The air was thick with tension as I walked into the room. The curta were closed, and only a single light bulb illuminated the space. In the center of the room stood a large oak desk with a single chair in front of it. On top of the desk sat a stack of papers, and next to it was a small pile of books. The sound of my footsteps echoed off the walls as I made my way towards the desk. As I got closer, I noticed that there were red flags all around me. There was a red flag in the way the room smelled, musty and old. There was a red flag in the way the lightbulb flickered, casting a jagged shadow on the wall. And there was a red flag in the way my heart raced as I approached the desk.
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