stinkwrinkles
Voices were vacant from the hall. Paint peeled off the walls, the horrible beige school color that demoted creativity. Condensation ran down the walls, giving the space a clammy feel. It was hot out that day, but the inside of the deserted building was still being air conditioned even though it was scheduled for demolition in less than a week.
A scream pierced the humidity.
The girl whirled her head around, her arm jerked up as if to pull herself up, but just as quickly fell back, restrained by a handcuff on the end of a short metal chain.