<br/>Jennifer turned and crept along the wall to the foot of the stairs. Her skin prickled and hair rose on her arm as she slowly mounted the stairs, pausing between each step to listen for the sound footfalls or for someone to call out. She slipped the recorder into the tiny pocket of her navy suit jacket and pulled her hair free as it clung to her neck in the heat of the basement, letting it fall loosely to the center of her back. Jennifer was medium in height and build with gentle curves. She moved into anchor for the local station in part, due to her appearance. She had honey blonde hair that reached the fell past her shoulders but it wasn’t until she lightened her hair that she drew the attention of the station manager.  She had blue eyes so the platinum she chose for her hair seemed natural for her pale complexion and light eyes. She laughed to herself at how easily some men were manipulated when she was given the on air spot.<br/><br/>The gravel of broken cement crunched under her leather pumps. She heard water dripping somewhere in the distance. When she reached the firedoor for the first floor, she pushed the panic bar slowly to soften the squeak of the metal joints as she pushed the door open. There were no lights in the corridor and her eyes responded slowly to the penetrating darkness of the building after hours. She stepped into the hallway and let the door close behind her.<br/><br/>Jennifer walked down the hallway, and at the absence of sound felt emboldened. She called out tentatively, “Hello?” She walked down along the closed office doors, trying the knobs as she went from one to another. She called again, “hello?”