Chloe woke up under the covers of a bed. She assumed it was hers, but she couldn’t remember. It was cold, and Chloe was not interested in exiting the warmth of her blankets. She squirmed a bit and lay there, quiet.
“Mmm…” Chloe’s voice was soft and feminine. She coughed a couple times, wondering
She stayed under the sheets and looked around. The room was small, room enough for the bed and not much else. It reminded her of a bathroom, it was so small. The wallpaper was grayed and peeling, the ceiling light covered in ash and dust. On the bedside table was a small box with lights on it; numbers.
Chloe reached out from under the covers and grabbed the box. She realized for the first time she was naked. Naked, and in a place she didn’t recognize. The box was attached to the wall by some sort of rope. She pushed the buttons on the top, and noise started coming out of it. A hissing buzz. Chloe turned the knob on the front, and heard a voice.
“Revenge. The club has a reputation for being rowdy, but this is the first time that the city guard has been involved. Seven people were arrested, most of them naked. We don’t know what happened for sure, but the top floor of the building is completely missing. Anyone who has information is welcome to call us. Ask the operator for Sill With Press Radio News, or SWPRN for short.”
Night Revenge. That was the club that Chloe was at last night. She sighed, shuddering. She looked around the room for her clothes and found nothing.
She looked under the covers and realized she wasn’t alone. There were two more people in the bed with her, curled around each other, also nude.
She didn’t recognize either the man or the woman. Somehow she found comfort in this.
“…Urgent update. The Lussa Queen herself witnessed the top of the building become blackened, and shortly after phase away. She claims that someone stole it for their own purposes. The club owner is in critical condition. He told us that there would be no reason to steal his building, and that he blames the quote “damned capitalists.” We are currently looking for the managers, Riley and Toura.”
Chloe stood up slowly, hoping that she wouldn’t be missed. She went outside of the dank room and looked for her clothes. The living space was cramped, an old couch and a square coffee table took up most of the space. Left was a door to the kitchen and right was the washroom. She headed right, hoping that there was laundry in there.
She was disappointed. The toilet seat cover was shattered, on the ground. Chloe took this opportunity to empty her bladder. She stood to flush, noting the bright colour of her urine.
“Mmm, must be the energy drinks.”
On the ground was the woman’s clothes. Chloe put them on. They were small around the bust, but too big everywhere else. Chloe sighed, pushing her blonde hair away from her eyes. She emptied the pockets. A hand torch, flint, a residence identification card…
“Toura Witchat. What a stupid name.”
She left the apartment, and started down the hall, then stopped. Toura, Toura the manager. Chloe walked back to the room and made herself some tea, waiting for the two to wake up. She took the Broadcaster Box out into the living space, as far as the cord would reach, and set it on the table. She wasn’t in a rush, and wanted any information on what happened in the club for her own reasons.
She sat back, letting the brown couch swallow her slowly. When it was done, she took her tea and sipped. She sighed, closing her eyes and listening to the voice from the small box. She listened for hours. She listened for answers.