The night was quiet, too quiet-except for the wind tearing through the dark. Genevieve woke up, strapped to a chair and about six or seven people were hovering over her. There was a fine-as-hell old woman in front of her, but something in her eyes felt wrong. She was wrinkly, but slim, and she was wearing pink lipstick and blue eyeshadow. Then, they stepped back and the old lady spoke, "Hello dear," Genevieve's eyes narrowed as she listened, "What are you doing? Why am I here?!" She shot back. The woman smiled, "You've got some nerve, don't you?" She said dismissively, her tone dripping with sarcasm, "Well, let me tell you what, you're done for. You're so, so done." Genevieve's eyes widened as she heard this. What did she mean? Why was she done for? "What do you mean? Im not." The woman let out a breathy laugh, completely ignoring her, "I'm Margaret. I know who you are. You're Genevieve." Genevieve's breaths got sharper, "How do you know who I am?! Tell me!" She was now panicking. She's strapped to a chair, seven people are in front of her, not telling her what's going on. This lady had sick intentions. "I hacked the broadcast." Genevieve blinked at her, "What?" The woman nodded, repeating herself, "I hacked the broadcast," she said this rather casually, "the spore storm wasn't over. Now, you're one of them." Genevieve wasn't sure how to answer this, "Who is them?" She answered, a bit irritated. Margaret was being extremely vague, and this easily set Genevieve off.
The air was thick with tension as the other people were looking at her, they were examining her. Margaret stated, "You're infected. Don't you feel the symptoms already?" Genevieve's eyebrows narrowed as she heard this. There was no way she was gonna trust this shady woman. She tried to recall the symptoms she felt before she was here, but couldnt remember a thing. "Don't believe me? Fine, you don't have to," Margaret spoke tauntingly, "You only have to do me one small favour. Join us."