hydra | svt

CHAPTER FIFTY SIX.

??? pov

my console screen dims to black and i curse under my breath as the crimson words haunt me once again in thick block capitals: GAME OVER.

"well, i guess i should be working," i mumble to no one in particular, switching off the electronic device and pushing it somewhere between the cluster of paperwork splayed out on my side of the rental desk - just some safety forms for a new shipment of skates, nothing too important.

i try to spin in my chair, gazing up at the endless tundra of white tiles when something becomes jammed and i jolt forward comedically. grumbling, i push the chair aside altogether, choosing to lean menacingly over the wood already scraped and chipped by the endless pairs of ice skates that pass over it. i trace over a missing chunk with my index finger, debating whether i would like a customer to appear to give me something to do or whether i would rather avoid the social interaction completely.

i'm startled again by an explosion of voices and footsteps pounding on the carpet hallway leading to the locker room. a family? some kids looking for something to fill the time? whatever it is, it's just another problem to add to my list.

they come at me all at once, a flurry of puffer coats and rosy cheeks. they're breathing hard as they stare at me with a gaze that's intense but hard to place. instinctively, i take a step back as the tallest one of the group steps forward.

"hi! uhm... five...pairs of skates please!" he barely manages to get the words out, his tousled fringe sweeping over his eyes with every heave of oxygen. it's obvious they seem to be in a rush: i almost ask why they're all panting like dogs and then i remember that i don't care.

"sure. sizes?"

the boy looks panicked and mildly annoyed. does he know his own shoe size?

"...five."

i can't hold back the icy arch of my brow. judging by the height of this guys, there's no way he's a size five. and the fact that all his friends are the same size as him? a chill goes up my spine immediately.

"...sure," i mumble, heading to the infinite racks to look for five pairs of size five skates. shaking off the feeling that i should call someone and report them, i lug the skates to the desk, two pairs at a time.

"that's all of them. enjoy your skate," i say monotonously as i hand a boy with purple hair and trembling hands the last pair. they don't seem to hear me as they burst through the doors of the locker room, their hurried chatter fading into quiet once again.

exactly one minute and 30 seconds pass before i get up and slink out of the 'employees only' door to my right, locking it behind me. judging by the rate of customers we've had today, i doubt anyone will be needing me any time soon.

and that fiery-tempered oaf should be clocking in sometime soon anyway...

the locker room is unnervingly silent too; nothing seems out of the ordinary as i expect people come to an ice rink to ice skate, not hang out in the locker room. however i barely reach the double doors leading out into the dim ice rink when i stumble and lash out to grab onto a nearby coat hook to stop myself from eating a mouthful of carpet.

as i dust down my uniform i look at the cause of my fall: an abandoned pile of skates, now dishevelled from my disruption, pitifully slumped in the middle of the walkway.

now incredibly aware of the bizarre behaviour of the boys from before and filled with the need to satiate the curiosity growing within me i venture towards the ice rink, remembering to keep a low profile.

the reinforced wood of the double doors does nothing to muffle the shouts and groans of pain i hear on the other side of it; overcome with the thick treacle of dread, time slows as i creep through one of the doors and dive into the nearest row of seats as i watch in horror at the scene unfolding before me, too petrified to do anything else.