She walked down the hallway, darkness encroaching upon her figure, shapes leaping out even though nothing was there. A half hour had passed since the power had gone out in the hotel, worried as the back-up generator had not come on she had gone to find a worker. Her hand crept along the wall, looking for reassurance, or perhaps even safety. Muffled sounds came from behind closed doors as people talked to one another.

Continuing on her way down the hall, she paused as a beam of light appeared suddenly from around a corner. The light approached her, bobbing up and down to the rhythm of its holder’s gait. She opened her mouth to call out, but hesitated when it turned yet another corner into an adjoining hallway. 

Left in the absence of light that was made apparent by the beam she raced after it, looking for the comfort it brought. Nearing the corner, she slowed and peered cautiously around, for no apparent reason at all. The light had disappeared from view, however, as she waited at the corner she heard the faint click of a latch in the near silence that had come about. She hesitated, about to turn back, but in the dark she realized she would never find her room again. 

Treading silently, on the immaculately cleaned carpet of the hall, she came to the door which emitted the click she thought she had heard. She raised her fist, paused, and then rapped lightly upon the door. A brief silence was the answer to the knock, until a soft voice responded, telling her to enter. 

Her hand rested upon the handle to the door, not entirely sure if her presence would be welcomed. She opened the door. Committing herself further, she entered the darkened room. Once well into the hall that accompanied all hotel rooms the door slid shut behind her, emitting yet another small click. Almost in a trance, she didn’t notice the action and continued into the room.

Behind her a dull clicking of heels upon tile was heard from the bathroom. The sound seemed to strike a memory within her and her eyes widened in fear. Turning slowly, she faced the door as its hinges gave an almost audible creak. A figure stepped from behind the door.

All at once the memories hit her. Her best friend, a secret, and the promise of a lifetime threatened her. Even in the darkness, the figure was surrounded by a rather dim glow, a deep hue of purples and blues. Almost like the mouth of a fish she opened and closed her mouth, gazing at the person. Someone, who by all records, should have been long dead. 

Screams echoed behind the door as the temporary inhabitants of the hotel flocked around the door. A crowd formed around the unyielding efforts to open the door. Eventually, as time went on, the screams faded to sobs, then slight whimpers, and finally an unnatural silence. There was a click, and the door opened to reveal the scene that lay beyond. 

Pictures were taken of the scene, but no articles published. Two photos, that held the utmost importance, were all that was left to the record. One was the girl’s body, strewn upon the floor gazing up with lifeless eyes. The eyes, once a crystal blue, were turned silver by the needles struck into them. Upon her chest, beside the pools of blood, were two lines, intersecting right over her heart.

The second photo, if anyone managed to get past the horror of the first, held a slip of paper framed by the wooden tabletop of a desk. It was small, almost glanced over if no one paid attention, but there was writing upon a piece of paper. An even, unhesitating hand had scrawled two sentences to describe the scene. 

“She told the secret. She broke the promise.”