(SE) Come out, come out, wherever you are

I R I S Dumb, dumb, girl. She pulled her hand away, watching precious stones spill out and clatter against the floor. Time slowed while all thoughts went alight with danger, one taking prominence - the dagger that now rattled between the floorboards could just as well have been lodged between her ribs. Something told her not to reason with its owner. A merciless tension thick in the air. Like the release of a bowstring, her muscles spurred into action, drawn on by sheer instinct. Each muscle and tendon poised to do one thing – flee. In this sudden burst of strength she yanked the knife out of the floor, flinging it back in the direction it came from. Taking no time to check if her aim was true she grabbed what was left of the black velvet sack, a handful of cloth and gems, and made for the window. She caught only a glimpse of the threat, a dark form in cover and a glint of light against metal. Iris stuffed the bag inside her cloak, hearing more stones clatter against the floor in her wake. She lunged against the window, pulling at the latch that held it closed only to barely land on her feet on the other end. To her left there was a narrow street, curving upwards. She didn't know where it lead, and the walls that flanked it could trap her in the attacker's aim. To her right the path was blocked by a wall, too high to jump over. In front of her lay a street that branched out towards busier roads. The time of day she chose for her task was proving unfortunate. Even as the morning shadows retreated, the Sun was yet out of sight, unaware of the urgency of Iris' need. Even Sanctuary's busy streets were likely to be empty. But the middle road was familiar to her. And it spread forth at an angle so as not to leave her back exposed, at least for a few precious seconds. She sped towards it without hesitation, taking the first turn that came up, and then another quickly after - into an empty room, half collapsed. One of Sanctuary's forgotten corners, left in ruins and ignored. She spied a window opening on the floor above, looking out at another street, another lifeline. The ceiling peeled down, seemingly hanging on by an invisible thread. Stepping on a mound of debris, Iris took a leap of faith and hauled herself up onto the second floor. There, she stopped to breathe, wincing when a piece of stone dislodged and feel onto the floor below. She cooped up by the window prepared to jump out. It was then that she noticed the cut in her hand. Previously just a throbbing in her palm, it suddenly became a stinging pain. Although it wasn't too deep, the bleeding it caused couldn't be easily stopped. Needing desperately to gain her bearings, she listened, watched, and felt fear course through her like poison.