1A/N: This is a recent story. It's the first chapter of a story I'm co-writing with my friend Mari.
The sky was purple.
So it appeared through the scarlet, tinted window, gleaming as plum sunlight bounced off its sleek surface and refracted the light at odd angles. Triangular rainbows flew inside gleefully and painted themselves upon the cream canvas of the walls.
To stare through the discoloured glass was highly deceitful; the objects both outside and inside appeared blurred and distorted. Moreover, the base of the pane was level with the ground, and to sight anything was complex enough in itself.
But from beyond the building, the cherry colour did wonders to veil those who slunk within. No doubt those in question did a faultless job of masking their faces and evading the glass nonetheless, but they certainly weren't a crowd that encouraged the factor of chance.
In the reclusive building that submerged beneath the earth, the air was damper and smelled of mossy soil. The ceiling was low, and the door frames were wider than they were tall. The glossy wood panels of the flooring reeked of varnish, and reflected the light emanating from the rectangular wire bulbs embedded in the ceiling. The unpolluted light glowed intensely, not permitting shadows to fall upon a single corner or cranny in the expansive room.
Were it empty, the space would have seemed entirely ordinary, and no cause for concern or scepticism. But this room had been employed outstandingly, and there was naught within that could be considered the least bit ordinary.
Three quarters of the way to the rear of the room was a coal-black wall. It had no doors, or apparent entrance – just a wall dark enough, against the cream white of the others, to send chills up your spine, and compel your legs to liquefy. Beyond the wall was a smaller room, which had seen more evil than any person could begin to comprehend. The stifled cries of misled wrongs amid plastic-backed furniture cast grey shadows against a locked steel barrier – the only entrance or exit from the room, though it was rarely put to use.
At the front of the larger room – opposite to that of the bloodcurdling wall and the horrors behind it – assembled groups of counters and tabletops; grains of coffee scurried across them with the drive of filtered air. The crumpled packets of rushed meals flew about the room and caught themselves between the portable azure walls lined with felt.
Beyond this was a world ahead of its time.
The linoleum counters morphed to steel, and in the place of coffee were multi-coloured buttons to wander amongst their midst. Levers and speakers with screens that responded littered the walls, their metallic hue glinting under the heavy lights. In the middle of the room was an imprint on the deep cobalt carpet that suggested the place where the one in command stood, earpiece operating and scrutinising screens ablaze with action. Someone staring into the empty room would be able to envisage the sound of gunshots, and the leader, eyes burning and mouth set in a determined snarl, barking frantic orders to swiftly gain control of the situation.
At that moment, as the newborn sunlight radiated into the room with a whirl of violent colours, it was silent. Only the bleep of a diminutive heat sensor echoed through the room, bouncing through the entrance hall and across the hidden shafts, buried deep in the walls. Whirs and clicks surrounded it as something seemed to come to life from inside the building's own fortifications.
A hatch flew open with the speed of a gun shot, and out slid three dark, sleek figures; each landing on the floor noiselessly, and graceful. They moved across the room with ease and familiarity, and soon settled into what had become a regular regime. The sound of machines being resurrected filled the room, and the aroma of coffee brought a fresh smile to the figures' lips as they prepared for the day ahead.