THIS IS WHAT THEY WANT.
The words tumbled through April's head as she ran down the spiral staircase, that disappeared into the dark, counting her steps, trying to decide which flower was the right one.
The first one smelled sweet and silky, like it would lull her to sleep forever.
Another smelled putrid and toxic, like a human waste field.
The last one smelled way too perfect, like it was made from the sweetest smelling fruits.
The floor shook as dust rained down on April, her hands scrambling to flower to flower, beads of sweat pouring down her face as a lump formed in her throat, the dust making it hard to breathe. Finally, April made up her mind.
She picked up the perfect smelling flower and threw it to the floor, smashing it under her bare foot. It formed a door on the floor, a brass handle waiting to be touched. April grabbed it and thrust the trapdoor open, and fell down, down, down until her feet hit solid metal.
It felt like the world was holding it's breath- everything was so silent. A soft white light shinned brightly at the end of the room, as her feet pounded rhythmically to the light, and on an onyx stand, was a glass orb, with a small, opalescent mirror that almost blinded April.
April picked up the toxic-smelling flower she had snatched, and pressed the middle to the glass orb. The glass made a sizzling sound, and it dissolved, making the mirror defenseless. She scooped up the mirror, and the light shone brighter, the whole room turning white instead of black.
April held up the mirror, trying to get it at an precise angel, and a beam of light bounced off the surface of the mirror, forming words on one of the walls. April turned to read them, and the mirror dropped from her hand and shattered as she read the message, over and over, dread settling in the pit of her stomach.
THIS IS WHAT THEY WANT.
