Elodie Hart;
"Tasting her is like heaven. But Harlow isn't heaven. Nor is she hell; Harlow is the f*cking devil herself, with her sharp intimidation and her cruel way of things, but she tastes nothing like it. She tastes of sweetness and determinati...
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"I'll see you guys later!" I tell Sam, Vera and Elena, as we part our opposite ways. They walk into the kitchen, while I walk down the hall towards the laundry room to retrieve the trolley for my cleaning.
It's only been a few days in the new role of a cleaner, and so far it's working out for me. I'm not around people often and I haven't bumped into other members of the mafia, still asleep in their beds while I'm coming in for housekeeping.
I probably just jinxed that.
As of what I've experienced, the rooms aren't too hard to clean, but the people here really don't make a single drop of effort to even keep them looking acceptable!
In every room I've been in (almost) to clean for these past couple days, there was so much mess. But I'm just going to accept that and say that everyone who works here for this mafia, has no time to clean before they start work.
I reach the laundry room and push the door open, flicking the lights on. Walking in, I grab the second door handle at the next door, that leads me to the trolleys. I take one out and start the usual of stocking it up with cleaning supplies and extra toiletries.
Once my trolley is ready, I take the handle and push it out of the doors of the laundry room. I close the door behind me and start to head to the direction of the lift, when something catches my eye.
Something out of place. Or, it feels like it, when I'm staring at it.
The door to the basement is open.
That's odd. Probably because I've never seen it been opened, nor have I ever seen anyone walk inside. And I don't mean open as in unlocked, but shut, the door is definitely unlocked, but also open, about ten centimetres between the door and the frame.
Was someone down there? Or did someone just leave and forget to close the door?
I leave my trolley by the wall and walk up to the basement door, in order to close the door. It seems distracting.
But as I get closer, through the small gap between the door and the frame, all I see is pitch blackness.
My face follows with an expression of confusion.
Elodie just close the door.
My gut feeling is telling me to just leave it and go about my duties, but the large spot of curiosity in me makes me latch my fingers onto the handle of the door and slowly push it open.
Only a peak.
The door doesn't creak, like it does in those scary, suspense-filled movies. Instead, it pushes open into the room smoothly, making no noise.
Now, I see light. But not much of it. I notice the rocky steps below me, leading down into some kind of underground hallway. Definitely not what I was expecting. A creepy underground basement.
