The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown. But what if knowing the unknown still makes your fear the oldest and strongest kind of fear? And what if there was no escape from surrounding your soul to this fear because you absolutely have no control over what you can do, and what you cannot do? What if fear is no more paper tigers but something that has taken a physical form in your world and has absolutely every control over your life; would you still make decisions that will cost you sacrifices? Once one makes a decision, the universe conspires in making it happen, but what if the universe is in favour of your fear instead?<br/><br/>Stroking a right hand against the side of her greyish-blue denim jeans, a young blonde female by the name of Franziska scanned the room where she stood. Her light green almond-shaped eyes blinked repetitively. Red veins looked as if they were about to pop in the white of her orbs. She held the left hand to her cheek and rubbed her watery eyes from the stingy feeling the stickiness of tears had caused her. She advanced towards the hotel bed and with annoyance pulled at the covers with both hands, sending the bed sheets flying across the room and against the frosty windows. Tears flew from her lacrimal glands with every of her blinks as she furiously threw the pillows in scattered directions and rolled the mattress off the bed's wooden support.<br/><br/>Nothing.<span style="font-style: italic">There was nothing. </span><br/><br/><br/>She then proceeded to open desk drawers and closets, turning their contents upside down and tossing clothes and items on the floor.<span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-style: italic">Where is the book? </span></span>She wondered impatiently and paused to look into the mirror at her own relfection. She held her hands to her tamples and rubbed them, closing her eyes for a moment in order to regain herself when she heard someone turning the door handle.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">''Who are you? What are you doing here?''</span>A tone of pure shock came from the full-time hotel maid who was responsible for cleaning Officer Udo Dreshler's room.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">''I ... I ... I have to do this. I ... have to.''</span>The blonde muttered. All hope sank and tears streamed down her cheeks as she glanced around her nervously, mind clouding.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">''Do what?''</span>The maid cocked her head to the side and walked inside the room. She dropped the clean white towels she carried on a wooden rack. The maid furrowed her brows and pulled at the blonde's arm with a violent grip.<span style="font-style: italic"> ''I am taking you to the security. This is not your room, you can't fool me thief. Look at the mess you have caused.''</span>The maid glared and yelled at the other with a polish accent.<span style="font-style: italic">''Did you steal anything from Officer Dreshler? Yes, I shall call the security. No, no, I should take you there myself.''</span><br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">''No ... you don't understand!''</span>The blonde began again shaking her head while the maid tried to pull her by the arm.<span style="font-style: italic">''STOP IT!!!''</span>Franziska cried out and launched herself onto the maid's frame knocking her off. She straddled atop her when they both hit the ground and the maid attempted to wrestle her but the blonde was much stronger.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">''Se ... cur ... ity!!!''</span>The maid muffled sounds escaped her mouth as she tried to free herself from the blonde's grasp. Franziska winced at the stingy and burning sensation of the maid's nails digging into the sweaty flesh of her neck, while another hand pulled at her hair.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">''I am ... sorry.''</span>The blonde female whispered, her jaw hardening. Tears flowed down her cheek as she tightened her grip around the maid's neck. The keeper struggled to breath, trying to cough through bluish lips and then suddenly she went limp.<br/><br/>Franziska pulled her self up swiftly and stumbled backward against the side of the closet, falling on her arms in a horrified expression. She shuttered, slowly shifting her weight to a standing position. She had to leave, and come back another time before she gets caught. She thought. The maid had already made a lot of noise with her resistance to the assault that the sounds might have alarmed people in neighboring rooms. Maybe she could come back when Officer Dreshler was present.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Maybe</span>later in the night.<br/><br/>Franziska's agonizing thoughts darkened her brain as she hurried past a man in a red coat, one in long black hair and two women; one she immediately recognized as Paula Hitler and an unfamiliar red-head.<br/><br/>Maybe she could threaten to murder the Officer. She could take him by surprise from his sleep, and request an answer to her question. She will make him spill the answer at gunpoint if she had to.