Tangled
Chapter 243
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243 Lisa: Strange Introductions
LISA
Wherever I am, it's huge.
We've taken at least three or four turns, and I've already forgotten how to get back. Was it left
it?
first, or right? The last turn was to our right. Wait... Wten how to get back. Was it left
Shit.
Every time I lag behind, trying to map this place in my head-which is little better than at toddler's scribbling at this point, with my confusion over lefts and rights-the tiny woman turns and scolds me, telling me to pick up my
feet.
Before, I would have given her some sort of smartass comment and maybe even slowed down.
But now, my body feels cold sweat at the idea of making her angry. Even if I'm a prisoner, at least I'm a clean and comfortable prisoner here. I don't want to go back to the previous standard of kidnapping.
So I shut my mouth and hurry behind, wondering how she can be so freaking fast with such tiny legs. She's probably the size of a kindergartener, but faster than a full-grown adult.
What bizarre witchcraft is that?
I force myself to focus on the path ahead, ignoring the endless parade of closed doors lining these stark corridors. No pictures, no decorations, not even a potted plant breaks up the monotony. Just door after identical door, their handles gleaming dully in the harsh overhead lighting.
The silence is oppressive. Our footsteps echo off the bare walls, amplifying the sound until it feels like we're being followed by an army. I resist the urge to look over my shoulder. "Keep up, my tiny guide snaps for what feels like the hundredth time.
I lengthen my stride, closing the gap between us. Seriously though, how can someone so small move so fast?
We round another corner, and I blink in surprise, Windows. Actual windows line this hallway, letting in natural light.
Wow.
The sun.
it in
can get a good look outside, my guide veers sharply to the right. She pushes open
I stumble, momentarily
some kind of massive greenhouse. Lush greenery
243
Lisa: Strango Introductions
and spilling out of planters. The air is thick with the scent of damp
flowers.
cotton outfit,
warmth pressing down on us. I trail after her, trying not to trip over
a thought strikes
could turn around right now and bolt. My guide is tiny. I could easily outpace her if I
But then what?
surge of hope fades as quickly as it appeared. I have no idea where I am or how to get out of this place. Those
what punishment would await me for trying to
and hurry to catch up with my
old man sits at a table. His beard cascades to his feet, and he peers through spectacles at a newspaper covered in unfamiliar script. A lavish spread of tea and snacks
it's sized for normal
kind of booster that gets him to the level he needs to reach the
I'm too worried about my
guide shoves me into a chair. I stumble, barely catching myself as I fall into
tea. The greenhouse's humid air clings to my skin, making me acutely aware of every bead of sweat forming on my body. I shift in my seat, wishing it was easier to breathe in this
anywhere. Would rather not be
this old man that puts me at ease. A sense
we've never met.
should be on high alert. Instead, I find myself relaxing
of safety-it has to be some kind of trick. Maybe they've drugged me. Maybe this whole setup is designed to lull me into a false
security.
force myself to stay alert. I won't
his Ble. 1
internal study him, searching for any hint of malice or
unhurried as he reads.
movements
newspaper and sets it aside. His gaze meets mine, and I'm struck by the intensity in his eyes. They're old eyes, yes, but sharp and
his voice surprisingly strong and deep for such a small
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