EXT. THE SOUTH PARK DAILY - EVENING

Kyle stands at the front of the building looking through the grimy glass and into the darkness beyond.

He holds up a hand to knock, but, on a whim, he tries the door.

It opens.

INT. THE SOUTH PARK DAILY - FRONT

Kyle edges through the door, wheeling his carry-on behind him.

The door closes behind him, leaving him in the gloomy darkness of a business long past its prime.

KYLE: Hello?

INT. THE SOUTH PARK DAILY - MAIN FLOOR

He moves past the empty desks, the wheels of his bag skittering on the various debris that litters the floor.

A RUSTLING further in the back causes him to stop.

He heads forward again, a little slower.

INT. THE SOUTH PARK DAILY - ARCHIVE ROOM

Rows of shelves fill the dark room.

Kyle walks the rows, peering down them - he heads down a row.

A box flies off the shelf at him!

He jumps back as it hits the floor!

He looks up in time to see a flash of what looks like an orange parka in the row next to him.

KYLE: I'm not playing fucking games here!

Kyle moves quickly back down the row, then heads along the bookshelves, looking down row after row.

He's barely catching a glimpse of the orange parka on the other end, also running past row after row.

Then he catches a glimpse of it going the other way.

He spins around and - BAM!

Kyle slams hard into somebody -

KYLE: Oh shit!