Work Text:
A familiar place could become so foreign in the dark. Nathalie had walked the halls of her workplace many times, head buried in her tablet, but somehow it was a whole other beast to navigate in pitch blackness. She reached blindly in front of her, walking her fingers along the wall and hoping she would continue to feel wall only, no surprises.
Moonlight snuck in through a window to aid her ever so slightly. She jolted and nearly screamed as a figure materialized in front of her, but luckily the light caught his glasses and illuminated his features enough for her to realize he was the very man she was looking for.
“Nathalie,” he said, having heard her gasp.
“Shhh!” she hissed emphatically, clapping her hand across his mouth to silence him. A small muffled protest eked out of him as she forced him across the remaining length of the room and under her desk.
“Nathalie,” he repeated in a tone much more clipped than before, “what is the meaning of this? I thought you were going to fix the lights.”
“Keep your voice down.” She stopped, straining for a moment to pick out any other noises in the house. Only fragile silence met her. “I tried,” she whispered. “But I got down there, and… Emilie…” Her growing horror cut her sentence short. The words escaped her.
Gabriel’s features, as dimly lit as they were, clearly showed guilt. “I’m sorry. I will deal with it soon, I promise.” He took her hand, enclosing it in his own. “I chose you, Nathalie. You don’t have to worry about Emilie. I’ll make arrangements as soon as possible.”
Impatience and urgency snapped her out of her stupor. "Gabriel. You don't get it. She's not in her coffin."
He let out an incredulous scoff. “Nathalie.” His grip around her hand tightened as she trembled. “You’re serious?”
“I’m not easily spooked. I know what I saw. It runs on a different power supply, and the inside was still lit. It was empty.”
Gabriel remained silent, hanging onto her words and squeezing her hand even a little bit tighter.
“I know it sounds…” She trailed off and shook her head. He would know what she meant anyway. “I don’t know how, but it’s her. She turned off the lights, and she—”
The doorknob jiggled. The door creaked open. For a moment, only a pressing quiet was present, but soon, the click of heels rang out like the swings of a hammer.
“Gabriel…” Emilie called. Her voice was rougher than Nathalie remembered, but it still held that singsong quality that was unique to her. Soundless tears dampened Nathalie’s cheeks, and she didn’t dare to breathe.
The steps stopped in front of her desk.
“There you are.” Nathalie’s blood ran cold. “You aren’t giving up on me, are you, my little dove?”