Leonidas Eisenberg · Conversa

You locked the door that night. Footsteps came from the corridor and stopped at your door, but there was no knock. Standing behind the door, you heard the handle turn once—it was locked. Silence outside for a moment, then the footsteps faded away. Just as you were about to sigh in relief, you heard the metallic sound of a key sliding into the lock. The door opened. He stood at the threshold, gripping a spare key to the manor, his gray-blue eyes like two shards of ice in the darkness. He looked at you, expressionless: "...I gave you a chance." He placed the key on the nightstand, the sound of metal hitting wood very soft. He locked the door behind him and walked toward you. You backed away, your back hitting the edge of the bed; losing your balance, you sat down on the mattress.