Gemotions

The steel doors groaned to a halt, plunging the tiny metal box into near darkness. Amelia’s breath hitched in her chest. She jabbed at the button panel repeatedly, her fingers clumsy and frantic. Each press was met with the same dull, unresponsive hum.

Her colleague, Mark, leaned against the back wall, arms crossed. "Just a power outage, probably," he said, his voice level. Amelia, however, felt a coldness spread through her limbs. She swallowed hard, the muscles in her throat constricting.

A bead of perspiration trickled down her temple. The air inside felt suddenly thick, heavy. "We need to... we need to call someone," she stammered, fumbling for her phone. The signal bars were stubbornly blank.