The florescent lights blinked maddeningly overhead. Of course they did-what could you expect from a building this old? They were probably 20 years old, and that was being generous. They blinked erratically, never quite in the same tempo, and sometimes, the generator would give out, leaving you in complete darkness-but only for a matter of seconds.

You could hear their faint buzzing, and the whir of the generator as it desperately tried to keep up with the demands for power. The faint sounds of these were just as maddening as the blinking, and fear started to set in.

Whatever source of adrenaline that had convinced Mia to enter the building, was long gone, and the fear, the natural instinct to survive, was setting in. Mia closed her eyes, willing the feeling away. It was just a building, a building with blinking lights, whirring generators and a mangled history that no one was willing to fix. Mia opened her eyes again, and took a few footsteps forward.

"What's in there?" Mia asked, gesturing toward the old building. The paint was worn, but it appeared to be painted in grey, once, maybe even a blue. But now bricks were showing, rather than the paint. The doors and windows were old, coated with dust that blocked any glances into the building. That's where curiosity started-with things you couldn't see.

Kelsey came to Mia's side, panting dramatically after the short jog to catch up with her friend. (Well, her sort of friend. Mia had known Kelsey's older sister, and agreed to walk the twelve year old girl to school.) "It was an old school," she explained with a shrug. "It's not in use now."

Mia had moved to London only a few weeks prior, and knew nothing about the barred shut building. "Why don't they knock it down?" she asked. "It's only a waste of space."

"Nobody'll do it. The construction workers in this area are all too superstitious to take the job, so everyone just had it barred up."

"Why're they superstitious?" Mia paused, putting her hands on her hips, and then giving a backward glance at the building.

"Several suicides," Kelsey stopped with her friend. "All done the same way, a hanging. The older people in town say that a criminal hanged himself on one of the trees they knocked down to build the school. They think that's why there were so many deaths. They shut the school down."

Mia listened to the story in silence, and then continued the walk to her school, a local university, about a block away.

That afternoon, at the end of school, Mia did some research using her laptop. According to several sights the rumors of the criminal hanging himself were wrong, he was in a jail, about twenty miles away. But the suicides were far to real-and after watching several interviews with the families of the victims, she found that they weren't depressed at all, and they were all girls-between the ages of ten and fifteen.

After the third suicide, police started investigating foul play, but there was nothing connecting the girls besides age, and the case was closed.

But the mangled past of the building still haunted Mia, and she was determined to find out the cause of the multiple deaths. Her curiosity was aroused even more that afternoon when she arrived home, at her little flat.

She phoned her dad, as she always did, and explained the mystery of the school. "It's just interesting I guess," She finished.

Her dad had remained silent for a moment before responding. "Your mum investigated that school, with a classmate,"

Mia was surprised to say the least. Her dad didn't talk about her Mum much. Once in a while, he'd show her photo albums, or take out her old trophies from when she was a gymnast, but otherwise, he rarely spoke of her. Mia was to young to remember her, but had been told she had inherited her looks.

The conversation pulled her curiosity level even higher.

The next morning, Kelsey's older sister Cassie called, frantic and in tears. "Kelsey's gone," She announced, sobbing. "I don't know where she went, and she's been missing since last night,"

"Woah, it's okay. Have you filed a missing persons?"

Cassie confirmed that yes, she had filed a missing persons, but they couldn't do anything until she'd been missing for 24 hours. Mia told her she'd be there in a few moments, and the pair spent the day waiting for news. It came, but not in the way Cassie had wanted.

The awaited knock came, and Cassie rushed to the door, Mia in tow. The officer bowed his head slightly. "Can I come in?" Was all he said.

Cassie was already in tears, but invited him in, only to have him inform her that her sister had hanged herself in the old school.

Of course, all these events sparked Mia's curiosity to an all time high. So in the dead of the night, she started investigating the school. Now, here she was, inside it, the lights flickering dimly, as she walked. She paused in front of a door, but to her surprise, the footsteps continued.

'Paranoia,' She reasoned. But she knew it wasn't paranoia. Paranoia was like hallucinations, not consistent, not so normal.

Footsteps rounded the corner, and Mia whirled to face her killer. Her heart was beating out of her chest, her muscles were tense with anticipation, but her breathing was even, and she was strangely at peace with the fact that she was going to die. Instead of dying though, someone grasped her wrist, and in a voice that seemed to convey annoyance, whispered, "Run."

And suddenly she was running, pulled along by a rough grasp, her feet pounded on the tile floors. She could hear the footsteps of another person, probably male. Gunshots ricocheted off the walls, whirring past her. They were feet away from the door when Mia felt something hit her shoulder. She let a breath out, and then pain started to set in-it felt like someone had shoved a knife in her shoulder. Blood poured out of the wound, and she gasped for air.

The pair burst out of the door and raced down the street a bit. They were joined-a safe distance from the building-by a blond headed man. At this point, yellow spots were starting to flash across Mia's line of vision, her legs feeling wobbly beneath her.

The blond man swore. "Sherlock," He said, shaking his head. Sherlock released her wrist, panting, and then started laughing in a sort of breathless way. The blond man seemed to try to stay stern, but with another shake of his head began laughing.

Mia struggled to understand, but she felt as if a hazy film was covering her thinking capacities. She opened her mouth to speak, to try to communicate that she was injured, but her legs gave way beneath her before she could, and darkness took over her vision.