“Why here? This is level three, pretty low on the hierarchy,” Lillian replied.
“Exactly, no one would think anything of the work here,” I said. She paused to consider my words before returning to her original pace. I took that as her agreeing with my theory. She led me down another street and I came face to face to the wall. She continued walking but I stopped and headed towards the wall, reaching out to touch it. The once see-through and smooth material was covered by dirt and dust. I squinted at the gaps and again saw the ruins from before.
“Do you think the wall is the reason why the sun didn't effect you?” Lillian asked, inturrupting my thoughts.
“The sun doesn't effect me, a newly-turned maybe. Though I admit I haven't felt too warm or uncomfortable under the sun. So it's possible it has some kind of protective effect. Why do you ask?”
“Was just curious,” she said with a shrug. Her auburn curls lifting and falling with her shoulders. Without thinking I reached over and fixed a stray strand behind her ear.
“What are you doing?” she asked and I froze. What was I doing?
“We should hurry,” I said, turning away and starting to walk. She soon took over and continued to lead the way. I couldn't help but notice the slight red covering her cheeks. Must be all the drama and walking of the day.
“We're here,” Lillian said, leading me up cobblestone steps and into a building made of faded brick. Inside was a dingy lobby, empty of life. She walked through corridors as if she knew the area.
“I used to come to work with mum all the time when I was little. Then school started and I stopped being able to see her,” Lillian explained, seeing my curious expression.
“Ah,” I said, trying to ignore the strong smell of damp that seemed to rule these hallways. On second thoughts maybe it wasn't here-
“Here's the lab mum works in,” Lillian said, punching a few numbered buttons on a pade by a big metal door. Inside my worrying assumption was proved wrong.
“Nothing like the corridors, right? Don't ask me to explain how every device works, I can't remember too well myself. Mums computer is over her, I might be able to figure out her password so we can see her notes,” Lillian said, walking towards a thin black thing. She pressed the bottom corner and it lit up. I jumped back and eyed it suspiciously.
“It's just a computer. This, and any other computer is linked to the system. It's how we can use our ID cards. Usually though, people on the lower levels don't use them, except to claim benefits and such,” she explained as she entered in a string of letters onto a pad to the side of the black rectangle. They were denied.
“I guessed she would've changed her password since I was a kid,” she muttered. She tapped a something below the bar the letters had appeared and a word appeared.
“The Secret,” Lillian said the words and scrunched up her face, thinking hard.
“Maybe she knew she was a witch too?” I suggested. She contemplated my words and then entered “witch” in, denied.
“I have two more tries...” she muttered. I couldn't think of another suggestion and said as much. Lillian let out a groan and turned to scan the instruments. She reached over and brushed a finger over each. Noted the ones that had gathered dusts and the one that had been used lots. She returned to the strange computer and entered in a new word. The computer made a small beep noise and the screen changed.
“Why blood?” I asked.
“The machine that analyses the make-up of blood and other living cells was used a lot. And with the demons and witches, I figured it might be that,” Lillian explained. I glanced at the thing she'd pointed out and felt somewhat helpless, I really knew nothing about this world and its devices. She scanned the files and pictures, reading and understanding strange symbols I couldn't get.
“Wait...the chemical calculations and all these keynotes...my mum was...” she trailed off, eyes wide.
“What was she doing?” I pushed. She turned her gaze to me and shook her head.
“She was trying to create an artificial substance that would have the same features found commonly in blood. Why would the witches want fake blood?” she asked. My lips formed a grim line as the pieces started to fall together.
“So they can wake up the demons and use them as a controlling force,” I said bitterly.