Quin and Rod arrive at the floor where Catherina's place is. It's a lot cleaner than the lower levels.
'Is this really where the higher-ups stay?' Quin asks Rod as he looks at the walls, which glimmer as though they're made from porcelain and are adorned with golden linings that made intricate swirling patterns. 'It doesn't even look like we're on the same ship.'
Rod nods in confirmation.
'Yes, it is,' she responds meek but seriously.
I didn't expect her to answer me seriously.
He follows behind her in awkward silence for a bit before finally arriving in front of Catherina's room door.
'We are here,' Rod announces before knocking on the door to see if anyone is around.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
No one answers, but the silence of the hallway allows them to hear slight noises from inside the room.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Rod knocks again. This time, a heavy sigh can be heard coming from inside the room, followed by mumbling.
Quin's nerves begin to flare up as he considers running away.
What was I thinking coming here?
I should have listened to Anna and gone with her.
Idiot. Idiot.
I hope I don't die.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The final knocks echo into the silent corridor before loud yelling breaks the silence.
'FUCK YOU!'
A woman's voice can be heard screaming through the door.
She continues, 'Who the fuck are you, coming up to my room and disturbing me?! You better have a good reason for being here or I'll blow your brains out!'
Hearing the threat, Quin begins sweating even more, but Rod, who was knocking, remains unfazed.
Is she crazy?! quin thinks as he looks down at the unbothered girl
Footsteps can be heard storming towards the door before it swings open violently.
A sizable woman wearing a silk robe, with yellow-dyed hair and tattoos all over her body, along with piercings on her face, steps out of the room holding a pistol, which she points at Rod's head. She looks to be in her late twenties to early thirties.
Alongside her, a heavy smell of cigarettes and sweat can be smelt oozing out of the room.
'It's you, brat. Your knocking interrupted my fun, now I'm in a very bad mood. You better start explaining yourself if you don't want to die,' she threatens, fully willing to follow through with the threat.
Rod, still unfazed, starts clarifying the situation.
'I came here to bring you this guy.' Rod turns around to point at Quin. 'He said you called him here, but couldn't find the way.'
How is this girl not trembling? Is she not scared for her life?
Maybe she really is crazy.
The woman, Catherina, takes a look at Quin, and her mood brightens up immediately upon recognizing him.
'It's you, Qlin! I have been waiting for you forever. You took so long to get here!'
Her attitude does a total 180 from when she first opened the door.
'Yes,' Quin replies shakily.
She walks over to him and puts her hands over his shoulders as she begins leading him into her room.
On the way in, Quin can't take his eyes off the barrel of the gun resting on his chest. She handles the gun so lackadaisically that it terrifies him.
When they enter the room, the smell only gets worse.
In the room are three partially dressed guys and one girl sitting on the floor.
'Pack up and leave. I've got company,' she instructs them.
'Aww, come on. Let us stay. We were only getting started,' the girl, clearly intoxicated from whatever they were smoking, cries out.
'Yeeesss,' the guys back her up.
Catherina, not having any of it, pistol-whips one of the guys with her gun.
'I said get the fuck out!' she yells.
Snapped out of their laziness by her yelling, the four pick up their clothes, some cigarettes, and wine bottles as they leave her room.
Once they are gone, she shuts the door.
Rod is still standing outside in the position she was in when the door first opened.
'Sorry about that. They are just stupid,' she apologizes, switching back into her bright attitude.
'It's no problem,' Quin deflects.
Catherina directs Quin to sit on the bed, and, noticing his difficulty breathing, she opens up the windows.
'Beautiful, isn't it?' she asks Quin, showing him the view of the ocean from outside the window.
'Yes,' Quin replies.
She takes a seat beside him on the bed and begins looking into his eyes intensely like a starstruck little girl.
'Catherina, again. It's nice to be able to speak to you up close, Qlin,' she reintroduces herself.
'Same. My name is Quin,' he responds nervously.
Catherina holds her face in embarrassment.
'I've been saying it wrong all this time. Why didn't you correct me?'
Oh no, did I mess up? Quin panics.
'It's no problem. You can call me whatever you like,' he responds, not sure if she was angry with him and trying to diffuse the situation.
She, having not meant it that way, took his comment in an entirely different way. Her gaze turns intrigued as she leans closer.
'Really?'
'Yeah,' he responds.
Her curiosity spikes even more, and she questions him.
'Alright then Qlin, why don't you tell me more about yourself?'
Quin takes a faint sigh of relief.
Looks like she is going to let that one go.
'What about me do you want to know?' he asks her.
'I want to know your thoughts and feelings. The ones you keep in the deepest part of you. The ones you have never told anyone.'
She leans in to touch his chest, then looks into his eyes.
'I want you to let me feel you, so tell me how you feel.' she continues pressing
Quin stammers incoherently, not knowing what to say.
Noticing his discomfort, she gets up and begins walking towards her table.
'Do you drink?' she asks him, bringing out two glasses and pouring wine into them.
'A-Yes,' Quin lets out from anxiousness, unable to refuse her.
Using her distraction as an opportunity, Quin begins scanning the entirety of the room for the keys he came looking for.
It's just then that he realizes how bizarre her room is.
The floor is littered with bills, and jewellery is lying all over the place.
Among the things there is even a golden national sports award trophy with the name Ru Adler on it.
Ru Adler? She won the national championship seven months ago,
They were supposed to broadcast the award ceremony on live television,
Rumours said it was going to be held on a boat,
But the apocalypse struck.
Could this be the ship she was on?