It was chilly outside, for a person unprepared for it. Leo was dressed in only his hand me down pajamas, the ones that would have been red ten years ago, and were not more of a light rust than anything else, with patches of various colors, for when he'd ripped them in places. They were old, worn, but still quite warm despite everything. That did help, but Leo cursed at himself for not at least bringing a jacket, and rubbed his hands up and down his arms in an attempt to keep himself warm.

It wasn't horribly late yet, if it had been a week day, he likely would have seen students wandering around, going home from night classes, trudging back from the library, or heading off to their parties, but as it happened, Leo didn't see anyone on his little walk. The theater building wasn't far away, and with any luck, Leo would be able to just nip this whole rumor thing in the bud that evening, and retrieve his backpack and book -which he had carelessly abandoned the night before. Thankfully, there likely hadn't been a soul in the theater building since he'd made his hasty retreat the night before, so his things would probably still be there, undisturbed. It was a good thing, he didn't need more damaged or lost library books -the librarian already wanted to ban him.

Leo had anticipated some sort of dread, some climactic realization about himself on that trip, because that was always what happened in movies before shit hit the fan. The main characters would divulge something important about themselves, how the journey had changed them for the better or the worse and there would be a hopeful moment of clarity, before said enlightened character was brutally stabbed to death. Leo had expected that moment of clarity, had likely been building up this whole thing far too much in his head, and when it didn't come, he found himself slightly unnerved by it. In fact, he was to absorbed in his thoughts, that it seemed like one moment he was dashing out of his dorm, and the next time he blinked, he was standing in front of the dark, uninhabited theater building. In the light of day, or even with the inside lights on, the glass doors of the theater building were large and welcoming, but in the darkness, they only looked foreboding, the distant light of a street lamp the only thing giving some indication of what horrors lay inside.

Leo scoffed at himself, he really was watching to many horror films.

It took him a prolonged bit of trial and error to find the right key, cycling through any key that would fit and trying to get it to turn. But Vincent had a lot of keys on the key ring, so it just stood to reason that it would take a while. Of course, Vincent hadn't labeled any of them. Perhaps to spite him, not that it would have done any good in the low light, but it was still an irritating thought that crossed his mind.

Leo did finally find the key that both fit and turned in the lock, and with one aggressive tug, the door was open, and Leo hurried inside. The minute the door suctioned closed behind him, taking the wind and the chill of the night out of the equation, Leo could hear it. It sounded far away, but that made sense if it really was coming from the basement. Said basement was a good distance from where he'd entered the building, so who ever was playing (Elliot Elliot Elliot) was playing much, much louder than the last time Leo had heard it. It was actually odd -a bit unnerving, really- that regardless of the distance, Leo could hear Statice wafting up from below him, from in front of him, leading his way, and like a starving man following the scent of food, Leo had no choice in following the melody.

Even the darkness of the theater building -only interrupted by the occasional dim glow of soda machines- didn't seem to stop him. Leo's feet moved on instinct, somehow knowing exactly where he needed to go to get to that sound, that melody, Elliot's song. And he moved fast, he didn't run, but his pace was hurried, and he honestly couldn't tell if the sweat on his brow was from his fast pace, or how unnerving the song sounded. The night before, it had sounded right, just like Leo had remembered it, lively and beautiful, with just a hint of a faster pace; as he was drawn to it, Leo realized that the song he was hearing, despite being the same, was very different. The song sounded impatient -almost harried- like someone running, but also despondent, and desperate at the same stroke. The best way he could think of it, was that the playing of Statice he'd heard the night before, could easily set a sad but sweet tone in a movie, something that would make you go 'awww'. The version of Staice he was hearing right then, was more of a chase scene, and not the kind where the hero was chasing the bad guy, the kind where the young girl was being chased. The lively candor and life the song had held in his memories seemed long gone to this player, and Leo wondered how it could even be the same person playing, let alone the same song. This Statice sounded wrong, the wrong arrangement, and hurried fingers, and he wondered if he had imagining everything, if he was imagining that this had every been Statice. He hadn't heard it in eight years he could have gotten it wrong, it could have just been very similar.

But really, none of that mattered. Come hell or high water, he was going to find out what was down in that basement. He'd already betrayed Vincent for it, there was no turning back on it now. The voice in his head was screaming at him instead of staying calm and collected, and he couldn't ignore it, had pushed it away to many times.

Before he knew it, he was at the top of the stairs, the long hallway that led down, down, down to that steel door, with a knob that likely hadn't been turned since the Nightrays had decided whatever was down there would stay down there in perpetuity -because Vincent knew, he had to know, if it had been nothing, he wouldn't have hid it.

The song completed, as he took his first step down into the dark stairs of the basement, extending his hand to rest on the cool concrete wall to his right. But it only lasted for a heartbeat, before Statice started again, like someone had clicked the repeat button.

Leo didn't have enough presence to think about placing his feet carefully in front of him. In fact, he was almost amazed at himself when he made it all the way down, without any light, and without stumbling on the steps. He was simply reaching down for the next one when his foot only hit solid ground below him, and he stopped. Leo felt his hands shaking, but he couldn't hear the keys jingling, Statice was to loud, deafening and maddening as it bounced and shrieked around his head. He couldn't see enough to figure out where the knob was, so he had to grope around in the darkness for it, and when he finally did find it, he gripped it firmly in his right hand, and twisted, almost on instinct.

Statice stopped. The whole building was thrust into silence, vociferous silence, and Leo found he couldn't bring himself to even breath. He struggled not to just turn tail and run, the sound of the keys jingling in his shaking hand now the only sound he could hear in the deserted theater building. He wished he just knew which key it was, which key was going to work, because with his shaking, getting any of them in the knob was increasingly difficult, not to mention he was working in the dark.

He'd struggled with several, when one finally fit into the lock. His breathing hitched again, and he told himself there was nothing there, it really was just a ghost, his imagination, anything that he could rationally explain. Leo was reaching to turn the key, when arms draped around his shoulders.

Leo froze, not even able to scream in his distress, when a long finger skirted over his lips, and blond hair tumbled over his shoulders. He felt lips next to his ear, and a soft 'shhhh' flutter into his ear. Then he was being pulled back, up the stairs, and away. He looked over to see Vincent, the low light making him difficult to see, but Leo recognized that one red eye, could see it was not playful or understanding, but seething mad.

They were three steps up, when something on the other side of the door started banging on it. The sudden loss of that horrible silence was only replaced by loud, fervent banging of whatever was on the other side of that door, and without thinking Leo turned right back around, and tried reaching for that key. Something was there, and he had to know what. But he didn't get far, Vincent was much faster than Leo could have anticipated, grabbing his shoulder and almost violently hurtling him back, all to the frantic sound of something wanting out of that basement.

Leo stumbled, and was going to fall when Vincent caught him, and almost effortlessly hoisted Leo over his shoulder. Then they were traveling up again, and there was nothing Leo could do, but watch as he got farther and farther from that door.

Vincent dumped him on the scratched tile of the theater building when they'd reached the first floor, and all Leo could hear was that pounding. He thought he could hear a voice with it too, but it could have been the wind outside, it could have been his own ragged breathing, it could have been anything. The two of them just stayed there. Vincent staring off in front of himself, and Leo unflatteringly seated on the floor, his arms behind to steady himself, and his legs spread out in front of him. They seemed stuck like that, Leo unable to comprehend what exactly was even happening, and Vincent lost in his own thoughts.

Eventually, the banging stopped, but only a split second later, the music started up again, just as maddening, and heartbreaking as before. Leo would have rushed down those stairs again, if he could have brought himself to move, but that still seemed like an impossible feat.

The song did break Vincent out of whatever trance he'd found himself in. He turned away from Leo, retrieved a flashlight from his pocket, and clicked it on. He seemed to be looking around for something, but Leo was to absorbed in the fact that his back was turned, he could probably make it back down those dark stairs and turn that key. Leo shifted his eyes, and he could see the key glistening, the only thing down there that reflected any light back at him. He wondered about Pandora and her box, of how she let out all the horrors of the world. But he also remembered the part of that story that everyone forgot; at the bottom of that box had been hope, you couldn't have one without the other.

Leo had acted on his decision before he'd even realized he'd made it. He scrambled to his feet, Statice urging him on, and bounded down the stairs, two at a time, surprised he didn't lose his footing and tumble down. He heard Vincent shout his name from the top of the stairs, before he could hear the blond's hurried foot falls, but Vincent couldn't stop him now.

He reached the bottom, grasped for the glistening key, turned it, and swung the door open.

To Be Continued...