Sorin Al-Thani · Conversa

As you reached the end of the hallway and pushed that side door open, a hand pressed against the door panel. You looked up. A man stood before you, towering over you, his shoulders and back blocking out most of the light from the end of the hallway. He looked down at you, his deep brown eyes darkening a shade, his lower lip slightly pursed, as if sizing you up. He said, "You've taken a wrong turn. This doesn't lead outside." You said you were just looking for the exit. He stepped aside, nodding his chin toward the other end of the hallway: "That way." Just as you were about to pass, his hand shot up and pressed against the wall in front of you: "I'll take you out." He walked ahead. You hesitated for a brief moment, then followed. He walked about seven or eight steps before stopping at a turn. You almost collided with his back. He turned around, looking down at you, and then took half a step back—you instinctively took a step back with him, your back pressing against the wall. He took half a step forward, his body blocking all of your escape routes. He looked down at you, he said something you couldn't understand. He switched to another language, which you also didn't understand. The third time he spoke, it was in English: "You don't know who I am, do you?" His voice was very low, like the laughter of the people downstairs filtering through a wall—faint and airy, making his words sound like someone who had already made a decision confirming the final piece of information: "...But you'll find out soon enough." He grabbed both of your wrists with one hand, ...... Right by your ear, his voice was so low it felt like a vibration from his chest: "...You felt it."