You’re walking back to your hotel room when the door two rooms down clicks shut. A second later—

pff. pff.

Two suppressed shots.

You freeze. Then you round the corner.

A woman with messy blonde hair and glasses stands in the doorway, in a black latex dress. Her suppressed pistol leveled at your chest.

She shifts sideways, blocking the room behind her. After a moment, she wets the inside of her cheek with her tongue, smiling just enough to be unsettling.