“Come.” The elevator door opens in front of you, you step out, the door closes quickly and your companion descends. The shaft closes behind them, leaving you stranded up here. You take a deep breath and focus your consciousness. Now it is a matter of survival to do so. You take it all in at once: the vastness of the domed space, the great height, the depth, the glass wall surrounding the room, the bright sunlight flooding in, a huge water tank, and the large, dark silhouette of a shark inside it, swimming in circles. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” The well-known voice came from behind you. “It is… breathtaking.” You answer, but you don’t turn around. You stay still, waiting. They start walking towards the glass wall, slowly, in silence, and you follow them with your eyes. Once near the window, they start talking again. “It was just finished. Five days ago.” They put their right hand on the glass as if caressing the view outside. “We can see the whole City from here. Well, we could from the other accommodation too. But this is much more magnificent, more suited for someone of our status. Don’t you agree?” they ask. “Indeed, it is more suited.” “Well, don’t just stand there. Come see the view.” You answer the request and approach the window. It is, indeed, amazing. You should probably watch the City, but instead, you gaze at the blue sky and the white clouds rolling over from above the sea. They notice and smile, then turn around and wave their left hand through the air. The western glass wall begins to move sideways, and you hold your breath. You can almost smell the sea, hear the waves crashing against the rocks, and the seagulls shrieking. Your body tingles with excitement, but you stay still. “Come,” they tell you and start moving towards the open part of the room. You both stop a few feet away from the edge, side by side, battered by the wind, burnt by the sun, your senses intoxicated, unwilling to believe that you are out. Outside. In plain air. You are drunk with pleasure. You wish you were a bird and just flap your wings and fly away. Far away. “Do you like this?” they ask you. “Yes.” And as you answer, your heartbeat rises, and you tingle again. “No one else has an opening window,” they tell you, and you know it is true. Opening windows are dangerous. You can’t trust people around them; they just have a tendency to use them as doors and fall to their deaths. A really stupid thing to do for such smart people. But there are all different kinds of smarts. “You don’t feel the urge to walk over the edge, do you?” They ask you, and you turn and look them in the eyes. “No. Not when we are together.” They smile, satisfied. And you’re almost convinced that you’re telling the truth. “Come,” they tell you, and you follow again, and as you move away from the edge, the window starts closing back. Your stomach shrinks a little, and a part of you wishes to run back and jump to its death. You ignore it and smile. They wave their hands again, and the room transforms. The glass turns dark gray, and the fish tank sinks into the floor. Little lights start twinkling like stars all around you, and pots with lush vegetation rise from the floor. In the middle of all that, there is a basin filled with steaming, bubbling water, exuding an inebriating floral perfume. They undress and get into the water. You follow, letting your robe fall on the floor. And as they see you naked, their pupils still dilate like the very first time they saw you. They look you in the eyes with pleasure and desire, and you are both aroused and terrified. Hands start fumbling, mouths start sucking, teeth are nibbling, and amid all the erotica, you get pushed under the water, fingers clenched around your neck. You grab their arms in a parody attempt of pulling yourself above the surface, of putting up a fight for your life. It’s all for the show, you have given up defending yourself a long time ago. Instead, you just step out of reality for a while. Drowning is not really fun, so you get out on the staircase until you die again.
