Glass Building
The Cactus Metaphor
"Sorry," I mumbled to the man sitting directly across from me. Man, this room was getting bright. Well, at least I think it was. I couldn't be sure- the drug seemed to be working its way up to my head by now. "Please excuse me." I pushed my chair back and dashed out of the thirtieth story Sao Bistro restaurant just as a fuzzy feeling started to wash over my body. I couldn't see where I was going, but I faintly recalled the elevator to be in this direction. The drug was biting it's way closer to the target. Clutching my chest in a heaving effort to mitigate the pain, I crashed my palm against a glowing arrow pointing down. A ding was heard, and the elevator doors finally slid open. I stumbled in, tripped at the last minute, and landed cheek down on the ground. Anyone who stepped in behind me would've been met with the unpleasant scene of a girl, who they'd assume was hungover, wriggling desperately to cease the poison killing her body.
The elevator doors slid shut behind me, and had to I will myself not to scream in agony. That surely would give away the mission. All I could make out right now were mahogany boards surrounding all four of the walls around me, as if to trap me in this torture chamber for who knows how long. I grit my teeth as sweat beads dotted around my face. "You better follow through with the plan," I muttered, while my body heaved up and down with every pulse of toxin heading towards the heart. "Gah!" I allowed one shrivel of a
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