Lillia bolted. The door screamed, creaking to a close. She flung her right hand into the small gap, her fingers stretched as far as possible. Pain shot through her arm, the door pressed harder, determined to shut. Lillia tried to grip the other side with her fingers, but they were locked in place, trapped between the door and its frame. Her eyes watered. Lillia bit down on her lip, ignoring the scorching sting, blocking out the angry protest of the secretary. She spun on her feet, used her palm to push at the heavy wooden slab and, distributing the weight through her entire body, heaved the door back open. 

It budged a crack, relief washed over Lillia, the intense pressure removed from her hand. She gripped the door, and added her free hand for extra strength. The secretary leapt to his feet, approaching angrily. Lillia tilted her head and smiled at him, then forced the door open just enough to slip through. She fell to the floor, panting. A glance at her previously trapped hand revealed no serious damage, just a nasty, deep red line at the base of her fingers.

“Fuck,” she heaved.

The door slammed with a definitive thud. The gears turned, a mechanical satisfying click followed, along with another hiss of steam. Lillia got to her feet, still grasping her right hand. She acknowledged the security of the door. Obviously, it was designed to keep people out. And at that, it was very effective.

A defeated pounding came from the door, followed by a meagre voice. “You know what, I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

Lillia hoped that meant he wouldn’t chase after her, though it would be best if she didn’t stick around to find out. She shook the last drop of pain from her hand and rushed down the corridor.

Stairs. She was looking for stairs. The secretary hadn’t been completely useless, he’d revealed the general area the mayor would be in. Up. One problem, the hallway continued on for what seemed like forever, and not a single stair was in sight. Or, even a ladder, anything really. The corridor was completely empty, only housing double doors on either side, equally spaced apart. Luckily, none of these doors looked mechanical, they were normal doors. Lillia came to a halt. She’d already passed a couple doors, and ahead there were six, three on either side. Up laid beyond one of them, so Lillia devised a genius plan.

She kicked open the door to her right. The force swung the doors wildly, and they immediately rebounded and slammed shut. Though insulted, Lillia only saw more corridors behind them. She moved on. Bang. Nope. Smack. Also no — though she noted the location of the kitchen in case she wanted a snack on the way out. Eventually she reached the very end of the hallway.

“I swear to god if it’s one of the ones I ran past,” she muttered to herself, “I am not going to be happy.”

Lillia kicked the door open, gently this time, already assuming she’d passed the door to the stairs. Oh no. What if it was at the end of the other corridor she saw? Lillia cursed herself for bringing that possibility up. She couldn’t try every door in the building, for all she knew the police could be on their way. Trespassing is a crime, correct? The door slowly petered open. What a lovely sight. Lillia sighed as the stairs finally revealed themselves, though she didn’t waste anymore time. The stairs were as grand as the rest of the house. Each step, her pace quickened. Each step, her heart rate rose. At the top of the stairs, another hallway — a meaningless hallway. As right in front of her eyes, a door, and next to it a plaque.

MAYOR’S OFFICE.

She took a deep breath. It was time. Her legs grew stiff, her heartbeat thumped in her ears. It had proved trickier to reach than she expected, but here she was, a door away from the man ready to take everything from her sister. Lillia opened the door.

“So I take it that it is you that was causing all the commotion downstairs?”

Lillia froze.

Not a single moment passed since the door swung open and the sharp voice spoke.  Silence followed, only interrupted by the flapping of a curtain. The gritty outside air smacked Lillia in the stomach and the deadly voice held a knife to her throat. She did not dare move.

The origin of the voice, a slender well dressed man, stood, leaning over his desk. He pushed his glasses up, smiling contently. An uncanny face. Lillia averted her eyes. She shouldn’t perceive him. Her mind winced in agony at just a glimpse, and when focusing on a certain part … no. She couldn’t do it. The man’s smile stretched from one cheekbone to the other, displaying ghastly white teeth. His eyes were large, magnified by his round bronze glasses. His skin … Lillia blinked his image away.

He cracked his knuckles on the desk. “You seem … unsettled. What is the matter, my dear?”

Lillia remained silent, focusing on the desk, focusing on a pile of letters on the right. A letter opener, understandably, laid next to them. She moved an eye to his hand. Yeah, that skin, thin and stretched… It looked … mouldy, stained — if that’s even possible.

“Come now,” he chuckled, “be not afraid! You’ve gone through all this to come see me, have you not?”

 She gritted her teeth. Don’t forget why you are here… This is no time to cower in disgust or fear, show any weakness and he will take advantage of that. Lillia steeled her nerves, channelling her disgust into anger. She burned any plan of acting nice, of understanding or compromise. This man, he wasn’t human, he would not provide her with any respect, so why should she?

Lillia took a single step forward.

“My sister,” she growled, “I came here to get the money that’s rightfully hers.”

“Ah…” the mayor raised his hands dramatically, then slid into his seat. He retrieved a letter off the pile, delicately flipped the letter opener into his hand, and meticulously sliced the envelope open. “Rightfully hers…” he unfolded the contents of the envelope, scanning the page, then screwed it up and chucked it in a bin. “That’s debatable.”

Lillia stormed forward. “It is not—”

“Uh uh ah!” He gestured to the door. “It’s awfully cold out there, be a dear and shut the door.”

She screwed up her brow. “No.”

“Shut the door.”

Lillia didn’t flinch. She moved towards his desk and took a seat.

“Ha!” the mayor chuckled, “being difficult, are we?”

He took to his feet and purposely slammed the door shut. “Sorry, I forgot you probably don’t have doors in your house.” He laughed again, slouching back into his chair. “Not very open minded of me now was it?”

The mayor returned to his letters. Lillia swallowed a flush of rage, refusing to act irrationally. That’s exactly what the mayor wants. She was right, he is not at all human, waving her suffering in her face and laughing about it. Don’t lash out. She told herself. Remain calm. Lillia inhaled, counting to eight. One. Two. Three. She closed her eyes. Four. Five. Six—she exhaled, her breathing becoming rapid. No. Again. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. The sound of the blade carving through paper, tearing the joints of the envelope. Six. Lillia imagined that sound, but instead of an envelope, it was the mayor's neck. Seven. How quickly would that smile fade? Eight.

She exhaled and opened her eyes.

“I am here for my sister’s—Thalia Ernalin’s pre-parent payment or whatever it is called.” The mayor paid her no attention. She slammed her fist on the desk. “Give it to me and I will leave. It is that simple.”

The letter opener jolted, tearing down into the envelope. The mayor paused. He placed the blade on the desk, and neatly positioned the torn envelope next to it.

“A tear.” He glared up at Lillia, his smile dropping. A bony finger tapped slowly on the envelope. “Every time, I manage a clean, uninterrupted cut. A perfect and efficient slice. This … this is far from perfect! It’s a disgrace!”

The mayor stood, slowly pacing around the desk. He placed a loose hand on Lillia’s shoulder. A freezing cold penetrated the fabric of her top and sent shivers through her bones. Her heart pounded. The mayor lingered behind her. She froze. He leant down, placing his mouth at Lillia’s ear. 

“And that is exactly what you are. An utter disgrace.” He forced more weight onto her shoulder, and gripped her arm with his free hand, his fingers wrapped around her flesh like snakes. Lillia couldn’t move. Her heart screamed, her bones shook. She squirmed. It was no use. The mayor had her. “Everyone in this wretched town.”

“You think you deserve things just because. None of you are ever satisfied,” the mayor continued, his voice grating against Lillia’s mind. “It’s always: give me this! Or what about this! And apparently, it would be easy! Ha!”

He chuckled, removing his hands from Lillia’s body. Her lip quivered in fear. She couldn’t move. Her legs refused to stand, her eyes stuck in a widened state. She let out shallow, rapid breaths, her heart an endless stampede. B-breathe. Breathe. Count t-to eight again. One. The mayor brought his hand down on the back of her chair, forcefully tipping it backwards. Gravity finished off the job. Lillia’s vision spun. She smacked her head on the floor, the impact ringing in her ears.