole in it because every time she awoke on it; it was fully deflated to the floor.

As Luna stood, speculating about her tomorrow plans and retracting her phone from her pocket to check the apartment locations again, suddenly unease prickled up her neck. Luna had felt paranoid constantly ever since her house had been invaded, so it wasn't exactly a new feeling to hit her... but for some reason, this feeling felt strangely different. Immediately Luna tried to shake it off as her anxiety expanding off of things again but it just felt so... odd.

Like something was poking at her. Like someone was watching her...

Luna remembered that feeling.

Luna hurried towards the edge of the street, accidentally nudging a man aside, waving a taxi her way. Watching with urgency as it slid beside her, before seizing the door and clambering inside before anyone else could. The driver said something in Japanese, which Luna unfortunately hadn't put much research into, but after just saying the apartments names, he seemed to get the point.

The feeling didn't leave her until the car had fully driven off. Luna knew she must've just been overcome with paranoia and it must've just been nothing but an overreaction.

But Luna wasn't willing to risk it.

Chapter Text

It was still late when the taxi pulled into the hotels parking lot. It was a bit of a struggle to pay the driver, due to her lack of Japanese currency but eventually they managed to work their way through the language barrier and she paid with American dollars before thanking him and climbing out of the car.

Speaking of cars, Luna was really going to need one. She didn't have a job here yet and she hadn't really began to display her crime analyzing system to anyone. Before, in her small town, it was easy to advertise it subtly but in a city likely full of other advertisements and private investigators, it was hard to tell how it would be able to make it. Small advertisements would be a start overall Luna supposed...

But alongside that, Luna needed another job to work during the day, preferably one thats easy to get and work. She knew jobs like that usually tied into customer service work but honestly after working in fast food joints for so long in college, she didn't think she could possibly bring herself to do a side job similar to those ever again. Customers were always shy, awkward or angry, but mostly angry.

She stared up at the building. It was decently tall (sensibly so, to fit all of the rooms), but not as wide and not fancy either. Its walls were a dull shade of brown with a white roof. A small lamented pamphlet sat off to the side with rows of written rules and a horizontal sign was laid across the middle with the hotels name branded across it in Japanese. Luna was pretty sure its name was Suzu's Units in English. But she couldn't remember.

The feeling of being watched had left Luna long ago but she didn't want to risk it returning and hurried into the building, dragging her suitcase behind her, stumbling across the scattered rocks and struggling to drag the suitcase up onto the elevated sidewalk as she went. Luna could've sworn she hadn't packed much but in that moment it felt like a challenge trying to heave it up.

Luna pushed past the doors, a small bell signifying her arrival as she ducked inside. The first thing Luna noticed was how warm the building was, the second thing being the soft yellow light that illuminated across the entire lobby. Small orange chairs were tucked to the side, a large rectangular beige carpet spread across the floor, lined with potted plants.

A small desk sat near the end with two elevators on either side of it, a small lava lamp perched upon a stack of paperwork. A small woman was on the other side of it who looked considerably younger than Luna, possibly in late high school. She had dark hair that was cropped into a bob and a choker sitting against her throat, violet nails sifting through paperwork, her dark eyes shooting up as Luna approached.

She smiled and murmured a greeting in Japanese but when Luna clearly didn't seem to get it, the girl muttered something then spoke in English, her voice laced with a thick accent.

"Welcome, how can I help?" The girl wondered, pausing her task and placing the paperwork back on the desk.

"Hi, I'm just moving in. My names Luna, Luna Youngman." Luna clarified.

Luna really had to learn some Japanese, she'd attempted to take some lessons on the plane using an app but all it had taught her so far was colours.

"Oh," The girl said, her face brightening with recognition, "okay. You're the reason I'm here still. I was waiting for you so I could..."

She trailed off, the girls English wasn't perfect but Luna figured this was more of her own fault for not taking the time to learn Japanese herself.

"I am Danuja." The girl informed Luna, nodding politely. "I was told to give you your keys. My father does mostly, but he is sick."

This made a little more sense now. The girl was likely just helping out her fathers apartments, when Luna had registered it had been a man she'd called so it was odd at first to see a girl at the desk.

Danuja turned around and leaned forward, drawing a key from one of the hooks against the wall and offering it to Luna. It was cool as Luna took in between her fingers and clearly rusted. It was incredibly tiny too, she mentally noted to tuck it somewhere safe. Luna didn't have a keychain for all her keys but supposed she might as well get one now, she'd need one, especially for such a small key.

"This is for your room." Dajuna informed Luna, tapping lightly on the key.

She turned again, kneeling momentarily before pulling herself to her feet again and laying a container filled to the brim with keys atop the desk. The keys looked the same, likely copies, considering the way she absentmindedly dug her hand into the container and drew a random key before presenting it to Luna.

"This is for there." Dajuna said, turning and pointing towards a door to the left, against the wall.

Luna frowned, but didn't attempt to question it much. It must've just been for laundry or something, Luna's old apartment she had before getting her house had something similar but with coffee-brewing and a bunch of microwaves bundled inside of a room instead. Which was strange but her old apartment was dedicated towards college and university students anyway so it wasn't that shocking.

"That elevator does not work." Dajuna added, indicating the elevator to her right.

She tugged out a paper from beneath the container and handed it to Luna.

"This has our number on it. Call if something happens, we are not at a desk always." Dajuna warned Luna.

Luna nodded and Dajuna smiled and nodded back, clearly relieved by Luna's understanding, settling backwards into a chair.

She waved as Luna reluctantly stepped away from the desk and headed towards the (only functioning) elevator. There was a door leading to a stairwell tucked in the dark beside the elevator, but Luna figured she might as well get used to the elevator while she could... even if it sounded incredibly rusty while it slowly slid down.

With a loud ding, the elevators doors unfolded and Luna stepped instead, grimacing as the lights dimmed briefly under the weight of someone being upon it. It was clearly an old thing, or maybe was just made by cruddy mechanics with cruddy materials. The elevators floor was messy and lined with squashed cigarettes and wrappers, scattered with dust. The ceiling had an obnoxiously bright light that kept on flickering and the elevator squealed as it moved.

Luna glanced down at the elevators buttons, slightly illuminated lights beaming from beneath the buttons cover, the cover of the button for the seventh floor was torn off so you'd likely have to slam your finger down inside of the mechanics to get it to move there... luckily Luna was staying on the eighth floor, so she wouldn't be doing that. There were nine floors in the building, so Luna had taken the second highest, and although she would've preferred one of the lower floors apparently there were hardly any rooms on the lower floor, therefore they were all filled.

She hit the button, grimacing as the elevators doors snapped closed and it screeched as it began to elevate, the elevator shaking slightly and sending Luna backwards so she was forced to grip onto the elevators railing, just nearly avoiding touching dried gum stuck to it last second. The apartments exterior all seemed pretty nice and furnished... but hell, they really had to get the elevator fixed... and deep cleaned.

The elevator dinged loudly and the doors unfolded again, revealing a lengthy hallway. The floor was carpeted with oddly vintage red and yellow swirls and the hallway extended all the way towards a window and the stairwell door, without the hallway turning. Leaving Luna in a thin secluded hallway as she stepped out.

At least five doors were along the walls, Luna's was the last one, the 26th room. Golden letters branded onto a wooden door, Luna dug out the key she'd been provided and entered it into the slot. Twisting the key, the door clicked open and Luna pushed her way inside, immediately clicking the door shut behind her.

Luna hadn't rented the smallest room, but she'd ensured not to get a larger room either. Being in an open yet crowded space where she could hardly see who was coming... or who was already inside just made her anxious nowadays. So she got herself one of the smaller rooms, a room which would ensure she would be able to see who'd enter and exit, just by watching the entryway but would be livable enough for her to function in. 

It had a simple layout, a living room, kitchen and a small bedroom that led into an even smaller bathroom. The room looked like it hadn't been used it quite some time, the floorboards squeaked quietly from beneath her feet and dust scattered atop some of the shelves connected to the wall, even a small cobweb dangled from the ceiling. Luna didn't really mind spiders to a terrified extent like some people she'd met had, but it made the apartment look unkempt, so she knew she had to take it down.

Luna sighed and laid her suitcase across the floor, gazing around the room with a slight frown. She knew she should probably prepare herself for sleep, dig her blow up mattress out and light a candle but something held her back. At first Luna dismissed it as unease towards the new environment but the more she stood, the worse the apprehension got.

It felt like her throat was constricting, although she certainly could still breathe, it felt like something was clawing at her chest.

Screw this. Luna needed some air.

☠︎︎  ☠︎︎  ☠︎︎

Clint these days felt like a machine. He hardly ate and slept, yet still somehow functioned and didn't falter due to the fear holding him up 24/7. It wasn't ideal but it still somehow brought Clint relief knowing if he were to be attacked during the night, he'd at least see it coming. It used to be the opposite for Clint, his first time delving into the dark web, Clint was apprehensive so he went to sleep, in hopes that if he were to die, then it would be in his sleep.

But now Clint knew better, if one of Adam's associates were to kill him, they'd likely wake him up first so he could see them impaling him to death. Ignorance really was a bliss, and it pissed off Clint knowing that he knew things now.

Clint sighed, taking three steps towards the wall then three steps back, then taking an extra step, just to get off of the number six. Oh and yes, Clint's obsession with how many times he did something was beginning to drive him crazy too. His therapist had informed him that what he had described was relating to symptoms of a mental illness, but Clint wasn't even sure if he wanted to hear about it. Hearing about what new mental illness he'd achieved was like hearing about a new irritating collectible that he couldn't throw out.

Clint gazed around the empty room, the only thing filling it being his suitcase tucked to the side and himself. He didn't know what he was doing. Clint didn't know what he even planned to do. Before he had an objective, move around and stay alive, but now that he hadn't moved to likely his final stay and nothing around him seemed really life threatening, he had no idea what to do with himself.

Clint rubbed his eyes. Whatever he decided to do next, he couldn't just stand there forever and let his own thoughts consume him. He had to move, he had to busy himself with something relatively motivating. And Clint knew what would motivate him.

Clint dug through his suitcase and tugged out his case, mechanics rattling around from the inside. His security system wasn't really a high-tech, or brilliant made one, Clint had just purchased the smallest and most practical things from Best Buy which just consisted of five cameras, an alarm and a device you jammed under the door that locked in and made it difficult to open. Clint knew others likely had better, but it wasn't like he could start installing more evolved security methods into an apartment he didn't technically fully own.

Clint stared at the cameras for a few moments, the alarm could just be stuck to the door later on and the door blocker was easy enough to install, the real issue was where he planned to put the cameras. The cameras were decently small, unnoticeable enough in darker settings. But they weren't exactly invisible pinpricks and where would Clint put them? In the room in which Clint already was going to see everything in?

Clint's eyes dragged towards his apartment door... maybe he didn't have to place them in his apartment, maybe he could put one in the hallway and one at the buildings entrance? But wasn't recording people without official consent on private property illegal? Hadn't Clint done enough illegal tasks as is?... Wouldn't it technically be paying everyone in the building a favour by keeping a watch out anyway?

It wasn't like he would be watching them doing anything personal... he'd just get to see whose walking in.

Clint had already made up his mind, he walked towards the door, taking two of his cameras in his hands and walking himself out of the door, ducking into the dim lighting of the hall and peering around. No lingering people were out and about, so Clint figured the coast was clear and fully stepped into the hall.

There wasn't much places to put it, Clint couldn't really stick it anywhere either so instead he propped it against the top of his door, clicking it on and preparing to duck hurriedly back inside the room when suddenly the neighbouring door burst open, the sound of a child crying filtering from the room.

A woman with ragged dark hair stumbled from the room, looking frustrated, brushing her apron off, cussing under her breath in a surprisingly soft tone. She began to head past Clint and towards the elevator when she noticed him and her eyes flooded with relief.

"Oh, hello! I'm so sorry but my daughter was playing on the roof earlier, I know, unsafe, but when your child is finally entertained, you don't really want to stop them." The woman laughed nervously. "Anyway, she left her doll and I need to go get it because its the only thing that keeps her relatively sane, but I have my hands full as is and I know I can't leave the room for very long. My husband is sleeping, but the baby's awake and my sister is over and she's sick, oh it's all a mess. Um, do you mind getting the doll... for me? Please?"

Clint blinked at her. The lack of sleep he'd received within the last few days slamming him right back in the face, making it difficult to comprehend her flurry of words.

"Um."

"Thank you! Please be quick! The tantrum will turn physical soon!" The woman cried before disappearing back into the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Clint stood there for a few moments, mulling over her words before letting out a disgruntled sigh and heading towards the stairwell (after his first elevator trip, he wasn't sure if he wanted to take the elevator again). The door was heavy, Clint actually having to put in effort to tear open the door, it rattled loudly and let out an ominous groan as he pulled it open.

The stairwell was eerily dark, illuminated by nothing more than a small lightbulb that was been swarmed by moths. Staring at the ascending darkness, he almost rethought helping her, but he figured that if this woman was going to be his new neighbour, he might as well make an impression. Clint took up the stairs, hurrying as quickly as he could manage. Thankfully, being on one of the higher floors, he didn't have to traverse that far.

But as soon as Clint crossed the eighth floor, he heard a loud thump sound from below the stairs. Clint froze instinctively, turning back around to face the darkness. But whatever the noise was, it didn't sound again... Clint for a split second felt like he was being taunted but quickly reassured himself. Paranoia had become Clint's worst enemy over the days and now whenever something the slightest bit creepy happened his mind always flitted back to Adam. Is this one of Adam's tricks? Is Clint in a game again? It was always those same questions, ringing through his head.

Clint carefully rushed up the last few steps and pushed himself onto the rooftop, having to make the same effort to pull it open as it did on the previous floor. Brisk air hitting his face, a sharp breeze running past him that wasn't particularly loud but certainly was cold. He shivered, gazing around the roof. It was mainly deserted, railings encircling the rooftop, a large satellite sitting off to the side. No dolls in sight.

Clint was too preoccupied gazing around the roof in a rush, hoping to find the doll soon so he could get out of the weather as soon as possible, it took him a few moments for his eyes to lay on the city beyond the railings. Bright lights, buildings the stretched towards the sky, shrouded in fog, twinkling headlights that shot by on roads below.

Clint found himself approaching the railing, staring off into the distance, for the first time in possibly months, feeling a sense of bliss overcome him. Clint sighed for possibly the millionth time that day, digging out his box of cigarettes from his jacket and a lighter from his other pocket. Clint had taken up smoking beyond investigating the dark web, but it was more recently that Clint was doing it on a daily basis rather than a monthly.

He lit the cigarette, absentminded again, bringing it to his lips and exhaling smoke. He stood there for a few moments, leaning against the balcony until his peace was (of course) interrupted by the sound of the stairwell being heaved open. Clint turned, going from expecting the worst to expecting the mother to being surprised to see a woman stumble from the stairwell and towards the railing right next to him, breathing heavily.

She wasn't the same mother as before, or the other woman, Diane. Instead she had light bushy brown hair that only went slightly past her shoulders, a troubled wince etched across her face. She didn't seem to notice Clint for a few moments, but seemed to sense his eyes on her after a few moments and flinched when she noticed him standing there, just staring, cigarette propped between fingers.

"Hi." Clint said.