The swish of fresh nylon track pants taking one step at a time. A venonmous grey hallway across the way from big floor to ceiling windows.

A short, melodic whistle with each step. But the steps keep taking longer.

Tension rising as if waiting for something or someone to walk down the dark hallway across the road.

The whistler waiting for chaos to unfold.

The night is otherwise silent, save for the swish and whistle.

No sounds as horrors reflect in the windows across the way.