Paige's Club.

After the customers were gone and Paige's workers had dismissed for the night, she locked the bar entrance door, slid the glass closed, and walked down to the passage leading to the washroom where she stood in front of a large mirror on the wall to gaze at herself as usual.

She was a young, gorgeous, tall, and slim lady in her late twenties. Obsessed with her dazzling green eyes coated with massive lashes, thick arched brows coupled with a pointed nose, and thin red lips, she smiled in satisfaction at how stunning she looked. She unclipped her hair and it cascaded alluringly to her waist.

She heaved a sigh of distress as she viewed the thin lines that rested between her brows. Today was damned hectic and had been a very long day for her.

Still gazing at her reflection in the mirror, the thought of taking a shower crossed her mind but as the weather was cold, she immediately crossed the thought out of her mind. In her light

short sleeveless gown, cold struck her hard as the breeze blew from one of the open windows causing goosebumps on her skin and she shuddered.

She quickly grabbed the parcel of cigarettes that lay close to the faucet in front of her, pulled a stick, thudded the parcel, and grabbed the lighter. Blowing open the window, the cold wind blasted in like a dancing samba and knocked out the flame she wanted to use to lighten the cigarette.

F*ck!

The more attempts she made to lighten the cigarette, the wilder the wind blew into the passage. Feeling paranoid and craving to smoke, she tossed back the cigarette and lighter on the faucet.

Damn!

She felt her whole organs longing to smoke. Gosh! She needed the damn thing! She glared at the cigarette.

Sighing, she gave up and was about to retire to bed when she heard a strange sound coming from behind her. Her eyes flickered as she turned back, in search of whatever it was she heard.

But as she was listening, she was only hearing rustlings, whistles of the wind, and the swinging window.

Once the drizzling and whistling wind had ceased, the place became as quiet as a graveyard. She considered this dusk; downbeat and weird, and for reasons she couldn't articulate she had a pretty negative vibe about tonight. She had the feeling she wasn't alone. The place was thick and unusual.

But who could it be?

All her workers were gone and there was no one else in the club so the chances of having someone else here with her were very low.

Not that she didn't have a home, but as a single lady who didn't owe anyone her attention, she often spent some nights at the club.

However, she'd never felt so nervous until now. Maybe she had drunk so much liquor and needed to rest. Maybe she was intoxicated, she thought.

The sound of footsteps intruded on her thoughts again then she veered around instantly. She was damned sure of hearing that footstep. Her heartbeat accelerated and was romping violently in her chest. Then she lifted her gaze to the wobbling curtain.

The wind was blasting colder and stronger and the continual twirling of the transparent curtain ignited more fear in her while the window swung back and forth with a long creak.

Due to this chaos, she couldn't hear the footsteps anymore even though she was trying her hardest to pay attention.

Since she didn't hear the footsteps anymore, she assumed that it was just imagination or the fact that she was having a bad night as she was stressed.

Soon she heard something crashing against the wall like a tumbler or glass. She fidgeted and leaped to her feet upon hearing the sound. The dread in her eyes was very visible and her voice quivered as she spoke. "Who is it?"

In response, what she heard was the showers and thunderstorms from outside. It was now raining.

Although startled, she laid an expectant gaze on the curtain as she grasped a small gun from the top of her bedside table.

Her hands were trembling as she slowly raised the gun and pointed it at the curtain. She swallowed very hard, summoning great courage as she took a step forward.

Her heart slammed against her chest gingerly and she wasn't sure her feet could carry her body for long as she felt it weaken from beneath her.

Arriving a few steps away from the curtain, she stopped, contemplating if to proceed when she suddenly heard another glass crashing and hasty footsteps approaching.

At this point, her heart felt like it was going to swoop out of her mouth. She could hear her heartbeat thumping right inside her eardrums.

Overwhelmed by fear, Paige fidgeted so much that the gun flew out of her hand upon hearing a thunderbolt.

Once she had recovered from the shock, the first thing she felt was a very terrible headache in her left forehead.

"Who the hell are you?" She let out a shout in terror. "Show your freaking self, you asshole!"

Still, nobody responded and as she lifted her head, she saw a figure behind the cream-looking curtain but when the wind twirled the curtain she saw that there was no one.

Due to the pain at the left corner of her forehead, Paige was having difficulties standing as she bent, crawling to where her gun lay.

As she approached the spot where it was, she was about to grab it when she caught a glimpse of a figure running past the room where she was.

Was it real? She wasn't the only one in here!

The curiosity restored her energy somehow and she was now having a mixed feeling of fear and energy. She clasped the gun so hard that her wrist began to hurt.

Stepping out of her room into the corridor, she trembled and her breathing became unsteady as she kept pointing the gun into the air.

Suddenly, she heard many more tumblers crashing against the floor behind her. "Who are you?" Whirling, she said breathlessly.

She had always loved the glittering red illumination in her bar but she felt the red light wasn't helping at the moment because it was blocking her sight and preventing her from seeing whoever it was who was trespassing in her club.

However, before she could make any other move, a strong hand grasped her right shoulder such that it hurt bitterly and unfortunately before she could pull the trigger, the gun was violently pulled from her trembling hands.

****