you continue your slow pace, metal feet ticking against the floor as an unbalanced fan ticks as it spins
the darkness presses harder upon you as you continue down the hall, as you progress further from the light
ambient air around you feels colder, sending minor chills down your spinal strut
every step, every sound, makes you want to shrink away into your plating
you feel as if you're being watched
ahead of you is a staircase marked by the dark void of missed light
approaching the edge of the first step (or perhaps the last?) you catch a brief glint of something
a short flicker of whitish-green light - nothing your measly self-mounted flashlight could have produced
or perhaps it did, and the yellow simply mixed with the reflective surface to create that odd color
but then why don't you see the glimmer anymore?
you shake your head, causing the pale yellow of your optic to dance across the non-skid patches of the stairs
not that they will very well serve their purpose anymore, they've been rubbed dry by years of frequent use
despite the faint glitter of these, you know that they don't match up with the brief light you saw
maybe you're imagining things, the dark getting the best of your mind
twisting and distorting your thoughts, causing you to see things that aren't there--
paranoia, that must be it
